S
our shoulder blades are arched with twisted wings, leather, veins, bones, quivered with weaponry evolved right out of skin. our hands are curved and twisted into driftwood knives. our eyes blaze and our spines are lined with the fuel.
you have brought this on yourself.
our minds are worse, dark, gasping spaces of empty road and apocalyptic forests, speckled with stars once a year. when we’re lucky. when we’re healthy for a night, blessed with something to fight the disease you gave us.
you have brought this on yourself.
we crawl from where you buried us, redefining the warpath. under moonless skies and flickering signs, we pull on our heaviest boots to feel strong. gathering the spines you stitched into our skin so we can shake your hands with a smile..
you have brought this on yourself.
you locked us in coffins, you twisted our reflections in mirrors, you made us monsters. you made us hate ourselves, and then complained when we became ugly.
you made an army.
girls are full of bile and gasoline, prickling with thorns, rippling with power. our skin crawls from the demons you sewed in; they are hungry now that they have consumed us. when you destroyed us, we remembered. when you destroyed us, you taught us.
we turn our palms out, let the demons feast on your heart. you gave us the talons. we thank you, and spit on your grave.

hell is a teenage girl // a.e. (via sapphreligious)
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