A strange multiplicity of sensations seizes you
Metallic smell
Gooey texture
Fermented taste with a tinge of sea
You come out
like a river breaking its dam
like tides under the full moon
You grow from blood
They say your blood is filthy, impure, unwanted
You try to flow into the world
only to receive disgust and aversion
You finally learn that
your blood comes from a part of the body
that waxes and wanes
You are created from blood under every moon
How do people celebrate life while
simultaneously despising where life comes from?
Confusion becomes pain
You are constantly being let go
Pain becomes rage
You are constantly dying bit by bit
and growing bit by bit
Rage becomes clarity
You are the monster they fear
You are simultaneously
the fallen angel and
the ascended demon
You are the ultimate other
and the ultimate self
There is nothing but warm, sticky blackness