• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 02

False prophets

She took the bright and slick-smooth thing,
because they told her it was hers
to have and hold, though the colours bled
into her skin, and the edges cut
her like a knife.

She held the faded broken thing,
its promises streamed into the night,
and all the tears that ever fell
were not enough to wash away
the bloody lies.