serpent, mercy

the angel with a snake at her breast steps down from the sky and tells me,

this is mercy.

it's fangs pierce into her skin, and without letting go, it feverishly feeds on the blood she sheds.

teeth, clenching in. i can feel it's teeth against my heart,

she tells me

i can feel her heart beat in my jaw,

it tells me.

eyes unblinking, slit pupils alight with awe

conjoined in the way they are, the

two have become one.

what once must have been

fear

for the angel, turned to

love.

what once must have been

hunger

for the snake, turned to

compassion.

the angel and the snake sit with me. the sunlight pools on both of their skin, warms the two bodies. although the angel is not afraid, i am.

i can't take it anymore. i take a knife and try to lunge forward, try to take off the snakes head, try to free the angel.

in my own fear, i was too slow. the angel, in her surprise, moved backwards, falling and crushing the snake. the snake, in pain, bit down and punctured the angel's heart, venom killing her.

i stand over the two, bodies at my feet. the knife i hold does not have even a drop of blood on it. the angel and the snake are dead, hands still curled around it, teeth still dug into her breast. my fear, not the snake,

killed the angel.

my fear, not the knife,

killed the snake.

my worry for the angel

killed them both.

the knife is still unused. i do the only thing i can, and carve my heart out. it does not make up for what i’ve done. even my death is an act of cowardice.

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