purified in the stream of hunger, eating the sin off my bones. self-subsistent self-destruction. if less of me exists, maybe I’ll exist less. longing for freedom, for lightness. gravity loses its hold. 

will I be made worthy if there is less of me? is the price of love emaciation? flesh falls off the bone. tainted flesh, tainted flesh. find your cell in our red light district, snare a passerby. the less of you there is, the more noticed you will be. you grew in size, began to hide in plain sight. just longing for someone’s eyes to get stuck, to stop their roaming, to decide that in the rough, you are the diamond. 

but I was taught it is my own flesh that obscures the diamond. I pursed my lips to expose my own worthiness. I pursed my lips, but starved for love. I pursed my lips because I was starved for love. I pursed my lips and only grew hungrier than I already was. who denies themselves, hoping for the hunger to abate?

make me holy, make me holy. the price of holiness is your own damnation. you long to be the idol, the price is truth. glitter thrown on lead.