Walls on Moons

I didn't grow up here. 

Mamas' head was my hometown.

Where the government put chips in ears. 

Where radio static whispered secrets,

mirrors were telescreens,

and someone was always out to kill you.

I was raised with Voodoo dolls 

and lamb blood offerings..

I slept with bird carcasses;

Giving up my woman hood to shadows.

A prayer upon my lips to a God I didn't know.

I was natural blue and purple.

Bleach rags wipping off my black.

I had ghost enemies.

Guns shoved down my throat.

Butterflies kissing innocent things.

Stellito shaped wounds

and cigratte burns.

Water was purfication. 

Mama wanted pure children; head deep.

A unholy war was upon her head. 

She fought demons,

and rebuked angels.

I grew up far from here. 

My very own wonderland.