The Hollow Child
He can cry, but
he's not alive yet
caught in a net
of his mother's insides,
larger than the horse he rides
his body grown to the form
of the cave where he abides,
he may exist forever here
but he wants life!
Kick out her stomach,
cut the rope that
ached your wrists
and hung you from her first
breathe with your own lungs,
taste with your own tongue
it's time for our teeth to come in
The newly born
sleeps in his prison
blind to the sun
that glares through wood bars,
burning the fuel in the scars
that cover his flailing arms
Gripping the sacred star,
made from feathers and tar
he only feels mud and whips
so he lives in his mind!
So he watches
the fences take flight
links unwind and turn to kites,
the strings hang from the night
for him to catch and find,
his sight is not bound by his eyes
Carry your legs,
away from the
beggars who crawl
on their backs and follow
your heart as it expands
hold it in your hands
and swear to never be a man
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