I bleed the color black
ashy like cinder covered hands
with fingers that drip with runnings beads of sweat
my talons grip my fledglings

I embrace them to my chest
and let them hear the chronic drumbeats
between my *******,
the serenading chaos, that are my heartbeats

I want them to be like me, let them be like me
with proud hearts and swelling minds
And broad shoulders rising like hills and
heads held high atop mountains

I want to make love to them
when my reflection I see in them,
in the creases of their foreheads
and their smirking lips

in the dips of their spines
and the curves of their hips
In their eyes, where the seed of their sin
And their guilt lie hidden

Concealed under colors of shame
Where tears masquerade a dance of pity
A facet of victimhood to pierce blame,
onto someone else

It was my fault, I admit it
I devoured my children, slowly and surely
Left them weak wills and hollow sentiment
Left them doubts and lies and half truths

Let them think that arrogance meant rewards
And violence, an act of love, an act of care
that living was winning and losing was dying
that fear, and vanity, and death were the only constants

I wanted them to be like me, let them be like me
with black hearts and sorrowful minds
And narrow shoulders and
Foreheads kissing the ground