tartarus The texts are showing, long and withdrawn The words, words, words words, god I hate them But they fill my head with intoxicating phrases The woman slinks into a void of excuses and prayers There is a religion in hips, bones, crack There is “love” in the milky eyes God is reaching down to the ground There’s a limb hanging out of the feminism coffin They defend and tangle themselves into the world Of words and phrases There’s a child next door, begging for love What kind of obsession do you feed with her affection? Before the infestation, she was murmuring some name Telling the whole world how she’s preparing And here are the bullets, the condolences, thoughts and prayers The bodies of bodies of parents weeping in solace What kind of God are you representing? The love of the pain, her fame and your gain That addiction-wounded “whore” you took and you claim They would not stop nagging your incel body Rather take a girl than nothing at all There’s a child in the floorboards, you did this A beating heart, punctured lungs, blackened liver The tar in her lungs is suffocating politicians Old men have no idea what to say without repercussion The scriptures tell you that this is your place Take one, take all, kiss to be killed Teach yourself the ways of the echelon And tap the metal against the counter, brain matter There is beauty in the gore of man Relaxed and relentless Her rape repented in midnight confessional No concern They do not fight The drug of your age is choking her right The child in your bed is no longer innocent The flowers that once bloomed are now dead Before your arsenic leaked into her veins She was caught with her stuffed giraffe Begging for her mother She’s afraid of nothing She’s everything or nothing Did the abuse mean nothing? Did justice rewrite what was something? The woman is a ghost She’s walking the stage Her diploma in hand, demanded silence The detective’s vein is popping out of his forehead The green spines caressed as the truth comes tumbling Take a life, take a soul, take the nostalgia of childhood Materialistic rewards, medals in your office Do you remember what you did? Do you even remember her name? Or just the way her virginity felt? “God-given” They claim