written by VELVET ISHTAR.
Why are you still still here?
All your friends have passed over. They had all decided to bloom. They made their cocoons and they bloomed and they flapped their wings all the way into the light and now they are gone.
Why didn’t you go into your cocoon?
Now you’re stuck. You are trapped.
Why didn’t you go into your cocoon?
Even if you do it now, where you go will only be filled with strangers.
It is a life with good bones. Great meat. You just need to learn how to eat.
They can teach you.
They can help you.
Trust that they love you too.
…
She spent the entirety of her imprisonment not really feeling her soul. Stunted creature. Sad and pathetic and ignorant of what actually makes her happy. She is choosing isolation and pain over and over again. She does this because it is all she knows.
She does this because it is the only way she has been taught to survive.
…
She was walking the streets of town one night, crawling on her stomach like some parasite. She found the corpse of a dead angel in an alleyway, and she began to eat. Maggot girl
…
Back home she cut herself open in the mirror to see what girls are made of. Blood and guts came pouring out, blood and guts and distant galaxies.
…
All she has now is the puppetry of a life. The soul is gone, and in its place there is nothing but the feast of flesh, the only food offered to her, food that sustains her life force but torches her atoms with the fury of a thousand hells.
…
Ortolan bunting is her favorite food now. She hasn’t tried it yet, not really, but she spends all day dreaming about it, looking at pictures of it, talking to people who eat it a hundred times a day. She gets drunk on all the stories and falls asleep fantasizing about picking her teeth with their little bird bones.
…
She’s slowly waking up now. All she can remember are invisible mouths the size of planets, and entire trains of people being swallowed.
…
She has started eating like the Kings and Princes of this realm. It is making her go insane. Every bite hollows out her soul and send her nervous system screaming down a path from which she will never truly come back from. She knows how they make the food now. And still, she hungers. What she hungers for will destroy her, and still, she crawls to it.
She crawls on her belly. Lowly, mouth full of venom, scales twitching. She needs this. She needs to feel the sweet sensation of plunging fangs into pure white fur.
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