Born ****** and confused,
Cradled near our mother, fused
By cords of love to replace
The cords the midwife cut.
Growing curious with the years,
We stumble, fall, and scream; tears
Of rage our parents see
As rage of vitriolic ease.
Bony pains in skin too thin
For our shuddered growth; our skin
Elastic tortured thus
Erupts in meteoric fuss.
Hormonal sin of endless flesh
Writhes wicked, silken; her dress
A gauzy show of mental glimpses,
Caught in thought, like kisses.
We reach an end to just begin,
The wall they built was far too thin
To stop us in our desperate race
To join the rats within their chase.
Now we're there, we would return
To wicked thoughts, how they burn,
But less than pain that we now feel
As adults in our ordeal.