bionicfemme

Things will get better in time. For now I just need to find a way out of here. I want things to change. I feel the unique person I am in life and love stirring through my blood and woven deep in my sinews; I am proud of the strong code of honor I adhere to but am ashamed of the way it is received.

Down on all fours. Beast-human hybrid like Robin in Nightwood. Standing at attention as a night watchman in a wax museum.

Is there really space for magic and fairy dust in an age of practicality and industrial wonder? The fact of the matter is that things must change, the old order must fall. It is good to live. A whimper and a howl. La Femme Bionique simpering on her haunches before an axe of realization. The crack of a whip smarting against the small of the back, a tug of the chain.

Last words. Primal and Puritan. You are the lover and you are the fighter. You are what is right in this world, yet not what is real in this world. You want sex and fire and artistry and the curve of a hip, the intensity of an eye.

And for that, Bionique, there is no room for you to be. Leave your adoration for the void, and await the inevitability of maddening, jovial beauty to come upon you.

Descend. Go down. Never, never return.