The taste of blood in mouth,
Beads of sweat, shaking breaths.
Delivered from the womb,

The world quaking inside.
Eyelids that flicker, cold shivers-
Aching bellies, belligerent

Body consumes, rotting gut
With foul, fermenting stench.
Siphoned out and shot up-

Tie a ribbon around tight,
Pale skin, veins protruding;
Lukewarm, opaque skin

Covering blue aqueducts.
Tape mouth shut, singe
The hairs that raise in gooseflesh.

Bite down, the tongue writhes
In the white chains, blood draws-
A breath exhales, exhales.

Fingers softly guide slender
Metallic forms to soft, fertile
Groves , the crook of an arm.

Eyelids close, fish swimming up,
Up, upstream to breed and die.
Numbness descends, the rattling

Of the world halts a moment-
Inhalation, the broiling gullet quiets.
Then a jarring , bottled through bottleneck,

Back into the womb; an odd
Artificial jar. Suspended in viscous
Liquid, reeking of the dead-

unnatural in pallor, wax
Figurines which lay motionless.
Now, taken to the shelf. The lid

Is ******* on tightly, sealed shut.
Oddities placed upon display,
Hidden away for night fascinators,

Those witches and witch doctors.
Floating limply in sickly yellow,
Skin looks stained with iodine.

Exhale, exhale again until empty,
Lungs collapse and gasp for oxygen.
Resist with fervor, deny deny deny-

The power is not in wispy fingers with
Dirt embedded nails-chipped away and
Chewed upon. Nature's coursing chemicals-

Instinctual will to live, for what?
Brain deprived, Senseless to survive,
inhale the ammonia and ***** of serpents-

Artificial cultivating of embryos,
Only to be born into dirt, onto the
sides of trash strewn streets,

Dampened with spit and rat ****.
The zygote will transform, before birth-
Rigidly imposed changes prevail.

Inhale, inhale, inhale. Taste the
Putrid regret, the rot gut intensifies
(it takes more now than before).

Acrid lungs and rust colored blood-
Coagulated, dried in the mouth.
***** blackened chunks onto

Oak wood porch of elderly lovebirds
Who will curse and pray and curse
And pray, yet shrivel and die naturally,

Shrinking into their flaccid skin
At the approach of the jars contents,
At the infant of chemical wombs.

A sign out front reads "A child is god's gift".
Infanticide predestined, premeditated,
More than Amelia, more, more.

Shaking hands, shoot up again,
Who was that who hollowed out
Your skin? Once gleaming eyes burn out,

Burn out, are ugly ashes in the wind.
Is this what you wanted?
Little pock marks bleed again.