Mother World

Twelve O’clock in the morning.
Flying at me like an attacking vulture without any warning.
Oh the violence so near!
Oh the incestuous emotions!
Fuck you! There’s no Good Mother here.

Ice must run through your veins.
Never loving. giving conditionally;
I could never please you.
Which one of us was in sane?
I stopped trying.
When I turned 8;
before it was too late, for me.

How did I learn the world to be feared?
Hiding my heart away not to be seared.

No one ever gave me their hand up to start.
Why would they give me their heart?


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