Birthday Boy

I googled mapped the search for my father using these birthmarks embroidered on my skin as coordinates
Following the footsteps of every cell and atom that holds me like a unfinished puzzle piece
waiting to be solved with warmth and lessons on how to tie a tie
Winding in the endless maze of my fingerprints
But All I have found
Are birthday cakes marked as sweet eulogies for my mom's virginity
Leaving a bitter sweet taste
As my Tongue bristles revolt in a denying shame
With every blow these candles remind me there is no light beyond my blood vessels.
With every present i see this new shirt mocking me: saying "made in China"
While the face I wear says
"Made by Rape"
Yes
I'm a sinful piece of clay
carved from multiple thrusts of ruthless lust,
bruised thighs and screams
Varnished with a bloody underwear

But here I'm conscious and complete like the deed of my father himself.
Dazed and perplexed by countless mirrors.
I still remain my mother's bad nostalgia.
A delayed trip to the abortion appointment

This poem is about: 
My family

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