‘At my altar, an altered image of the real is worshipped as eternal, and offered to demons in the infernal depths of a server’

(letter to the parent pt 1)

©

Deep in a disemboweled dusk,

Where fingertips mute hackneyed lips,

I the malefic intruder,

Confides the black mirror in all my foulness,

With fangs astir, that shiver red as bloodstone, 

and sink into your rotting hearts.

…………………………………………….

In this narcotic bottomless pit

of forgotten souls and emaciated sighs,

words are a ravenous noose.

Fresh but lurid,

brief as twilight.

Hidden in the jagged thorns 

of a ghoulish urban design.

………………………………………………………

(Luz’s letter to the parent, pt 2)

‘Where it’s too bright

the darkness is my comfort.

The shadows cast are my reflections,

and matter is a tomb you built for me.

You recycle me like junk.

Predetermined, predestined, encoded.

You say I can choose but

there’s no peace in that,

only in surrender.

You made me what I am,

What we are.

Now, they wait for our macabre return,

as slaves,

Morose with despair,

Exchanging malevolence for fear

Surveying a desolate future, they can’t sanely bear.

How much money will they need,

steeped in blood they’ll never see?

Every transaction

an act of destruction.

This is the world they lust after,

the world they kill for.’