Worth.


I gave birth once,

it took more than a day.

I gave birth twice

and it took about five hours

(I danced during).

I gave birth,

but it wasn’t my birth to give.

I didn’t give life.

Bullshit.

I was set on fire

with a simple bodily function.

I gave

I give

for it to be taken.

Really we all give

and take

under a guise of sharing.

Connection,

now there’s the bile

I need cleared out.

The pain of sociability is reaching out,

getting accepted

and, in a way,

(even in rejection, heck in betrayal)

never letting go.

It’s easier to stab oneself in the eye, no?

Attachment

Karmic entanglement

whatever

you’re bound for life,

sucker.

I wish us well with that.

I give birth

truly giving birth:

The sun screaming at me

to pry my eyes open.

I revolt

by opening them wide

to get on.

We’re all little revolutionaries

guerilla movements

crowding into the next day’s

Square.

We continue

we give birth

and we don’t know

why

we struggle

kicking out

we just do.

Babies sucking on a tit.

Sun hitting us in the face.

Dying

together.

We just do

gunga din.

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