My Womb Grows Heavy

A heavy claw on my chest. Dark, black. Drawing the liquids out of me. 

My womb is so heavy and scalp is so light. He sits there, over my shoulders and claws, claws, claws, claws. Claws. Claws. He claws. He claws. He claws. He claws till there is nothing left to till. The fresh steam of my raw flesh as my eyes roll back. My gown rises up and he comes down. stretch my mouth apart and spit your curse in as the blood seals the deals. Grows in my womb in his ascendant, the kingdom shall come again, the reign shall be held in the hands filthy and wretched.

He doesnt leave till I dig up the coffins, and eat the remains. But even after that he doesnt leave. He stands there beside me at all times. My mother is scared, my father doesnt care. The night paints my face a sinful color as I stretch my arms out and invite him in again. The tree stands and prevails. I hang and sway. there is a rotten smell.

He with his twisted eye stares at me. I with my white gown stare back. My mother screams as I give birth to another evil and my womb grows heavy again.

There is a rotten smell. I think its me

There is a corpse swaying on the tree

She thinks its me

There is an abomination crawling and screeching

He thinks its me

There is a rotten smell

I think its me

The saviour cant save me. Im the filth. Im the rot.

This is a metaphorical blog. Im not in a cult and I don't practise any rituals. Please dont report me.