The hell, left for the wolves. Through black pits of tar my mind was dragged till up it came coated, dripping with muck. I viewed the world through the ooze where my thoughts severed and tore with disgust. I was appalled with what happened because what happened was appalled with me:
I was born.
She went to a church and she pushed me out of her womb, and without knowing what or who or how I would do, she left. She had her life on her mind, and I was in her way.
I still think about you, mother, I think about who you are, where you are, why you never came back to say, “but wait a minute, my baby…that’s my baby.”
ESSENTIAL 