Dear God

Paint the town red
Use my viens instead
Milk them dry
Till the end

Can I be of help?
While you shred
The remaining gob
Of an existence unknown?

I promise not to scream
In anticipation of the high
Enchanting surprise
For slow death

It might be fun
To watch from afar
As structure blends
Into nothingness

I anticipate euphoria
During your filthy pleasure
With a lewd itch for
Fruition in the waiting

My dehydrated eyes
Plead
Accept my coaxing
You know you want to