I do not ask for your blessing,
a straitjacket sewn with your expectations.
I stand here, excommunicated for my sins,
because I chose to live unchained.
I do not wear the dress you picked for me,
I do not bow to the rules of a heaven that cannot see me.
If being called a sinner is the price of being true,
then I pay it with pride.
My sin is desiring you until it hurts,
burning beneath the weight of my own hunger.
The devil behind the mask of a man
taught me to look into the abyss within,
to no longer fear the dark that burns and breathes.
And every time he is near,
a flame that devours shame,
the freedom to be myself, slave and queen all at once.
And if the world dares to call me excommunication,
I answer with a smile of fire,
knowing there is no sweeter hell than the one I choose with him.
No paradise more bitter than a life dimmed without his command.
I am the devil dressed as an angel.
I am his temptation and his surrender.
I am the end and the beginning
of everything he never dared to want.
while I fly free, in the sin I chose.