The Devil's Wife Poem by Jacinta Finch

A child of the devil,
conceived in the closet;
from Christianity,
I hide.

Holy water compels,
I cower in darkness;
to Lucifer my soul,
confined.

Surrounded by dresses,
Sweetheart necklaces;
that disguise my red skin,
wear thin.

In here it's a coffin,
a costumed space, of grace;
where the pain is safe.

A child of the devil,
possessed in the closet;
to the exorcist, I,
listen.

I'll crucify myself,
nail me to the cross;
I'm ‘reborn', are my sins,
forgiven?

No! she's inside my head.
The devil's wife has drawn,
a pentagram inside,
my bed.