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In Sakuya's world, I've become a slave to her time

A doll frozen eternal, meek and weak

Maddening eyes, in drowning euphoria

Seductive in evil, she licks her silver

I will not bend the knee

to her flayment fixation

A clock corpse

for her collection

Edges tracing, cuts like drawings, blooded sculpture

Marking incision her quick decision to ravage her meaty doll

Arms are hands, organs wound the gears

No voice left inside me, I'm ticking and crying to awake her next morning

No will left in me

Flayed to fiction

I am now the clock corpse

in her collection