Child of Chaos

By Brianna Byers


Sticky blood coats my fingers, placing me into a red tar lake, stuck in between  the earth’s atmosphere and the voids of space. 

This encases my soul in a fiery hell of warning and wading the seas of this change.

Nothing feels right as the hot tears tumble down the concave surfaces of my face. 

My eyes peer at the mirror, utterly confused at what is projected into the static in front of me.

Wild thoughts travel across the soft membrane of my brain, like free, raging horses that  leave behind divots the size of majestic comets. 

This thumping feeling coming from the attic of my body pounds my soul into the ground, throwing my being into chaos and madness.

Chaos, the mother of my body, the one who created me and placed her soul into me with the gentlest touch now places the  weighted expectations of womanhood on her daughter.



Who is this daughter?

Is she me?

Am I her?

Has my mother Chaos created such a monster that doesn’t feel like their mother’s child?

Here I float in the space between the atmospheric wasteland of womanhood and the heaven of androgyny.

The gates of this heaven and hell will not open for one like me. 

I will live on forever in this little sliver of lights, leaning from left to right

Nothing more and nothing less then the child of Chaos; who will live and die, and be reborn into me once more.

Mother Chaos you have created no monster but a beautiful creature who will guide those from heaven to hell and into the sanctity of limbo. 

All my life I have looked for a word to describe what I am, that being a being of curiosity and madness combined.

I am Purgatory. Between beauty and death.

So next time I feel the sticky tar substance of blood coat my finger I will not cry tears of pain. 

But will allow the salty lanceolatus of hormones to fall as I am now completely whole. 

So now I will reintroduce myself as the demigod I am. 

I am Purgatory, the guide to the lost and confused. The middle ground of a girl and not.