This year is the story of nothing. Nothing and all that kneads into nothing.
Which is everything. Everyone. Everywhere. All of it infused with the heart and drive to devour these monsters.
I am crafted from violence. I am carved from the cavities of the dead.
My DNA is congealed blood, seared skin, cracked bone.
My bones bear witness to slaughter.
I am a child of complicity, you see, but the bones of the dead never surrender.
They pay heed to the nothing that will not be nothing.
The bones of the dead, you see, will have the last word.
Children of complicity: listen to the bones.
