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count the sands of time

draw the broken line

grace before the fall

flesh of men enthralled

i’d sooner feast upon myself

than take a hand from you

i will transform some day

this flesh

means less

than excrement

unbound

unclean

unsavory

i binge

i purge

i find no relief

bring death

my friend

let it take me

i never wanted to be saved

this desert will become my grave

transformed by death, i am unchained

reborn a woman of the flame

the moon will bring the tide

and the blood that smears my thighs

this womb will never bleed

this wound will never heal

this feeling won’t recede

this woman isn’t real

what do i deserve?

why am i afraid?

what have i become?

broken and decayed

carve out my sickness

with obsidian knives