⸸⛧𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎 𝖔𝖕𝖚𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖎⛧⸸

invictus succubi | tu es exemplum | edax dei

[seducere-et-perdere]

this is my blog where I write mostly existential takes on things I've thought about and creatively work through things I've lived and internalized :)

[seducere-et-perdere]

In the morn I'll turn over to an empty bedside that belongs to you, cold and echoing the cries I wretched the night before.

Your touch is what kept me afloat in this time of grief, your arms the warmest embrace I've yet to feel. The sun will rise in the sky on its charted path but where is *my* Sun?

Where are you?

My love, where have you gone?

[seducere-et-perdere]

• lament •

my mother's hands are steeped in the nurture of young women and giving them faith

my father's wisdom is passed in reverence between every man and woman in this circle

my brother stands and kneels at the altar to offer blessing to the sacrament

my sisters are devout and pure, steadfast in their beliefs

and here I stand as an outcast and outlier, wounded and tormented by the knowledge that I am different and have been and will be until I die.

here I stand alone and weary with the mask and disguise of another saintly believer.

here I stand in confliction with my truths and my deceits, and I know there is no forgiveness for me here if I were to beg and plead for it under pretention of godly grace.

I have strayed and I loathe the hounding of perfection. I loathe the desire to be untouched. I loathe the praising of ignorance of diversely lived lives in this house of God.

there is no forgiveness any God has for me in the eyes of men. I must stay devout and unshaken in my own divinity. this is the only path left for me, for I cannot cleave unto a life of chastity and tradition after I have rebuked it. I do not wish to return, I am no prodigal Son. I am a dishonored and disowned woman, the most vile sin declared by man through scriptural conjecture.

the guilt I carry of my love and service amounting to nought; because I have diverted from the straight and narrow, will forever burden my shoulders. my shoulders of which are manly and strong, no doubt to aid me in my sole task of carrying this weight I was destined to have. in a sense I am Atlas, and I shoulder the weight of the world, *my world*, alone and unchangeable. no other person could know this demand such as I.

it matters not how much I live similarly in other values to a Christ, for I have extended my hands too far past the light and redemption is swallowed by damnation.

[noirlac]

[seducere-et-perdere]

marching onward with this cross I will carry these burdens.

self inflicted with anger, crafted with wrought irons, I am burning under scrutiny.

is this meant to be forever? am I to wrestle with mortal consequence until my end? I cannot be woeful, this was my choice.

I am finite in this body and I am withering. feed me, nourish me, uplift me, create me anew in images adorned with splendor. give me remembrance akin to God's.

I too am saintly in this effort am I not? to carry these wounds and ask to be touched? I find the only difference between a Savior and I is that I am Woman. born of conventional means, crafted through example.

is it not enough?

am I not enough?

[seducere-et-perdere]

snakes, I'm in a den of vipers.

two faced, two headed, bulls and cattle.

unclean, unchanged, unwavering

I know your hatred and I know your anguish

but to act akin to a petulant child stomping their foot is foolish

I am not to blame for keeping myself closed, and you are not to wail because you were not chosen

in such a timeline, did you not think I would be suspicious? did you not think I would see the pattern? did you not think I would piece it together?

I am filled with disgust and I'd spit on you if you were to lie prostrate in apology.

these acts of Judas fill me with hatred, I am no merciful Christ.

I am of Lilith, and she holds no room for forgiveness`

[seducere-et-perdere]

to kiss the tears you've shed

would be splendor unparalleled

if but to taste

the light of the sun

[seducere-et-perdere]

how much of this outcome is my fault? what happened in the grand scheme of things for this to fall through, what haven't I done enough of for it to be this way?

self destruction shouldn't be my default when something like this happens but who do I blame? the individual or the machine? what went so wrong in my youth that's made me so critical of all my faults? does god smile down on the torment inflicted on me in my callous and sacrilegious ways?

was I preordained to tear myself apart looking for an answer? or was it influence what's put me here so far that I bleed apologies and excuses for behaviors that aren't even mine to vouch. what manner of twisted compassion moments before my spiritual death were foretold by the stars? who was the one to put this suffering in such a tightly knit and inescapable cycle?

whore of Babylon; Madonna-Whore complex, Mary Magdalene without salvation. who am I? who am I to you. what has befallen me once more will continue, and I think now is when I realize I'm not strong enough to help myself.

[drops-of-universe]

Me, in the midst of deep and almost unbearable suffering: ok how can i make this funny

[milksockets]

'joseph box ltd fetish boots, 2014' in shoes: pleasure + pain - helen persson (2015)

[seducere-et-perdere]

#texture is incredibly interesting

[illustratus]

The Vision of Saint Hubert by Franz von Stuck

[seducere-et-perdere]

sometimes I wonder if I linger in the woods long enough, would I see something like it?

[seducere-et-perdere]

there is no god here among deep shaking breaths and incense smoke curling around these four walls. there is no other deity present for me or to witness my pet sins. there is no Redeemer with open palms and brilliant aura awaiting my apologies to receive Salvation. I alone am here. I alone am alive. I alone have a body. I alone am flesh. I alone am divine, independent and carnal. Deity watches down from her vantage, her place in Aether nonlinear to me. Her visage is one I cannot comprehend yet chase to achieve for myself. Lilith if thine ears hear my prayers, dedications, promises, curses and sorrows, allow me to build myself anew under change and transformation. I believe myself to have the ambition, bless me to have the energy to execute it. let the hunger I carry be expressed outward after it eats away at me, meld and mould and melt me into something more powerful than what I am. protect my tenderness and allow me to bury it under the destruction and desire thrumming off my fingertips.

[seducere-et-perdere]

the bells toll with sombre tang calling for those who would kneel, they who are weary and brittle with all softness sunken in.

traveler and giver of fresh vitality who stumbles upon such a congregation, would you stay with me? would you hold my face and hands and caress them gently under guise of being a savior? would you, who knew nothing of this lifetime speak gently and with adoration at the efforts of such emaciation?

would you, False God, become a figurehead in your youthful ideals and hold the bones of self inflicted suffering with tender care? what words would you whisper to me in soothing strokes against this wretched skin. to devour what's left of the dying is a cruel, cruel pastime -- yet here you stand with open palms and sturdy feet and the smell of the sun wafting off yourself, beckoning the starved to take a piece.

beware thy ambitions and ego, the hungry will feed when given food. your intents will turn you helpless and you too will be devoured for foolish pursuit of glory

[seducere-et-perdere]

| to be |

I am not to be punished for the sins of my fathers

yet I suffer at the hands of their enemies

for generations of misdeeds against women tied to them

to women seen by them

to be a woman

[seducere-et-perdere]

| Satan is the most addictive abuser |

[seducere-et-perdere]

ever reaching for warmth yet denying any that doesn't burn and sear

[seducere-et-perdere]

first post!! excuse the Latin if it's weak, I'm open to learning new phrasing

under blankets of gray, the woods reek of brittle pine.

there's still heat winding and weaving among the branches -

behest to the unconquerable passage of time.

sickly where I sit and pulse courses down my spine,

I plead with an unknown force who offers no advances.

through toil and filth I am risen, there is no glory to be called mine.

wretched I am in this flesh I wear,

the skin I loathe and the nuisance of hair.

to be one with creation is a blessing indeed

but I seek change, change inherent to destruction

and destruction, greed.

release me o Mother afar

whom are plagued yet divine

thy womb which curse and blind

all who seek the warmth of womanly spirits.

I am one with the flesh not through joy, instead sewn and moulded by sins professed generation by generation.

too late to be cleansed I am rotting my Goddess, myself and pieces of thee within are expiring with haste.

let me be changed and soothed

returned to rot and rock and wind.

bind me not to this coil I too will slough after Kronos devours

the soft and gentle off my bones.

mother on high,

mother below,

plead with Father for me

thy wiles I've been bestowed ought come from the first Woman

immortal or not

plead with the Father and soothe his anger

at the hatred and hunger I've feasted on his Sons,

the sly circles I've spoken 'round the worthy,

and the corruption I've sowed in thy name.

De Vanitate Vili Damnatus Sum

Dimitte Infirmitatem

Hoc Infidum Corpus Vincam

Amen