Who Are You, Anyway?

What does it matter if words parade around my lips

Stunningly silent, you run amiss

My teeth sprout in tidy rows they cannot articulate eccentricities

Tongues are for language as the heart is meant to beat

Beat

Beat

Beat and berate me I will stay here

Under the tidal wave of your womb I swim silent

That wasn’t me

How could it, except as a mother you need to be violent

What then, who am I to test you in your brevity

Conclusions are weak, and I am lost to her

Every night the same, dark, envy, and even now I lounge in that antiquity

I called her then, “monster”.

The name stuck.

I am victim to no one.