6/30

this was expected, floor knots of stomach in the bed, witching hour watching the flames eat the living, scorching and keeping the dread cresting into night hours, ravishing & craving pages of white screen & the arms of mothers lopped from hope, from one more told hysterics & hysteria & that she was false. Story of witches for our times, story without magic, story in which toxicity took over town & woman was burned in livestream while town became ash & became itself & restored what it called order but was really web cast over the streets, molasses into the eyes of children & brains of cats forming walkers in the streets at night, the curse upon the village, the scarecrow alive & high-stepping on the cobbles, shrieking about the evil of the witches while crunching on her bones, disorder in the cold heat, disorder in the witch-minds, hysteria on the walls, blood on the walls, blood in the air & floors whispering with the creaking of feet, leaking into the streets, leaking out into the vastness of her sobs, lost in the trees, molding into the scratches in the walls, screams into pillows and silence, stealing into the forest alone

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