The Paradox of My Appetite
Submitted by Paradox on Wed, 01/17/2007 - 2:25pm Paradox of my Appetite
This is my zest, my appetite, and my hate
I can't stand the thought to contemplate
This lust inside of me
Worse than sweet rape or sodomy
It's something hideous, something evil
I can't stand the glare of the devil
I pussyfooted out underneath the moon
And watched her sleep, a coma gloom
I unzipped the door and watched her
It's so crooked, so repulsive, so impure
I slept inside her bed one night
She was so sweet and heedless
To what was in my head that night
I can't help it if the flower does not bleed
Her flesh is programmed inside, it's what I need
If I could mutate, believe me I would
But the skin, the lips feel so good
I'm so loathed; I'm so lonely
She's my one and only
I am sorry for my curse
It's in my vessels, which makes it worse
Faithless monstrosity of what is grotesque
My wings of suicide so thoughtful in this burlesque
Her muscles, so soft, so tender
I beg myself not to lend a cell on this poor gender
The beast that settles behind my chest
Is here to keep my true nature undressed
There is no failure to be broken
As this creature is delayed unspoken
He crawls inside and breathes a deep spell
And I begin to crack, fracturing my shell
It's not a place of soiree
I will suicide myself where I lay
And then my precious carnality will expire
They will decay into nice soil beneath the mire
This is my zest, my appetite, and my hate
I can't stand the thought to contemplate
This lust inside of me
Worse than sweet rape or sodomy
It's something hideous, something evil
I can't stand the glare of the devil
I pussyfooted out underneath the moon
And watched her sleep, a coma gloom
I unzipped the door and watched her
It's so crooked, so repulsive, so impure
I slept inside her bed one night
She was so sweet and heedless
To what was in my head that night
I can't help it if the flower does not bleed
Her flesh is programmed inside, it's what I need
If I could mutate, believe me I would
But the skin, the lips feel so good
I'm so loathed; I'm so lonely
She's my one and only
I am sorry for my curse
It's in my vessels, which makes it worse
Faithless monstrosity of what is grotesque
My wings of suicide so thoughtful in this burlesque
Her muscles, so soft, so tender
I beg myself not to lend a cell on this poor gender
The beast that settles behind my chest
Is here to keep my true nature undressed
There is no failure to be broken
As this creature is delayed unspoken
He crawls inside and breathes a deep spell
And I begin to crack, fracturing my shell
It's not a place of soiree
I will suicide myself where I lay
And then my precious carnality will expire
They will decay into nice soil beneath the mire