We've taken you from your home. Lush in line, your twins and elders, taken.
You lost connection to the Nexus, put on display with porous candied paper messengers and the consumers of blood, perched from the ceiling by invisible lineage.
We have taken you. We're sorry. We lament. We trade small goods to take you, but its easy.
We take the tools too. The serration, the sadism, newspaper mat lobotomy.
We lament. We are sorry.
We lament and cut sad faces. We cut the undead that spawn from the soil and ****** your innards into the hot room. We are sorry. We too spawn from soil. You feel you've lost connection to the Nexus- with the stringy appendages of chilled gore.
We've taken your insides and given you a new face.
We are sorry.
Kudos to Brian Oliu, who inspired this...thing.
There's a devil in each of us,
And an angel lives there too.
I saw the angel inside me,
Begging in tears to be set free.
But the devil stepped up,
shutting her up for so long.
I almost forgot her plea,
So I carved to set her free.
No one did understand,
How much this meant to me.
They stopped me for good,
Which stopped me from good.
It's been too long since then,
When i last saw her,
I'm afraid they killed the angel in me...
I cannot eat and I cannot sleep anymore
because Your Great Love has been
knocking down my doors.
God, I am filthy, but you make me clean
You've had great plans for me
before I even became a little bean.
Growing up brings some bitter pains,
You wash it away with your healing rain.
My timid soul is thirsty and starving.
Shape me Lord, into your perfect carving.
Hundreds of orders behind but never
out of business. I cut my finger often
but my carvings are cut, always
I owe the people wooden hearts
to call their own.
And I owe myself a living,
living with clocks and statues and cabinets
for some purpose
known by God.
Their hallow heads hold fire after being carved by kids. I wonder how they do that, gouge a gourd for human fests. I bring them water every day, until they grow with might, these now seedless pumpkins that glow all through the night. They say they scare the ghosts away but none yet have I seen except the ones of the rotted skeletons that were once these.
After laying awake for endless nights,
with the shattered pieces of my heart
leaking into my veins
and carving away at the life
I used to share with you,
I realized that you are not one
worth suffering for
By Chloe Elizabeth
Find the ones who are.
— The End —