The Sowing

I shall drip rubies for You
To You
Its kismet fate
Every slice into my flesh in honor
Of this beautiful creature birthed from the seeds of trauma that You planted
And nutured
For some of us death would be relief.
Frequent
little ones
In their most taboo and shameful nature
What you call serendipitous I call divine
Having been introduced to
Depraved lunacy
Whom questions my sorrow
When for Him such malfaction should be celebratory and met with sweet accolade
Punishing has a way of altering the mind.
You must begin to enjoy it or it will be your demise. Attrition is vital.
Might guilt surface whilst vulnerability
Understand that you've done me a grand favor anything outside of you beating me black and blue would be a disservice because I've done bad things. Really bad. In the name of justice.
I've harmed people.
On purpose.
And I enjoyed doing it.
Every moment and every deed was premeditated.
The vengeance sated my trauma temporarily.
So I know I'll do it again.
Whether or not they were good or bad plays no factor.
I have no right.
I need you to love delivering consequence just as much I need to love the wisdom that will come from the reaping.
I beg you to use what can be commonly perceived as the devil as a tool to provoke change for my own edification.
Stop me. I dare You.
Why can't we cut each other open and drink merrily and deeply
Fervent gulps like on communion morning
And make love in the thick red mess of Us enjoying every second of savagery tributing to my ancestors of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Aren't my scars so pretty Daddy?