The sweet smell of decay rises from beneath me. Her eyes stare at nothing, their whites turned opaque. The color has left her skin; she’s a pale blue now. She came into this world screaming. Inverted her mother’s uterus on the way out. It was a violent and passionate birth, for a violent and passionate woman. Oh, what her life has seen.

What better way to honor the fountains of blood shed that day then to stand tall and walk forward with intention. She goes into the forest to let it take her, and so it does. The trees whisper that it will be quick and painless, the rustling of leaves cry out that death can be beautiful.

The moss blanketed under my skin caresses me and assures me that I will be okay. I close the lids over her dead soulless eyes and I thank her.

I thank her for how she has served me so far in my life. I thread my appreciation into her corpse to let her know she did the best she could. She made it through, from the first day she arrived covered in red, mother hemorrhaging behind her. She never means to hurt the ones she loves, but she knows it well.

I leave the forest behind me, her flesh feeding the earth. I don’t know who or what I will become in the future but one thing I know for sure, it will be ahead of where I’ve been.