The year's '95,
And in my mom is me,
But not for long,
Cause I need some air to breathe.
Clawing forth, I burst forth,
And **** in my first sweet breath,
Biggest baby in the place,
****, my head has heft.
"It's no matter," they said,
On my first day out the gate,
"See, there's this thing called fate.
It takes freedom from will,
And Choice is determined.
As for you—baby boy,
Fate says you are destined to burn
To Curse
To Shake,
Hate icing your veins,"
"—And hate has iced my veins,"
I cut in abrupt, granite-cool.
"These pinprick cuts I feel—
Open pain lacing my face—
Have marked me as martyr,
And so my life shall be pain.
I’ve been clawing, am clawing, will keep clawing,
Never calling out for help,
Alone, untold gall, I came out
Of that dirt-riddled world,
That ****-padded hollow,
21-and under gallows.
I paid off the gatekeeper,
So no,
This body won’t follow.
See,
I first went to school,
I first went to read,
Sorting info in body,
I knew the life I would lead.
