Birthday Boy

I googled mapped the search for my father using these birthmarks embroidered on my skin as coordinates Following the footsteps of every cell and atom that holds me like a unfinished puzzle piece waiting to be solved with warmth and lessons on how to tie a tie Winding in the endless maze of my fingerprints But All I have found Are birthday cakes marked as sweet eulogies for my mom's virginity Leaving a bitter sweet taste As my Tongue bristles revolt in a denying shame With every blow these candles remind me there is no light beyond my blood vessels. With every present i see this new shirt mocking me: saying "made in China" While the face I wear says "Made by Rape" Yes I'm a sinful piece of clay carved from multiple thrusts of ruthless lust, bruised thighs and screams Varnished with a bloody underwear But here I'm conscious and complete like the deed of my father himself. Dazed and perplexed by countless mirrors. I still remain my mother's bad nostalgia. A delayed trip to the abortion appointment