Thirteen Cuts

The first page of the grimoire reads: "Thirteen cuts to plant thirteen seeds. Each cut a doorway. Each wound a root. Each scar a connection from crown to foot." Prepare the blade... Prepare the body... The body is the altar... The blood is the offering... Cut one: the left palm — OPEN This is the hand that holds the broken Thread between the living and the dead The first ancestor rises from the red Cut two: the right palm — MIRROR Now the signal's getting clearer Two palms bleeding, circuit complete The grimoire's pulse syncs with my heartbeat Cut three: the inner wrist — PULSE POINT Where the blood runs to anoint The doorway to my grandmother's voice She speaks: "You've made the only choice" Cut four: the shoulder blade — WING ROOT Where the raven's talons took their route The scar remembers being owned The cut reminds me I've outgrown Thirteen cuts — thirteen doors Thirteen ancestors on thirteen floors Thirteen wounds — thirteen seals Thirteen truths the grimoire reveals Cut by cut I carve the map Cut by cut there's no way back Cut by cut the blood draws lines Between the living and the shrines Cut five: above the heart — THE CORE Where the manor's roots begin to bore Into my chest — I feel them GRIP The fifth ancestor takes a sip Cut six: the navel — ORIGIN POINT Every joint begins to disjoint And reassemble — not quite right — My spine arranges to the grimoire's sight Cut seven: the throat — VOICE CHANNEL My vocal cords become a panel Of frequencies I've never made The seventh ancestor lends her blade Cut eight and nine: both inner thighs — Where the root system starts to rise Twin cuts like railroad tracks of red Connecting living flesh to dead Thirteen cuts — thirteen doors Thirteen ancestors on thirteen floors Thirteen wounds — thirteen seals Thirteen truths the grimoire reveals Cut by cut I carve the map Cut by cut there's no way back Cut by cut the blood draws lines Between the living and the shrines Cut ten: the spine — BETWEEN THE VERTEBRAE The pain is white — I can't see straight — but stay The tenth ancestor is the OLDEST one She whispers: "Almost done, almost done" Cut eleven: behind the ear — THE WHISPER POINT From here I hear the house appoint Me keeper — me custodian — me PRIEST Of the rituals they never ceased Cut twelve: the sole of my left foot — THE ROOT From here the manor takes its route Directly through my skeleton I am the altar — I am done — but ONE Cut thirteen: (pause) The grimoire says... "The thirteenth cut is made by the house itself." I wait. The blade is in my hand but the grimoire says... wait. The floorboards split beneath me. A thorn rises — black and ancient — Twelve inches — thick as a finger — And it pierces through the arch of my right foot. THE HOUSE HAS MADE THE FINAL CUT. Thirteen cuts — thirteen doors (THE DOORS ARE OPEN) Thirteen ancestors on thirteen floors (THEY'RE RISING) Thirteen wounds — thirteen seals (THE SEALS ARE BROKEN) Thirteen truths — FINALLY SPOKEN Cut by cut I AM the map Cut by cut there IS no back Cut by cut the blood has DRAWN The lines between the dusk and dawn I AM THE ALTAR I AM THE BLADE I AM THE OFFERING I AM THE TRADE THIRTEEN CUTS AND THIRTEEN SCARS I AM THE DOOR BETWEEN THE STARS