Jan 30, 2024
How haunting to know that being awake is an omen. The marrow of your bones sing with prophecy, your bones are forged by tragedy. How haunting to know that your waking is fraught with tears and violence and not the beauty of a 'good morning' and a warm smile. You are a capitol 'o' Omen, a sign of the Reckoning and Ragnarök and when you sing the Four Horsemen will beat the war drums to your broken voice. You will never wake peacefully, there is no such thing. You will never know a day where death was not holding your tongue between its teeth, where blood tastes the same as spit to you. You are your own haunting.