There was very little difference between her fist and her womb
while i announced my arrival into this world.
Sailing over to life's preceeding phase, i felt it slightly clenched,
driving away folly's flies hovering the naivity of my mind's wound.
Several miles away from the crossroad of adulthood, i felt her fist
reinforced with pre-cast steel. Dishing me many blows. I couldn't
accept the fact that she was my biological mother...
Somany years have gone by, keeping us great distant apart...
'get the blankets off over you...'
'it's getting late, go home...'
'go back and appologise...'
'i think you're crossing over the edge...'
Yet; i feel momma's fist even harder on me, MY WILL.
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