E.V. Black > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

My body is a temple and I am its goddess.

She burns.

A young woman loses her husband, but he returns to her as something else.

From all around, the pressure impends.

Each meal is not just a meal but murder.

The desire for flesh turns into disgust

We have forgotten what was wholly beautiful.

They wait there, still visible, for their creators to return.

Don’t cry when I tear you to shreds. Rape you on your parents’ bed.

Behind that face was no fairy tale.