Feed the Machine
growling foul malfunctioning device
she stands above the machinery, shouting orders like blade-thrusts
"subsist on what I give, there is no other need"
she no longer can tell what's deception or truth
or who speaks these things to anyone, if at all--
every time she looks in the mirror, the same worthless excess flesh,
useless, useless, useless.
and the bile catches and burns in her throat like tears.
she changes her clothes and she keeps her eyes closed.
the void louder than the sea
bloodless, pure, and empty, pleases her
and will be the end of her.
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