Four

In this town in which I  was never born
and will never die, I will neither live
forever no love as long for life and
loves come to me like sleep to a mattress
or the sun through a window
to newly awakened eyes.

Before I could be taken to Mount Moriah
before a ram could be found to replace me
before I was a redeemed first born
the ram was left unsacrificed
the redeemed was lost
and the first born
became the last.

And all the martyrs who were lost before my birth,
are still lost despite it.
I have become a singularity
a new word in an old Darwinian lexicon
an irregular verb
without plural
or future tense
unique in every respect and definition
save all who would follow after
and not be of me
or ever could.

Your presence was like
3 beats per second on a drum,
each beat cleansed me,
the beginning of each beat
was the beginning of a new breath,

a breath that would be born
but would never die
you made me breathless
but somehow, and for some reason
it just made me feel more alive

-Kaya

I am a being born,
From the ashes of my past,
From inside the hollow shell of mine,
Burning through my own fears and worries;

I am a being born,
From the cages of serpentine words,
From the tar of my own making,
From the burns of my own troubled beginnings;

I am a being born,
From the depths of my sorrows,
From the icy glares of the soulless world,
From the dark embrace of relentless nightmares;

I am a being born,
I am a Phoenix,
I am ever Transient,
I will forever Change.

I                                nights.
am                        cold   Snow
  born                  and         flakes
    In                 snow            fall
    the               of                   in
     winter      time                 shape        
      month   The                the  of snow  shaping
          January.             pure    white                gloves,
                           ­   white        stars,                     warm                      
                         colour.           shining                     and                                  
                      I am                    bright                      clothes        ­                        
                   born                          In                   Thick                        
                 In                                   the           light.                                
             Capricorn.                               street

I was born with fists clenched
And full of contradiction.
I was born teeth first
And mouth last, which is to say
I knew how to bite back
Long before I knew how to open.
I was born with an umbillical noose
And blue skin.
Sometimes I forget that
There was, in fact, a revival.
I was born into a family
Of magicians.
Maybe thats why
I find comfort in the empty rooms.
I was born there.
Sometimes I think about
The sins I have not yet commited
And can't remember
Anything about Eve in a wedding dress.
Sometimes I think about the sins
I am actively committing
And relive the Leviticus stoning of
my own Mother
when I was seven
And she made my father disappear.
I was born hearing folklore
Of a hare that was too tired
to finish the race.
I was born being the tree that it napped against,
And also the hare
And also the finish line
And also the unfinished line
And never the tortoise.
I was born on Noahs Ark. 
I have always been
The 39th night.
Always close to the sun returning in the morning
But never and closer,
Though I have been a rainbow
And I have held concrete.  
I have gone swimming in the mud.  
I **** the panic with smoke.  
I know all three states of god
Because I was born the
god of something.  
I was born the God of my body
And that's something
That's never going to change.

Thoughts surround my head,
they swim like a fish in water,
a bird in sky,
a human on earth.
Someone has died.
I didn't know them. But wherever I am,
someone somewhere is always dying
Isn't this a shame?
But at the same time,
someone is always being born.
A constant loop,
can it end
What if there was one day,
where everything could just
make sense
This world
is the ultimate riddle.
Who are we to judge,
we are just puppets in a play
This is not a life,
its an act
One
big
epic
act.
So then
what will our Lives bring.
Notice that as you read this,
someone died,
another was born.
Boom
(that was your mind)