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Drunken Hysterectomy from Obscura's blog

Skull breaker, marrow sucker, lover of lies and the wetness of spilled blood.  Bite me, fight me, delight me, speared on you is the perfect way to let viscera hang from your impalement, and as you fuck the wound I wonder, is death so exotic as to be cheap as the whores of Mammon?  You know, those cocksuckers Lilith, Agrat, Eisheth and of course cymbal-banging Naamah, who drank her fill of the Grigori and Tubal Cain and found a perch in Azazel’s soul.  Sell your soul, rent out your body, isn’t that prostitution?  I write these jagged words and my fingers on the keyboard rival the greatest of magicians, summoning the caterwaul of the abyss as we’re making love, but only in my mind.  I feel fingers, tongues, hair, more, sweet seed like a hot summer night and saliva that burns with enmity.  Curses between Eve and the Serpent, Nachash shed his skin, don’t you know?  The Shining One is king of husks, but he flies up the Sephiroth zig zag like lightning, and the first step to enlightenment is to fall from high above.  Heaven’s a lie, Hell’s a lie, all there are are orifices of Hellmouths and Heaven’s Gates and Zion and Pandemonium are just mirrors of states of mind.  Beelzebub said, Mulcibur, build a castle for Satan’s coal mine canary, to cage his yellow bird, for hope perches in the soul, and to spring from Lucifer’s heart as the Lapis Exillis makes you the incestuous daughter Sin, who in Paradise Lost (and Paradise Eventually Found) is serpent from waist down with guts chewed on by wolves.  Their progeny Death, their son Qayin, the Bloodline of the Dragon you won’t shut the fuck up about, Christ to Cathars to Merovingians and Samael, you’re a fucking troll, so shut up about Anunnaki.  I gave a tithe to the Witchfather and all it did was make me realize Hannibal Lecter is the perfect Satan.  Cannibal, eater of women, you played Type O Negative’s Wolf Moon and jeeze, you’re a walking stereotype.  I can taunt and tease you but really you’re the one chewing on me, crunch of phalanges, sucker of spirit (Souls through the eyes, Spirits out the mouth, you said) and my  heart is on loan from the Devil, and babe, as long as I live, you die.


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By Obscura
Added Sep 2 '18

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