Do Not ask me who i come from

BY EMMA SWAN

you are bold true someone told you the world moves left and you believed and in believing saw oceans as blue and land as green so

do not ask me where i come from

there the earth is brown seas are molten crevices just black and hold disguises of

my Looming Ancient Monsters who complain when i don't worship them pass shadows over their

altars are covered in grime and i bathe in it drink it in it is our holy water and gospel and there is no one else

out there to preach to me otherwise once i've said my grace i end up on a plate awake and breathing

sweet and buttery to outside and uninvested eyes it doesn't matter what i was between egg and bird

what i am not is meat even though i pose and lay so tender for your maw once pulverized so i wouldn’t bubble when blown on

my brittle hollow bones poke out into the threatening throat I tremble feathered wings that have long forgotten to fly or swim

when you tremble i tremble but we are afraid of different things are stiller here without the Old Gods watching over me, two Inflated Master Fish dancing to whatever currents

they too are beholden to i would match the dance if my legs still worked i’ve been swimming in tar so long they don’t fan the proper way and when i smell

the petroleum in the water They say it smells like honey so i breathe it until it coats every crevice of my empty lungs

when you ask me if i prefer it on the green earth i have to pretend i don't

we are supposed to love home and who labels it

i can't tell if i was made a monster or a crab, but either way, i once was hard