Need

Strung out
Pierced where I protrude
Crumpled
with a hate for my need
The need of an angels tongue
to speak so sweet
and devils hands 
to touch so harsh
He is the body of kings
He is the body
I need
He is the hand
He is the mind
He has the spirit
on which I feed
He is my punishment
He is my greed
He is the savior 
to whom I plead