You’re down on your knees sucking Mammon’s greedlust,
bathing in the blood of priests selling indulgences,
swallowing gold and burnt masterpieces into prisons
where beautiful things will wither in your dark gut.
Your black hair is wet now, and you swim in feathers
the most beautiful of canaries, they make you tremble,
contemplating how best to snap golden wings is bliss,
for women to you are dolls best broken, best burned.
You covet the ineffable, sweet dripping marrow, bruises
bring truth to the skin, so you bite me hard, harder,
red blossoms along with purple wine and yellow bile,
why do I just lay there terrified? Because I am dead.
I died the first time you touched me, I wept rivers
of pearls, got trapped in skiffs adrift on the Styx,
fangs were my truth, cruel cages and serrated limbs,
maybe I could have left you the first day by just
Keep breaking girls, they are not my concern, past
my care, for finally I have a spine from your curse –
your claws ripped me apart and revealed diamonds
my white beacon blinded you, and I flew far away.
Keep jerking off to your ruined women, stay away.
Comatose poisoned madrigals best suit you, not me.
I was never meant for you, I am not Hell’s tithe,
my name is not Tam Lin, no, I am Janet, I saved
myself, myself, I am my own, and you are just
a bad memory.
So pray for salvation but know you don’t deserve it.
Turn up the flames and roast your desires to ash.
Drown in the bodies of your toys, I cannot see you
from my perch in Heaven, and you are just all Hell.
Just an aborted creation of Sophia whose mother
abandoned your Demiurge rot at birth, no solace
will be had in my arms, not anymore, so change,
beg for me, but never in a million scars will I