Feminist Horror as Dystopia (After Coralie Fargeat’s film *The Substance*)

You made a Dystopia of our anthropocene

—perhaps little had to be made—

—for millenia made what You moulded—

—running backwards from 4

—counting down the months

—or weeks —or days

—or is it only hours we have left?

i know You well enough to see

the repression—the pain—

in your inner city—

masked so well the masses go blind

—placated by smiles and—smothered

affection— You say it would be bet-

–ter—if we had never met—

yet

You are not ready to let go

complete-

-ly

of the love You know—

the You-

-me—

You split in two

—like old and young—

but your split is of

—You—

‘respect the balance’

—seems a mercy—

next to—

‘NOW YOU CHOOSE’

—and

take my best friend’s definition of ‘Man’

—a predator who takes what he wants

—and

a Feminist Horror

—is less horrifying than

a Feminist becoming a Man—

i head down from the roof—of the roe street carpark—

fairy lights disappear—behind metal doors—

i ride the lift—plummet—to the ground floor

—my car is on level two—

plummet into a melatonin induced—antipsychotic

driven—sleep

for—here drugs are required for beauty

and—beauty is a definition i could not write

—i wouldn’t understand after all—

i’m autistic

so–the officials prescribe me—The Substance—leads

—define— me off to sleep

but—in sleep

i dream of You—