untitled memory

i awake, sun choked by black curtains -
it is dawn, he will be here soon,
my tunic a poor shield from his hands,
my core exposed to sick fantasies only
one in power can hope to ever experience

faithfully, he comes for me, bids me carry
the serving tray, exquisite silver reflecting
a mockery of elegance, masking depravity

his lips suck my dreams out, one by one
the world grows hazy, my vision darkens -
his hands are moving, but it is not me...

it is an empty shell, a recepticle for his seed

i awake to sticky sheets, my own blood
pooling there, amidst the carnage
of what was once innocent

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Arios, in the year 154 MA.