Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,
sinned and sinned.
And tomorrow, I’ll sin again
and again and again.
Ivory fangs and fire.
Kiss and burn,
Forever and Ever,
Amen.
The body and the blood,
that sweet, euphoric blood.
I could stop if I was brave enough
but I’m not.
What am I inside, after all,
but a red sea
stretching in all directions
to fill this human-shaped hole.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
Whom have I in hell but myself?
I am nothing but teeth and an empty stomach.
Father bless me.
The pews have turned to boiling water,
my pulpit to iron spikes,
the floor, the walls,
the very air to stained glass needles.
Father, why have you forsaken me
and what am I supposed to do now?
I’m listening, but
the blood is rushing too loud in my ears
and down my throat.
I can’t hear you anymore.
A/N: “Come on, Father. Being a vampire isn’t all that bad. Staying up all night, catching fire in sunlight, hiding from your congregation…not much has changed for you, really.” “Thanks, Miriam. You’re a true comfort.”
Want to read more about Vincent? Bam. Here you go: Cardstock Priest: Short Story
Protagonized. 
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