Foreign Policy

The parts will come together.
Slice them. Saw them. Sew them. Staple them.
Make it work.
We have the spark of godliness.
We channel the powers of heaven.

Death is nothing.
Black thread weaves it all together.
Trembling hands pulling.
Bleached teeth biting.
Knotty fingers tying knots.

We shall create. It shall arise.
We shall repeat the ancient miracle –
but this time, with perfection.

A familiar face stares upward.
We will fix you.
We will make you more than you ever were.

Storm. Mighty storm. Lovely storm.
Birth is always bloody – and loud.
The giant waits.
Insert the prongs. Raise the rod to heaven.
Flip the switch.

This is all you lack.

The power sizzles through you now.
Our power.
Do not fear the pain.
Fear is for the unknown. Pain is clarity.
Pain is life.
Your screams are lovely to us.
Your struggle gives us hope –
makes us whole.

Precious monster, you are beautiful. You are ours. You are loved.

…but why do you break the chains we gave you?
And why is there anger in your eyes?