fourth witch (An homage to Gruoch ingen Boite) - N. Abram
poetry ☆
poetry ☆
she has always been hungry.
her mama wept and told her she’d curse her birth
until the stars all caught fire
and there was no need for hunger anymore,
clawing toward the milestone marker erected
at the pinnacle of wanting.
she once read a story where hell was gate-guarded
and the precipice an easy tumble down:
once you’ve lifted the latch
there ain’t no stopping you,
no ropes of fire to limbo under,
no turn back signs on this one way road to a full stomach.
she plays vulture with a genesis rib.
she plays woolly wolf with the bones—
scoring a tally of the living with blunt canines,
the dead a screaming whetstone.
her mama mourns her, hearing stories
of mad / monster / murderer / mother
mama weeps and curses her birth
and prays that the latch is already lifted.
N. Abram (they/them) is a queer, trans writer with a deep love for language and everyone's personal monsters. They have been writing since they were old enough to hold a pen, and their work centers around the relationship between carnality, desire, and spirituality. In their free time, they can be found reading horror stories and listening to goth rock. They live with their partner and two very adorable cats. You can find more of their work and contact information on Instagram at @hallowedhedonism.
