Why a Motorcycle? It used to be a distant dream, something unattainable, it was love at first sight if you will. I saw it in a magazine and then on the flickering lights of what I would know later as a television. It was something I wanted as much as I wanted to run on the surface forever. To shed my scars and become a normal human being, to learn about outside things and to laugh and play like every other normal surface dwelling child. Only later did I realise I hardly wanted to be normal after all.

It became the thrill of danger, freedom, the rebel inside me once I ran from my tomb keeping duties. I listened to the tiny voice inside me that whispered 'this is what freedom is, you did it you did it' and I wanted to scream because no, it's never enough, it will never be enough and I was right, because I wanted more thrills, I wanted revenge, I wanted so much to take the Pharaoh s host and rip him limb from limb and heart from chest, become the chaos I knew my siblings would hate and to go against everything I d ever been taught.

I

want

to

live.

Now though, now it's something else all together.

There is no thrill left, no surge of joy, no energy flowing through my veins.

I don't even ride it because of how familiar it feels, no, rather the opposite, I ride it because of how dangerous it is with someone as reckless as me behind the wheel. I don't even remember the last time I rode with a helmet.

I picture myself mangled between bolts and screws of scalding metal and it's sort of romantic. Of the shards tearing inside of my skin and letting my ruby blood seep from my corpse and into the watching eyes of the public. I'd like to make a scene when I die, I'd like for people to miss me, but most of all I want to fuck people over for the rest of their lives. Picture my mangled corpse over and over, haunting them like my past haunts me.

Even in my spare time, off the road or plotting, I want to pull apart my skin and tear myself open, to coat the walls in my own entrails and scream and scream and scream to the sky.

'Why have you forsaken me? What did I do to deserve this life?'

I would never commit suicide but every night I pray to the Gods for an accident.

I am no-one and I have nothing left but nightmares.

I am the chaos I always wanted to be.