asking permission to slaughter me
bodily when you’ve already attempted to
crucify my psyche seems a bit…
delusional? degenerate? but most post-
esoteric chronically online wannabe
femcels will tell you that it’s my god-
given right to receive
handwritten letters of intent when
it comes to this type of sacrifice.
jesus himself probably didn’t
know all the ways torture could be
likened to sex til he was halfway thru his own
ministrations on the subject,
near naked & near death,
o omnipotent father suddenly im-
potent & nowhere to be found. how dare he
question his faith then?
rapt & wrapped in rags, forsaken,
scolding his master. christ. I, too,
think of my father when a man
upends my sense of self —
virtually murdering me with words
when I know he’d prefer to do it with
x-acto knives & other flimsy, shiny things.
yes, daddy! you ought to kill that sinful part of me,
zealot that you are.