Imogen Westnight

AI accusations are no fucking joke.

Butterfly in the sky, I can go twice as high.

Take a look.

It's in a book.

This is who I am now, a pet, a shape carved by someone else's hands, a thing devoured piece by piece until there is nothing left but obedience, the quiet and the hurt, until hurt is all that remains.

I chose the man who wanted not who I was, but who I could become, a pet, a prisoner.

Then the door bursts.

Every noun having an adjective attached, certain kind of repetitive syntactical blocks that appear.