To Be Devoured

by Sara Tantlinger

I thought if I became one of them, if I learned to fly and feast and circle the world in silent gestures, perhaps all the love I buried these past twenty-some years would grant me peace.

I am the daughter of wrath, and to wrath I shall return.

The way the syringe slid into her so easily. As easily as my fingers when she was panting for me, when she wanted me. She’d never want me again.

Luna, my love song, my tiger in the forest. I want to apologize. I want to swallow you whole.

The vultures circle above, and a few hang out on the highest branches, an execution committee, waiting and judging.

Her eyes meet mine for a sweet moment and I die inside from the way my love for her blossoms up again and again, always.

Perhaps they will honor me, praise my skeleton and liquifying organs as I return to the earth as we all must. As we all deserve to do and nothing more.

A sour human too discontent in her obsessions and addictions to want anything real in this life.

Waiting for the snow to cover the balding earth and offer a false promise of clean beauty.

All creatures of habit desperately in search of something they will never find.

I found my freedom even if it comes at the cost of such a suffocating, vehement end. But at least it is my ending, my bitter devouring. At least it is something they cannot take from me.