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v.f. thompson

I Was a Camera

i never thought my purpose a violent one
until I met her 
her eyes bright, 
her trust in me and my mistress pure

i did not know that i could hurt
could harm
could kill
until my lens
meant to capture
to preserve
to create and celebrate
was shattered 
and the pieces of my glass eye 
were slipped beneath her naked skin
slicing away the layers 
and exposing the raw red beneath
then slipping through the muscle
severing sinew
sawing through bone
until all that was left was empty black and white

my flash was never meant to be a flashbang
the studio where i lived and worked
a no man’s land of lies and coercion
the hands of the mistress i trusted 
betraying me 
reshaping me into a weapon

i was a camera 
now i am only a gun
and the pictures i take
are all of open wounds ​

v.f. thompson

v.f. thompson is an artist and activist based out of Lansing, Michigan, where she strives to use her skills as a library school dropout to foster communication across boundaries. she seeks to use multimedia storytelling to help build bridges between the world of academia and diy culture, chipping away at our vertically segregated information economy piece by tiny piece. when not concocting propaganda in the dead of night or bellowing through a bullhorn in clown makeup, she can be found crawling through the comics section at her local library, watching too many online videos about postmodern theory, and losing her mind over the end of the world. follow her on facebook, twitter, or, gods forbid, tumblr.