Venison's Dossier - Introduction: Venison

I wasn’t born in a forest

raised in meadows with dainty, quivering steps

seeing sunlight fractured through the trees

like spears raining down from above

I wasn’t born a fawn, but I might as well have been.

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I was a girl,

aching for life outside of my own

an imagination so wild it kept sleep locked away,

an old habit that would linger, even now.

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I was a child,

that was unafraid of my voice ringing clearly

through my cream-coloured halls

as a fawn is unaware of the threats of a predator

I brought myself the eyes and grinned at my collection.

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But leaves fall.

those meadows become unrecognizable

plastered with snow and slush

that sunlight lasts mere moments

and my dainty steps become a sprint,

desperate to hide.

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I wasn’t hunted by a hunter

But I had targets on my back

that bright red dye that made me stick out

in those cold hallways, not so unlike a blizzard.

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I wasn’t murdered for the fuel of nutrients

but for the fuel of ego and insecurity,

grinding down slowly, ever so slowly that my molecules were changed

skinned and cooked, served on a plate

leaving me helpless and lying there,

just meat.

Venison.

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…but I will not sit still to be eaten.

No longer am I dainty, or look beautiful or at peace

But I cannot be broken down by those who let me bleed

Words can still escape me, ideas from my ever-so-poignant imagination

drift slowly onto pages, and make sure they never forget

I am changed, but I will not be changed by them anymore.

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I will not be devoured

I will rot.

Under my own control,

pouring out every inch of my mind

until the key can be retrieved,

and sleep can escape.

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I was never a deer, but please, let me believe so.

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