Mr. Pedo Philed. Poem by Axley Jade Blaze

Why does it seem like the thing I dread—
is also my desire 
Why does it seem as if I welcome this distress 
Am feeding and furnishing the combustion?  
The Ring of Fire 
You were 45, and I was only 14 
A youthful face, all freckles; infantile 
Perfect for the 45-year-old pedophile 
But were you the demon—
Or was I?  
Did I plan your death?
Or did you expect mine?  
Who decided 
When it would be the time 
For us to perish?  
Burning desire 
Yes, we were both guilty, perhaps. 
Both created this Ring of Fire!  
Fire consumes, fire enslaves 
Fire destroys 
The weak and the addicted, those who crave 
The flat chest, forever young 
Kid cheeks, kid smile 
Did you realize all this?  
Answer me, Mr. Pedo Phile 
Child lover 
Devotee of mine 
Answer me!  
I demand an answer 
Damn you. 
You'll answer me for once. 
Answer me this time. 

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