The following with be included in the Cravings collection. Enjoy.
I watched a raven devour a field mouse today.
It was not like anything I had seen before. Bits of fur and bone disappearing in the dark beak of the bird. It was greedy in its meal. Reminded me of you when you ripped out my soul and tossed it in the river like a skipping stone. I wonder if that’s where the mouse will end up. Will it float along in a sea of mistrust and loss? Or will it feed and nourish a nearby tree for the winter? My soul fed and nourished me until it skated along the banks.
You weren’t one to stand on ceremony. No candles were lit, no prayers said. Riiiiiiiip! Like a strip of old duct tape not wanting to release its hold. I didn’t tell you what that felt like, having my soul torn from my body. It was much like the field mouse breaking under the raven’s beak. Harsh and painful. Destructive and wicked. You could never understand the betrayal behind such a gesture.
One day you will be the mouse, and someone will be the lucky raven. Someone will feast upon your soul and devour you like they haven’t eaten in days. A deep, rumbling hunger will take hold and, no. They won’t be able to hold back from tearing you apart, breaking you down. Forever will you writhe in pain and longing for the suffering to end. You will gladly renounce your damaging deeds, trade your life’s blood, to rectify the wrongs you have caused.
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