I stood up with no conception of safety and took my first steps.
I walked for days across wood-paneled floors with new found independence.
I learned your name, and spoke only that word, but with increasing distance.
I ran away, shaking hands / making plans with heartless hearts pumping semen.
I tired and lay, discontent but distracted by illogical dreaming.
Each useless flutter of my wings was beaten down by the force of gravity.
Each hopeless hope that my mouth formed the words of was drowned out by the impossibility
of what I need.
Futile actions are all I can know.
I can never make my way back home.
Every breath I’ve taken seems to fill me less than it should.
I felt more satisfied with oxygen you gave straight to me.
I’ve come to rely on the air to provide me with more than it could.
I was more satisfied with oxygen I got directly.
I cried myself straight out of my bliss,
and now I’m trying to forget all this shit by any means that exist,
but without fail, I fail.
Ever since I was torn from your womb, I’ve been screaming,
my chin forced up with unfullfillable dreams of the contentment I felt before.
Ever since I was forced out of you, I’ve been shrieking,
my heart bereft of the inimitable feeling of the closeness that was mine and yours.
I dug this ditch with empty speech in vain attempt of a closeness.
(I stared at orbs, absorbed by their light.)
I drifted far away from here to realize what it is to be a child.
(I ran to them, discontent and blind.)
I can’t feel like I did then because I can’t taste milk again.