[Some there are
found in the hands of a demon
a demon who tears and takes and makes you
something you were not before.
No matter the nature of the demon
the details of what was done or when or how.
No matter, in fact, if you escape.
No one escapes.
The Demon is always there.
Years later, so far after the fact
that there are no facts left
no memories that can be trusted
— and it is the nature of the demon
that trust is the first eaten
the possibility of trust,
the hope of anything at all—
Years later, the demon turns around
grins from inside
that wounded place.
And Oh!
the demon is clever.
The demon is beautiful.
The demon is much lusted after, much denied
and when, in time, he recedes
it is only the dream of the demon that grips and tears
while only the audience remains,
the audience that whispers
"Tell us about the demon."
"Tell us how he touched you."
"Tell us about his belt, his teeth, his cock."
"Tell us about your blood, how hot it was
and how it ran down."
"Tell us about you,
though we know of course,
the only notable thing about you
is that once a demon wanted you."
The audience grows teeth
takes up a belt, becomes beautiful
The audience looks down
sees itself
sees the demon.
You see the demon.
You are not alone anymore.
You have it back— all you wanted.
Now all you want is to be free of it.
But didn't I tell you?
It does not matter what you want.
The demon does not care.
The demon does not even notice.
The demon is filing its nails
bending over
waiting.
Like I said,
No one escapes.]
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
origamiaround
blakekathryn
