This poem sits alongside my short story The Sin-Eater’s Daughter, drawing on the same themes.They lay the bread across her chest still warm from baking, salt-edged, dense and I'm meant to take her darkness in.
Hmmmn…loving the multiple layers present in your poem’s depiction of this solemn assembly. Given it’s the cultural norm, the deceased lived and died with the certainty their sin would be eaten, taken, absolved; the family and mourners carry a sense of entitlement, because whatever the ‘price’, they’ve paid it, they’ve baked bread, and the sin-eater will fulfil her calling. Yet, beyond the exterior, it’s intriguing to hear her hold secrets about the efficacy of the process that no one else is privy to. I want to know more…how did she get there? Or is her internal discourse her own escape and denial of her obligatory service, giving herself at least some power over her situation? This is beautifully written and definitely captivating!
You’re reading it exactly where I hoped someone would. The entitlement of the mourners. The transactional calm. The certainty that if the ritual is followed, the debt is settled. No one asks whether the eating works. Only whether it’s done.
I’m happy you want to lean closer rather than look away. That’s the spell I was trying to cast 🧙♀️✨🫶
I don't know if you've ever read Piers Anthony's "7 Incarnations of Immortality" series, but book 6 and 7 were my first introduction to Sin Eaters. Your poem reminds me of that. The concept of the Sin Eater is so deep, the most "empathic" one could be, to not just absorb another's emotions; but to absorb the worst of their sins in death, could there be a more pious position to have in life, but also so heavy and deep. I really loved this poem, and appreciate how it took me back to memories of reading Anthony's series as a teenage, fresh out of an evangelical cult and soaking in science fiction, a genre that was demonized and I was disallowed to read.
I’ve actually never read that series, but I love that connection!!
My first encounter with the idea of sin eating was during one of those late night internet rabbit hole episodes where you click one thing and suddenly it’s 2am and you’re reading folklore. The concept stuck with me for years for exactly the reasons you describe. It’s such a profound empathy, almost unbearably heavy.
I’m really glad you enjoyed the poem. Thanks for reading 🫶💖✨
Oh, I believe you would absolutely love the series. Seven books. I read them in 1986. They are deep and each book follows an Incarnation of Immortality. My favorite of the books is Incarnation of Death with a character, Zane, who becomes the new Incarnation of Death after killing the previous one. He carries stones to determine fates for souls needing balance, riding his pale horse, Mortis. He inherits this role and tools, including the stones, from the original Death. I digress before I find myself rambling on for a novel. It is absolutely a profound empathy, as you say, to be a Sin Eater. Their life spans short, because of the weight they carry. It reminds me of how trauma sits in our somatic and if we don't heal it, someone else could end up carrying it to.
Oh wow, this sounds incredible 🤩 Death as an inherited role rather than a fixed force. Zane carrying the stones, weighing souls, riding Mortis… a devastating responsibility!!
And yes, the Sin Eater parallel is so cool. Taking on what others can’t hold, knowing it shortens your own life. It totally mirrors how trauma sits in the body, and is passed on when it’s not metabolised. Thank you for sharing this. I’m adding it straight to my must-read pile 🫶💖✨
The poem feels like a voice speaking from deep inside the darkness, someone who has carried other people’s sins so long they’ve become part of their own flesh. What moves me most is how sin becomes something tasted, chewed, swallowed iron, smoke, honey as if every human wound leaves a flavor that lingers. The sin‑eater isn’t a healer here but a witness who refuses to pretend innocence exists. The child’s lie growing teeth feels painfully real, a tiny cruelty maturing into something that bites back. The poem’s deepest wound lies in the unspoken sin: a mother’s silence turning into a daughter’s broken wrist. That inherited violence has a weight the speaker refuses to wash away. The villagers’ belief in easy absolution feels almost cruel in its blindness. And the final lines land with a terrible tenderness: taking sin doesn’t cleanse the world it stains the one who swallows it, leaving them to die with a body full of ghosts no one will ever claim.
Thank you for reading it this closely.m 💖 That sense of witnessing rather than healing is exactly what I was circling. Your reading feels like you stepped right into the poem’s core 🫶💖✨
I read your work on Sin Eaters and realise I went into a whole different crazy version. Though the idea of being fed sins through what would be shared communion is interesting.
I love that 💖 That’s my favourite type of response when a piece opens a door and someone walks through a completely different one. That idea of intimacy and contamination sitting side by side is exactly the tension I’m drawn to 🫶💖✨
the way you capture those fleeting, almost intangible feelings and make them so tangible on the page is beautiful. It’s the kind of poem that makes me pause and actually feel the spaces between the words.✨
This means so much to me, thank you 💖 I love that you felt the spaces too. That in-between is usually where the whole piece lives for me. Thanks a bunch for your support 🫶💖✨
Hmmmn…loving the multiple layers present in your poem’s depiction of this solemn assembly. Given it’s the cultural norm, the deceased lived and died with the certainty their sin would be eaten, taken, absolved; the family and mourners carry a sense of entitlement, because whatever the ‘price’, they’ve paid it, they’ve baked bread, and the sin-eater will fulfil her calling. Yet, beyond the exterior, it’s intriguing to hear her hold secrets about the efficacy of the process that no one else is privy to. I want to know more…how did she get there? Or is her internal discourse her own escape and denial of her obligatory service, giving herself at least some power over her situation? This is beautifully written and definitely captivating!
Awww thank you 💖
You’re reading it exactly where I hoped someone would. The entitlement of the mourners. The transactional calm. The certainty that if the ritual is followed, the debt is settled. No one asks whether the eating works. Only whether it’s done.
I’m happy you want to lean closer rather than look away. That’s the spell I was trying to cast 🧙♀️✨🫶
This felt like a tormented soul speaking through to me an ancient incantation. A ritual of torment.
Oooooh I like that 🫶💖✨
I don't know if you've ever read Piers Anthony's "7 Incarnations of Immortality" series, but book 6 and 7 were my first introduction to Sin Eaters. Your poem reminds me of that. The concept of the Sin Eater is so deep, the most "empathic" one could be, to not just absorb another's emotions; but to absorb the worst of their sins in death, could there be a more pious position to have in life, but also so heavy and deep. I really loved this poem, and appreciate how it took me back to memories of reading Anthony's series as a teenage, fresh out of an evangelical cult and soaking in science fiction, a genre that was demonized and I was disallowed to read.
I’ve actually never read that series, but I love that connection!!
My first encounter with the idea of sin eating was during one of those late night internet rabbit hole episodes where you click one thing and suddenly it’s 2am and you’re reading folklore. The concept stuck with me for years for exactly the reasons you describe. It’s such a profound empathy, almost unbearably heavy.
I’m really glad you enjoyed the poem. Thanks for reading 🫶💖✨
Oh, I believe you would absolutely love the series. Seven books. I read them in 1986. They are deep and each book follows an Incarnation of Immortality. My favorite of the books is Incarnation of Death with a character, Zane, who becomes the new Incarnation of Death after killing the previous one. He carries stones to determine fates for souls needing balance, riding his pale horse, Mortis. He inherits this role and tools, including the stones, from the original Death. I digress before I find myself rambling on for a novel. It is absolutely a profound empathy, as you say, to be a Sin Eater. Their life spans short, because of the weight they carry. It reminds me of how trauma sits in our somatic and if we don't heal it, someone else could end up carrying it to.
Oh wow, this sounds incredible 🤩 Death as an inherited role rather than a fixed force. Zane carrying the stones, weighing souls, riding Mortis… a devastating responsibility!!
And yes, the Sin Eater parallel is so cool. Taking on what others can’t hold, knowing it shortens your own life. It totally mirrors how trauma sits in the body, and is passed on when it’s not metabolised. Thank you for sharing this. I’m adding it straight to my must-read pile 🫶💖✨
The poem feels like a voice speaking from deep inside the darkness, someone who has carried other people’s sins so long they’ve become part of their own flesh. What moves me most is how sin becomes something tasted, chewed, swallowed iron, smoke, honey as if every human wound leaves a flavor that lingers. The sin‑eater isn’t a healer here but a witness who refuses to pretend innocence exists. The child’s lie growing teeth feels painfully real, a tiny cruelty maturing into something that bites back. The poem’s deepest wound lies in the unspoken sin: a mother’s silence turning into a daughter’s broken wrist. That inherited violence has a weight the speaker refuses to wash away. The villagers’ belief in easy absolution feels almost cruel in its blindness. And the final lines land with a terrible tenderness: taking sin doesn’t cleanse the world it stains the one who swallows it, leaving them to die with a body full of ghosts no one will ever claim.
Thank you for reading it this closely.m 💖 That sense of witnessing rather than healing is exactly what I was circling. Your reading feels like you stepped right into the poem’s core 🫶💖✨
I read your work on Sin Eaters and realise I went into a whole different crazy version. Though the idea of being fed sins through what would be shared communion is interesting.
I love that 💖 That’s my favourite type of response when a piece opens a door and someone walks through a completely different one. That idea of intimacy and contamination sitting side by side is exactly the tension I’m drawn to 🫶💖✨
the way you capture those fleeting, almost intangible feelings and make them so tangible on the page is beautiful. It’s the kind of poem that makes me pause and actually feel the spaces between the words.✨
This means so much to me, thank you 💖 I love that you felt the spaces too. That in-between is usually where the whole piece lives for me. Thanks a bunch for your support 🫶💖✨
Thank you for writing this beautiful piece 🫶🏼✨