Raising Mommy

Faith stripping me of my innocence

An irreversible fear played heavily in the way I had lived since.

Fear of not knowing what to be afraid of.

Evident beauty not only in me, but in the way she yearned to be free.

However, it all gave way to my pain.

While we debated on whose mommy was prettier, no one could beat mine as the craziest.

And even then, vivid dreams of her beauty and insanity took the front running position on every list.

While my breath learned to expel at the pace of the worlds',

She neglected to tell me that I no longer had her,

And woe is me that I might live without being birthed,

but even Jesus being born of a whore Knew his own worth.