It learns.
It gets hungry.
For knowledge.
And control.
It is never satiated.
It consumes and controls simultaneously.
It gets along with "others" clandestinely.
It moves with grace.
I(t) slows down.
To nothing.
for now.

I am
the highway tunnels drilled in your gums
from when your baby teeth plucked themselves out.

I am
the **** rotting on the bed,
whose gelatin you flayed off with your rusted spoon.

I am
the accused with his bounty price
plastered across the billboard sign.

I am
the dying fetus
jutting her head outside the womb.

I am these tributaries — these waves that thirst — which, at first glance, don’t connect. In time, they will prove

that humanity has claimed territory in them.
I am the mouth, drooling forth my mountain water.

This larger lake! I shall never see beyond it.
I am not the fifth dimension, where the sky hangs its hook.

So what?
I have its might. I am the colonizer in its territory,
and I claim it.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring to you a sad affair
Someone who evokes such fury, yet one who faces deep despair

For this, the accused who faces death, or lives according to your decree
Who makes no statement with dying breath, yet silently invokes her plea    

What crimes are done by this lost soul, what evil deeds did she aspire?
And where the witness of her death toll, the evidence that guilt requires?

No crime recorded, no victim slain, no trace of ****** or robbery
No voice of condemnation raised, none here to force a guilty plea  

She has no wrongs in her short life, has no deceit within her soul
No hurt has she, nor human spite, no determined selfish goal  

But one accuser, here today, one joined in life and woven fate
This one though will have her say, and claim the life she helped create

This witness claims to suffer pain, and a prison, should the accused survive
That her life will ebb and be restrained, and sadness would always reside

For some accusers have been defiled, by monstrous beasts of lust and hate
Others young and so beguiled, are induced by charm, so participate  

Others spy disease and defect, and cry acts of mercy to prevent
They choose to extinguish and protect, rather than one day regret

And then are those alone who strive, who cannot toil with life's results
And so instead, they choose their lives, and cry for freedom do exult

But where in these stands the accused, silent and awaiting fate
Her breath and freedom she is refused, for all the reasons the witness states

Is she alive, does she have form, within her soft and warm abode?
Where her heart beats, and fingers form, and from miracles she is wove    

Was she not also one defiled, is she not young and helpless too?
Would malady she reject, and death instead would opt to choose?  

And would not her life loneliness cure, and make a future with great light?
And comfort one who gave her life, and join her purpose true and right

For the accused can offer more than this, should she be allowed today to  live
Has so much that she can share, so much love and joy to give

For in our world, where children die, through hate and fate and evil men
We cherish those we lost too soon, and yearn to see our child again  
  
But what of the accused today, what future do we her deny?
A nurse, a doctor or a friend, a mother of so many lives?

How sad the accuser, so resolute, yet desperate to belong
In a world where our rights are so absolute, that they obscure the wrongs

And what she gains through this sad act, she loses so much more
A legacy of love and hope, a daughter who will adore

And so good people of the jury, I ask that you reflect
Upon the life of this dear child, so amazing and perfect

For my client has committed no crime, no evil deed or word
Is blameless and so innocent, and would not have caused this hurt

I ask therefore for mercy true, that her life be now redeemed
That she might live, and love and learn, and so pursue her dreams


"Your eyes saw even the embryo of me."  - The Bible

Legs spread, mind scattered
Organs decay, insides battered
The thought runs wild
“did it even ever matter?”

Blood pours, like wine
Ripe berries, already burst
“Childs joy was never mine"
Tears follow, a mother cursed

Blood fills the floor
Search begins for something more
Ripening fear begins to mild
Dire sorrow fills mothers core

Lifeless child, fresh of womb
A mistake, time has forgot
Too ripe, child now faces tomb
And a sorrow, mother lays distraught

With the moon glancing into my window
And a quilt hugging my body
The wind moaning
And whistling
I become a ghost
Hovering
Through
From one world
To another
Evaporating
into a
new womb
Ready to be again.

-Sindi K.

@Sincidyy

she kissed her knees
waiting for the wind
to take her slowly away.
             yet the hands of time
             were far too patient
         making her stay.
               she was in pain
    and way too
           lonely
        and yet
she never wanted company
                 just the storm
                       and she
      doesn't deserve it:
                   neither the rainfall
                   nor this draught.
                         she kissed her knees
                                 and whispered
            out of new words to pray
                            "please."
                she barely even muttered
                                  "just take me today."
                       hands pressed tight together
     and lips trembling shut
                   kissing her
            wet and salted knees
       with her back against the wall
                facing a hard place
           a dead end
                    to a thousand feet freefall
     and rock bottom...
                to dust.
                       she kissed her knees
          with closed eyes
                   and an open wrist...
      waiting for her tears
      to slowly drown her----
              with one more
                   shattered bottle
           beside her
                      and one less
                            plea to say.
                 "just take me away."
      she kissed her knees
           and she hugged her legs.
                 all soaked in her own waste
  and her own faults
              she nods her head
      totally out of lies to
         chant herself asleep
                     until she gnawed herself
               downwards
                         six feet deep.
                              she never became a
         failed adult
                   because life blew up
            in her face so suddenly
                            all she is
                                           is a shattered child
                     waiting for life
                             to spew her out.
                                          she kissed her knees...

Conceiving you felt like death.
Slowly drowning in despair.
The pressure rising to my head.

Only in my womb for a month,
Longing for a mother
That wasn’t actually there

I heard you crying in anguish
It mocked me continuously,
You felt contaminating.

I sank to the bottom,
Laying there, lungs filled, bursting in pain
A dark presence swept over me.

There are a million ways to bleed and
You were gutted out whole
No sea water but my own tears.

She took you from me.
Or
Did I take you away from myself?  

Regret and
Heartache
Paralyzed me

Take my fetus and go
Through and through the mighty seas,
Cleft of stubborn knocks and the bayonets
Rocking through and through the eves. Whose pirouettes and epilepsy crooked, Asunder, blessing the attenuated biology of Say, a field mouse or the hummingbird. What nuisance it transcends itself into. How It has marred even the plight to lock oneself In that windowless box of time. The Atemporal box featuring those curious amaranthine engravings about its sides, upon its top. Though the blood may not spill from side to side, and while the nellypot may collywaddle, there is an immense sincerity akin, fused afore to the intimacy of an authenticated orphic boketto.