My Weary Child

Come to me, my weary child, and let your soul scream.

Look into the sky, peer past the boundary of this earth, and shatter.

And so you discover that, buried in anguish, what appeared broken never was.

And so you discover that, buried in yearning, you are achingly, horribly human.

You stain the world behind you with your own blood, yet you refuse acknowledge your essence.

Life.

Come to me, my weary child, and collapse into my lap.

The reality of your becoming is an imposed prison.

May you finally be free, my dear child.

Sob, scream, and roar.