based on a real story: cycle II

they will not find my body

or if they do

it won't look like something

that once held breath

the knife never sang

but her voice did

and in that voice

there were centuries

there were forests burning

there were women naming

themselves in the dark

there were men begging

for mercy as their lungs

filled with salt

she didn't kill me

no no she rewrote me

carved new myth into marrow

whispered a new purpose

into the holes

where my ribs used to be

she reached inside and pulled

the part of me still afraid

then kissed it until it

begged her to end it

and she did tenderly

i remember her lips on mine

as i slipped out the world

i had known

not like a man dying

but like a spell breaking

i woke up in her name

Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa

not mine

i don't know what i am now

not a man

not a ghost

just something tethered to her

a secret buried in a mirror

a prayer with blood

under its fingernails

and if you see her

if she ever wanders into

your kitchen

all barefoot

and humming

with eyes that remember

the stars when they still spoke

don't ask questions

don't call her beautiful

don't offer her wine

just run

or kneel

she is not a woman

she is not even a witch

she is the daughter of silence and flame

the last of her name

the first of something worse

and if she loves you

may the gods help you

you'll spend the rest of eternity

trying to survive it