I exist.

I know it

Because I feel pain

The agony as I kill myself.

The luxurious curves are cut away

No more nonsense, I tell myself unmercifully

Wielding the evil knife shaped like an endless clock.

I become limited, beauty-less, shapeless, frill-less

I get smaller, thinner, transparent

As the excess layers fall

To planes and angles.

Cut, cut, cut,

Dying.

Go on,

Shave the head

Glory is a farce anyway.

Slice away the smooth skin,

Reveal what truly lies beneath

The humanity, the blood, the bone.

What is normally distributed

Into bell-shaped curves

Lies not in me, since

I am an outlier

Dying.

Breathing

While life leaves

Becomes so difficult.

What is actually normal?

I cannot know reality

Until I fully let go

Of myself.

Cut, cut, cut

Until I exist without pain

Despairing, I might as well be dead…

And marvelous things begin to happen inside.

A woman is born and flowers from within the ghost

The cadaver vanishes to give place to a lovely joyful bride

Beauty transforms the vile slime into translucence

A heart of flesh replaces the vicious bitter rock.

But then, it is the end of the world…

My time has come, since

I am no more.