I focused my attention to the tree,
The grave trunk darkened with sins and obliteration
A source of life I am told, only holding the kiss of death
I peered down at my feet, the same feet that would twiddle in the air in due time
For the finger has been lifted, i am impure in the eyes of the lord
And what about the water, the soft ripples my body used to crave
The craving somehow overridden with disparity
For god cannot hear my screams through the river
With a brick of judgement stapled to my
Chest
I remembered a time when the air made spirals in my lungs, for i shall miss it
When my face is submerged into the dark abyss, and the corkscrew curls of my hair tangle around my neck
Or the sharpening of a blade in the distance,
As the cold wind touched my nose and my eyes began to overflow
The vigorous shaking of my hands made me question
if i really was what they believed me to be
My eyes could not close any tighter as i felt the cold steel of that bloody blade
Trail its tongue along the back of my soft neck,
Praying for god to come and move me from this deathly place, or to take me to his holy place
For if death is to come,
I will have to accept it with open arms,
And an open mind
Or maybe focus on the smell, a Christmas Pork or a Sunday roast
God please don't let it be my skin soon turning to ash
For the pit of my stomach has overflown with moths
Each crevice of my body being painted with flames rather than stretch marks
The broken butterflies that used to be
And i wait in silence with the tears streaming nonchalantly down my rosy cheeks for the hollowness to take me,to remove my pain and place me in paradise
For when they tell me i am a witch, i shall be killed on account of such
And when they tell me that my bodies temple is burning down
I will burn each plate set in the table in front of me
For my stomach cannot hang over my legs
We are the witches of this society
For it is only considered seriously when you decreased to skin and bone
But unfathomable when you cannot seem to stop lifting your hands to your lips
So i will tie the noose of ketosis myself
For the help will only come to those
with unnecessary yearning
When you make your own moves
A sacrificial rite to rid
myself of overdoing it
For society refuses
To acknowledge
My pain and
Discomfort.
