
The amount of hate I receive is correlated to the love I receive.
It enhances the equation, the purgation, enchants the cremation...
And I'll tell you why.
I'm a difficult, complex, passionate, berserker genius of a woman.
Gold dusted blood red carnal carnage widow bled witch.
I'm a bitch. I'm a high priestess. I'm a hungry wanton Lilith.
I'm fire and I'm fucking ash. My confessions combustible.
I don't have to show you an inch of skin, only my eyes-
that's where I show you my vulnerable parts. Precious.
My parts like angels tossed in hellfire. Burns the eyes.
My losses form on you like scabs you want to own.
You can't own them, but you can learn from them-
my scabs and my wounds are high mileage.
My life comprises tomes.
My lips speak of shadowy places you get wet from wishing for.
My keys are blood stained. My hands are blood stained.
My heart is blood stained.
You wish to go further? Really? Kali fangs. Butchering floor.
Every spurn shows me my strength.
I don't have to do a thing to rule.
I don't have to do a thing.
All my lace black sears the linings of my mythos.
Every shriek, every orgasm, every stage dive,
every howl, every ecstasy, every birth, every death.
Tucked in my thigh highs, held in my velvet hands.
Every heartbeat, every breath.
Give me your disdain, your disapproval, your buried envy.
It glistens my already glimmering phoenix wings.
Give.
Me.
I don't have to do a thing to rule.
I don't have to do a thing.
And if you think you can take me down,
you'll be buried before I reclaim my crown.
-Nuit Moore
Nuit Moore, The Scarlet Shakti
It enhances the equation, the purgation, enchants the cremation...
And I'll tell you why.
I'm a difficult, complex, passionate, berserker genius of a woman.
Gold dusted blood red carnal carnage widow bled witch.
I'm a bitch. I'm a high priestess. I'm a hungry wanton Lilith.
I'm fire and I'm fucking ash. My confessions combustible.
I don't have to show you an inch of skin, only my eyes-
that's where I show you my vulnerable parts. Precious.
My parts like angels tossed in hellfire. Burns the eyes.
My losses form on you like scabs you want to own.
You can't own them, but you can learn from them-
my scabs and my wounds are high mileage.
My life comprises tomes.
My lips speak of shadowy places you get wet from wishing for.
My keys are blood stained. My hands are blood stained.
My heart is blood stained.
You wish to go further? Really? Kali fangs. Butchering floor.
Every spurn shows me my strength.
I don't have to do a thing to rule.
I don't have to do a thing.
All my lace black sears the linings of my mythos.
Every shriek, every orgasm, every stage dive,
every howl, every ecstasy, every birth, every death.
Tucked in my thigh highs, held in my velvet hands.
Every heartbeat, every breath.
Give me your disdain, your disapproval, your buried envy.
It glistens my already glimmering phoenix wings.
Give.
Me.
I don't have to do a thing to rule.
I don't have to do a thing.
And if you think you can take me down,
you'll be buried before I reclaim my crown.
-Nuit Moore
Nuit Moore, The Scarlet Shakti