It is still inside and the curtains are all drawn
Cloaked in red to hide there will be no dawn
This fair child shadowed by a rabid dog
Day and night it salivates at heel wits far gone
Minutes never rest hours turn to weeks
What life is this what sight is this
Her nimble fingers skin a cat alive
Shuddering at the sight but with no remorse
She rips and tears precious meat the body squeals
Still twitching and blinking still there
Grandmother of old tells us keep cupboards closed
Filling pantries with worship and divine
Not rotting companions we cry for in our sleep
Still twitching, still blinking, still there
Twenty hands long and mouth open wide
Needles drag across his skin in the night
Fear is not a part of her
Shame for what's to come
Knife in hand dripping and unclean
Resting an arm on a foul wood plank
She begins back and forth
The dull blade takes hours to reach bone
No tears no noise
This is the offering
With heavy breath
Shadows become eyes
No tears no noise
I give a part of me