ㅤㅤㅤ
The pomegranate rots in my hands, its sweetness spoiled by the violence I cannot unshackle. Red fluid seeps out, touching skin already worn down, and I feel cursed in a blackout that tastes of forbidden death like a lotus eater lost in delusion, I hold myself back from biting into tender sinew, I can no longer recognize in this hunger, I start to believe that sometimes the desolation creates us to be nothing more than unchecked desire. Now, the body I devour feels like the answer I’ve always sought, but I am no longer a seeker, only a scavenger, finding sanctity in decay.
I hide my scars, but they are the only
parts of me that feel real, (@RUORA.)
ㅤㅤㅤ
The pomegranate rots in my hands, its sweetness spoiled by the violence I cannot unshackle. Red fluid seeps out, touching skin already worn down, and I feel cursed in a blackout that tastes of forbidden death like a lotus eater lost in delusion, I hold myself back from biting into tender sinew, I can no longer recognize in this hunger, I start to believe that sometimes the desolation creates us to be nothing more than unchecked desire. Now, the body I devour feels like the answer I’ve always sought, but I am no longer a seeker, only a scavenger, finding sanctity in decay.
I hide my scars, but they are the only
parts of me that feel real, (@RUORA.)
ㅤㅤㅤ