BLOOD CHILD

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You go back into your unbirth

Go back at the same speed
as you were released from the body
that was once your home

You are hugged by incredible warmth

Sticky softness that nothing can penetrate

You were once part of the warmth

So nurturing

So brooding

So tender

You used to be a bed of lining
where new lives can land

It feels nostalgic

People call you menstruation
but you know you are
the fallen angel

falling from the paradise
that is supposed to birth all

You are death
decaying
every month
every minute

You are life
growing
every month
every minute

Now you're back to where you fall from you become unborn undead nonexistent

You are as immortal as you are mortal as alive as you are dead

There is nothing but warm, sticky blackness