...Until Next Time

This day was silent.
As silent as a slaughterhouse
Before the full moon rises,
And the screaming starts.

Like you wanted it,
Like you wanted to suffer.

When the dawn comes,
the ritual is already over.
You're left on his personal altar
Bleeding, and in tears.

And for the next four weeks,
a consecutive cycle,
you're beautiful and secure
And healing for the next time.

But then, "It's time, I have to start getting ready."
"I have to meet him, he says he still loves me."

The day suddenly darkens again,
And he pulls you by an invisible chain.

I can hear him screaming, raging at you
Did you honestly think he cared?

Don't interrupt the prayers,
Don't spill blood where it's not permitted,
Collect yourself and leave the room,
You're not needed any more.

Until next time.