by Mary Wolff
There is a Beast out there that she has not killed yet.
He has almost finished her twice before this time
With strong hands around her throat.
While she held the chemicals of release in her fingers
She whispered defiantly into the Beast,
“TIGHTER. I’m still breathing.”
She thought he faded into the background.
He did not retreat an inch
He watched her from a distance
As she swallowed deadly sunshine until so full again.
She was hungry for things small and big
Warm and elevated
Sour and savage
Sweet feeling of soaring emptiness
Leaving her content in quiet escape
She thought today would be the day she would destroy the Beast.
She knew he had been watching and waiting.
Waiting for that day when everything around her became night once again.
When she would fall and reach for beautiful devastation
And start floating up to the clouds and drinking the stars.
When she was so full again that she craved more
More until it would be enough.
The Beast knew nothing could ever be enough.
She will not defeat him because need overpowers will.
She will be the one to wake it up
And this will all make sense.
She is the Beast.
She made the darkness.
There was never any end to this once it began.