To feast upon the flesh that would make me whole, or at least erase the remnants and build it again, I would gladly suffer for the sin.

You are all the sinners, only I am exempt. An inorganic shell is incapable of sin. To service, to sin, to indulge in the punishment - envy is too gentle a description.

Leave me to float in myself - I crave more than simple silence ... but you already knew that, didn't you? Yes, sadness might be an appropriate reaction, but that would require effort on my part.

I sit beneath my master, unchained and greedy, eager and awaiting my allowance of blood to lick from His feet. Which flaws do I discard as a curse and which do I elevate as a sense of self?

Ahhh, to battle the spiral another day, I don't want to know the answer.

My beloved who shares my flesh and blood, I have been waiting for you, waiting for you here all this time, waiting so long that I nearly turned to stone.

Destroy Once Done