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First breath.
The winded pathway out of the womb.
Calloused hands pulled a pop release.
Deep browns full of black, nothing but ropes and seeds.
Am I a gift? Why do I feel so much pain?
My milk. My mother. Machine of a life.
Mother, mother. Machine of a life.
Separated and scared, I’ve broken my neck.
An offering: Bastard boy, beautiful beast.
Open your mouth, wounded screams.
If you could only see.
If you could only see.
Look at me.
There is no sustenance in the rape and murder of others.

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