Devourer

You devour my shame and guilt
You devour my stench and eat my guile.

Though I curse you and forget Your pure, bright name, you devour me.
My blood quickens in the pule of darkness but you delight in devouring my cold, calloused heart. I wrestle not with angels, not even with demons, but with insecurites and misunderstandings, walking ā€“ no running ā€“ into the black disenchanted woods scared that someone might see my frail soul as it seeks satisfaction.

And there, in the cold solitude of sin you devour me.
You devour my shame and guilt
You devour my stench and eat my guile.

I lick up the remains of my brother’s gnawed flesh, thinking I may gain some unholy power of persuation over him by belittling his innermost struggles. And so, you devour my dark soul. I stitch my wounds before cleansingmyself, keeping the infection hidden until the puss and blood seep through my clothes leaving an unavoidable obvious and blatant stain. Yet you eat of my body, cursed and wretched as it may be; You offer me your body as a feast.

And there, in my gnashing of teeth on your tender flesh
You devour my shame and guilt
You devour my stench and eat my guile.

And in selfish pride I look down on those who eat of You, pity them. I binge and purge on your offerings, pretending to eat of meat but expelling it to gorge on curdled milk from a seductive, imprisoned bovine. I close my eyes, scared that I might see you in light and be found naked and wanting. Afraid that you might devour this fake self I work so hard to wallow in. I run from your blood, for a dark tan is more pleasing than a milky white pruning of the epidermis.

Halleluia, Your blood devours me
Halleluia, Your blood devours me
You devour my world
You devour my world

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