on the flesh

content warning: sex, gore, violence, kink, choking, death

i never miss the beast i used to be.
slaughterhouse girl; bloodsoaked and nude,
tender flesh carved into the shape of a girl,
or; the careful carver, toys all man-made.

filed nails became sharp point claws,
littering back scars in their wake,
she'd gape her sharp and greedy mouth,
writhing like a thing unheaded,

then she'd mark the body wretched,
brand the round with "grade a meat,"
scar the shanks with "dead girl,"
swear herself discarded meat and rot,

or she'd play her favorite game;
seeing how long she could go without air,
and she calling the feeling after "alive."
i remember she looked so pretty in blue.

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