To:My Lovely Satanist

You are half dead when
Your lips breathe me in and
You rub your satanist orgasm into my skin
I hate you
But i love you like God loves his victims

I am left forlorn and helpless sometimes
When i see my reflection in your eyes
They are just searching for love
But sadly just find lies and condoms

You fear me
Albiet i fear your Gestapo power
Stored in the way your body teases mine
Every single fucking time
You whisper in my ear

Fuck me

Sometimes i wish
You would word it more poetically but by then
My eyes are lost in that violent crimson taste
Of your body

Your body is my coffin
And maybe when Hell comes around
I will give you our desire
To set our decrepit love free

Maybe baby
We could be something more than an ejaculation
If Mr. Crowley was not breathing
Down that slender pale neck of yours

Your body was made for me
As if Satan knows me perfectly
And sometimes i hope and plead
To the God the Christians say hate me      to be free