You’ve learned to hate,
starting with the slow
painful quick growing
of your skin,
stretching a betrayal all across your body,
because you’re no longer a child.
You’ve learned to hate
this cage you’ll never be rid of,
for it’s too big,
too fat, too wide,
not skinny enough to swallow your soul whole
and eat you through from
the inside.
You’ve learned to hate
this blood that’s always flowing
when you least need it,
for in the eyes of anyone else
to you it says you’re dirty,
you’re sinful
now that you’ve split
the essence of life upon the floor
and devoured the fruit of heaven,
because you know
you can never go back.
