I mix the ash with blood and write my name In the grimoire where the dead all did the same My handwriting looks like my mother's hand Which looked like her mother's — understand That I'm not writing something new tonight I'm adding to a manuscript of blight And beauty — there's beauty in the ink More beautiful than anyone would think The ash remembers what the fire consumed The blood remembers what the womb presumed Together they make ink that writes itself A story pulled from a forbidden shelf I write in ink and ash My entry in the book of aftermath Every word a scar that heals Every line a broken seal that reveals Ink and ash and blood and bone I write the chapter I have grown Into — not chosen, not designed But written in the ink of Thornwood's mind What do I write? I write the truth: "I came here angry. I came here uncouth. I came here human, ordinary, small. I leave as something stitched into the wall." "I learned the language thorns have always spoken. I mended every seal they said was broken. I danced with corpses, poisoned with the flowers, And spent my séances in the midnight hours." The ash settles where the fire once blazed The blood dries into patterns that have praised Every Thornwood woman who has held this quill And written in the book against her will — or with it I write in ink and ash My entry in the book of aftermath Every word a scar that heals Every line a broken seal that reveals Ink and ash and blood and bone I write the chapter I have grown Into — not chosen, not designed But written in the ink of Thornwood's mind My entry reads: "Vesper Thorn. Last of the blood. First to read every page. She did not fight the book — she JOINED it. She did not fear the poison — she BECAME it. She did not mourn the dead — she COMMANDED them. And when the ink ran dry... She opened her veins and wrote the rest herself." I write in ink and ash (This is my testament) My entry in the book of aftermath (I am not the last) Every word a scar that heals (The book continues) Every line a broken seal that reveals (What I've become) Ink and ash and blood and bone (Permanent) I write the chapter I have grown (Irrevocable) Into — I chose it, I designed (Yes I chose this) Every word in ink of Thornwood's mind (And I would choose it again)
