now here i am....

I am the vestige of an existence,
From a piece of flesh in the litter container of the slum,
Four months before a little hue in the kingdom of eternity,
Four months before a little feather in the wings of the ruler of souls,
For these four months, in the “safest place” one can ever be,
In the womb of a fake virgin,
a patient in the world’s modernization department,
I took all the drugs I can have, in the whole life time of a human,
Even the tranquilizers I had to take, Smoke sometimes covered even me,
With an exasperating reek and throttled me,
I solicited ma mom to help me,
I exclaimed in the peak of ma sound,
Nothing helped me, I scalded inside that safest place,
At the month of four, she the lady named mom,
Pinched of me from her womb with a sharp blade,
And sliced ma veins! Was that my safest place?
Now these are ma ultimate gulp of air,
But I will take birth again in the same mom,
But not as her petite exquisite pearl,
But as the blood smear from her heart or a teardrop form her eyes…