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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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I scream, I yell
to this semen in my interior the one looking for a childhood it haunts me further and throws me into a burden of fear for I myself am a child burning womanhood in my own space As my bohemian way smears I become a withered flower finished I refuse a miracle not a banal event a dirty trick this power on life with guilt the price I scream, I yell I unleash in mist this irrevocable suffering result of an insanity and I chain myself with this ultimate choice me or the child Copyright ©2006 Johanne Farmer
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