You the shepherd, you the abattoir, you the quiet, you the roaring sea.
I, your dulcet lamb pure and credulous in nature.
Unbeknownst to me, I followed you to the slaughter house, there you would take all of me.
My heart, my soul, the clay that formed my being.
Strung up on your thread only to be cut down once you had taken everything you wanted from me. Because what would be bread without meat?
As I felt the cold sweet solitude of the mezzanine floor finally I could truly be at peace. Watching the crimson from my flesh and bones seep into the earth-like soil welcoming the rain after a year of parchedness.
I had accepted my fate, I had accepted you…