On good days she feeds you with crumbs. You are irrelevant. You are only the host that carries the attention that she craves. She smiles at the ease with which you’ve flayed yourself open for her to take. She tosses you scraps of your own ignorance. The trail of hope  that keeps you coming back. She’ll peck until there is no more. You give because you know that if you stop, she will stop. She has no capacity to love. You have too much. You can only speak of the darkness in cliches. Your screams to God tearing through the sky like unholy devastation. Finding no ears, they only echo back. She is the embodiment of His cruelty. The trick up His sleeve. “What if” jams the trigger.