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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2315116
Heaven and Hell have fought for my soul.
Why does my body yearn to be abused?
It begs to be broken and bruised and bled out
For this pain is a relief that pleasure can't give me
When I see the flames of hell, I'll be glad to be burning

My family tells me not to defile god's creation,
For to hurt yourself is to hurt your heavenly father.
But I raise my fist to the skies in an act of resignation
For no god will decree that I cannot suffer.

God hears my curses, and the devil hears them too-
The divine and the sinful are at war for my soul.
Heaven's great savior scowls up on his angel's perch,
While the devil blocks my hotline as I desperately search.

My holy father steps in, preventing my suicide-
If I jump off this cliff, will there be anywhere for me to land?
At every attempt I try, he closes the wound.
While I listen to Satan, god's ruining our plans.

But this monster, this demon, rips at my skin- begging for escape
Tearing through my body and standing in my place
My skin falls to the ground like a costume, crumpled at my feet
In my new form I emerge, like a serpent I'm shedding what I no longer need.

Now I damage myself for I'm only a vessel
The devil's in my heart so I continue to break it.
Lucifer and I, we relish this affliction-
For torturing me is the devil's great mission.

Yes this pain is relief that pleasure can't grant me,
I'm in bliss while I bleed and the demons are laughing.
God shakes his head in defeat as hell finally claims me,
The flames are my grave, taking my soul in cremation.
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