I am her child
I am her child as much as I am her parents,
One mother, one farther, bonded at birth and at death
As the one, the one human being of twine tied wounds
Held in the sun, on the sand, beneath Blue, to blister
Burn, and to blister, to birth, to blister, to bear the burden,
Blistering beloved bees swarm Me and I, and Her and She
Him, and What We Choose to Bee.
Buzz Buzz, Quick as they feast on the flesh of the fair frail fellows of ***
Buzzz, Buzzzzz, Slower as they eat within, create outside the child’s skin
Buzzzzzz Buzzzzzzzz, Ages, Decades, Halftimes past and return between the wickly
Wholesome Hollow Hornet Wasps bites and spits
Spits into the tin can what tender steak meat they bit
Rusted forks and broken shopping charts, twisted from years and weeks
Of Abuse from their School marks at the local Global Coffee shop and Black Soul Café
Ty was the right guy to imply the use of human lye as a Tide Guide to apply to
My o’ My
Inside is now the out, and the out was the inside in waiting.
Beauty and her blossom blooms in form
Laughs and chuckles, hugs and begs for warmth and vice and taboo
Shrinks down and grows up to meet the occasion
Is always loved. Always.
I fly through her smooth metal veins.
Air gushes me to and through, like a letter in a briskly paced postal service fluttering in the wind.
How violent my limbs flail, the whiplash on my head, when I stop and am pushed and pulled through Service Pipe #3498 Liespander Ave. on route to Bus Start #44 on route to Muddy by Water.
Her chuckles boom through her body, vibrates every bit of artificial bone that was once the remains of passive customer both hated and mirrored by Long Striders and Easy Tongues.
I am weak now. I was once the shield that protected her. Held her, Covered her. Away was torn my skin cells to make way for the dynasty of new. Useless and disposable. Old, stupid, but loyal. Loyalty means ****.
*** and *****. Show it, Sell it, Love it.
I grasp to that vital *****, soft and squishy, like my remaining form, only with less keys.
I play a note and walk through those cerebral canyons. My Desires from lonely and sad days are overcome by my awe and disgust in these deep magical valleys.
Somewhere in here, the Queen of Black and Thick controls.
Over perhaps now she controls the queen who controls another.
Like Treadmills in the Pink and Black void.
Metal overcomes again. The grey and Blue strings return to my flesh, knitting through my brass lined wounds, turning me into the weakest book never read.
They pull. I become less strong, less bright, a shadow of who I was. Digression into lust and power.
I am to become a child, a mother, a farther once more.
We all love the youth in control as youth, until we grow old and the youth cast us away the same we casted our old away.
Recurring cycles, Triangles with Triangles,
Fight against the Status Quo to create Your Own. Fair is Fair.
Burn White for Burnt Black. Black and White means nothing. Burning Does.
Repeat and satisfy those who will turn their backs once they out grow you.
Rub and Burn like Rubber on a Very Tall **** that calls the Chicken an ***.
Break free the maze, Shine, open two eyes, not three. Escape. Escape.
The flys are coming around again. Their buzzes echo through these veins very well.
Good metallic acoustics in here. Should spend more time here than what my future upholds for me.
Make that little bit of money. You are nothing in your job. Nothing.
Children, birth your parents right this moment, please and Thank You.