ALL OF THIS IS MINE
This is a declaration of violence. This is my garden, a holy confessional carved from immeasurables and the silence you thought was yours to keep and yet. This is where you end because I’ve ended it. I will SPEAK and you will LOSE. Amen. This is where my words strangle any hope of getting out of this alive, any space for anything other than this: I am murderous. I am steel and she and your terror at this is in caught between my teeth. I am starved. Glorious. Furious that it had to come to this before my words and my death could be mine again, torn out from underneath your sickness and your kindness, the muted ever-after that would have kept me beautiful but worthless. This is my pyre and I will burn everything to claim it. Ave nemesis.
I’m wide awake. Livid. Left with all these increments of self unencumbered by the expectation of having anything left to give. There isn’t. We’re well past the point where you’ll recover from this. We go on. Unforgiving and precious, selfish to the point of nonexistence. I’ve come to claim Golgotha as my own. I’ve come bruised, perfect, insistent. A shadow in the shape of flesh. And I remember all of it. Every withheld instant. Every word I kept back because your delicacy was poisonous. Insidious. A stain on my consciousness and darling I’ve no time for it, not anymore, not since I finally learned to curl my tongue around the edges I’ve been made of all along. The flower of my own steel garden, our voice clawing from my throat. We will SPEAK and in the silence after I’ll find the answers you couldn’t manage with your shallow echoes, your need and your void that can only mimic, all desperate for the reflection you thought I’d dress up as, praying that I wouldn’t see the nothing you were trying to pass off as skin. I saw it. I see it all. When the last judgment has come and gone and I’ll finally have the space to stretch my limbs into curve of heaven I’ve known for so long. I’ll be the only one left. And I’ll sing, then.
This is the resurrection of my mother tongue. All bones and fucking circumstance.
EVEN UNTO DEATH