the day i was born
i got wringed out, hurled out of a belly
like it wasn’t meant for me: ’cause it wasn’t.
mama’s scream wasn’t enough, i couldn’t even hear the doctors but
i heard something, felt skeletal flaps scrattle my nape.
i felt something else – angelic fingers clawing at my wrist,
getting stronger each time i breathed. each time i thought “it’s over” or
i didn’t think at all, i felt something gnawing at my pulse.
trying to part ways with something that loves me so much &
i’ve lost so much strength, so much blood. the baby fat on my cheeks
are shriveled to a toothless grin [an old lady’s].
i could drop these wings if i wanted, get rid of this umbilical cord tied
to my existence. i could…i.. could if i wanted to, r…right?
but someone wouldn’t stop screaming my name.
it’s not intra vires. not at all.