Work Text:
Some days; the mirror still shows my past self.
Young and angry at the world + my old home,
forever a nurturer first, be strong, be silent.
Tied by the neck to my lusus, my matriarch +
mother to all of the future I was meant to build.
Which should’ve been slaughtered with the planet
when the game started. When I was spared the
dignity of an apocalyptic end.
For a few decaying moments, my lusus lived.
She told me to cut out the matriorb + do it
delicately, the future of my species at my mercy.
Memories of the Jade blood soaked egg cowed me.
The reality of its guts + shell laid to ruin haunts me.
Back then everything still ached, just mirrored.
Longing + wanting for the desolation of all that
femininity that caged me. Did past me know
in her brain or dreams or the marrow of ribs
that I’d regret it?