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Replying to a comment on:
Hewed (Free verse) by horus8
I will not be
your fucking Hamlet
your common denominator
my mother despises me for
having passed through her body
just like all of the others
that came before me,
but in originating reverse.
her father maybe
my father.
I will not pretend that i
understand how nature chooses to evolve
or, why i prefer the sun to the moon
and a struck midnight, instead of a tired noon.
all of this fighting is killing me,
but i don't care, and either do you.
insatiable appetites and definitions.
my hands are shatter smashed into the faces
of me, but on them and theirs.
my screams paint the night
a black that would roll your eyes back white
and nauseate the most unrighteous toadie.
We are all killers for our beast.
When i was five, you didn't
exist, but i guess you know me.
and you, that other one.
you only know what i let you.
now watch as my words sink dimorphic
and join yours forever, unconsoling.
with your cute stories and hipped explanations
accompanied by your hard earned 'college'
text book oral terms
Here are some more words for you
to graph and get familiar with to weapon.
'material' for your future 'projects'.
when i was raped*
when i was sodomized**
how i was abandoned***
when i was beaten unconscious
by your various lovers
when i was left with strangers in a strange land
for weeks.
they showed me how to touch me special
and, that one time you super-glued
the broom to my right hand,
clever.
How you are, with
love, and the innocent.
a real fleshy dynamo
a natural leader with your
skillfully painted mouth
and coverup covering
but i never babtised.
that rare illness.
my love given back to me
by the people i was
being a boy for.
You beat me just right,
bloody, for behaving, just a child.
wake up, sheets stuck and dried
red to the backs of my elbows
"see that bird, Jeremi"?
that's your dead stepfather
"will i be a bird one day too, mother?"
no, because i don't think you believe
hard enough
now,
be a good boy
and rub mommie's
neck and back.
Your father is in you
i see him
get used to visiting him in prison
that's all it will ever be
just a visit
you'll be there one day
with him, wait and see
"Mother, why was i born"?
"you're a version of your father and my father"
that i can mannipulate in order
to control myself, and you, for us.
When they finally took me from
you, ten months after
the kidnapping.
i was your you.
your best minimal art, ever.
the trench mouth whisper,
you taught me, can drive a person insane
sometimes both parties
including the occasional
nosey gawking
bystander.
The art of deception.
yes, thank you mother.
i lie so very well
last week i convinced myself
none of it ever really happened
but...truly, my personal favourite?
was, how you could disappear,
and make me too.
my heart
for yours,
a presage.
*love
**lovely
***loveliest
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