Oh god, I’m reverting.

A mitosis mutation in halves,
I’m a two headed calf,
A fig tree that never bares fruit-
Too short at the roots,
Torn up, shredded, and dumped at the base
Of produce growing in a brighter place.

I am an albino corn snake-
There’s never shelter for skin so pink
When you live in the fiery-golden chaparral.

A genetic anomaly,
I was meant to die at birth.

Little lungs ran late
By the stop-watch of a mother
Silver-lined, with a great
Heart beating strong enough to start another,
Strong enough to burst a seed into a sapling
That should grow gently into the sun,
Should spread its branches open to everything
And lend a home to everyone.

But I have split my finger nails
Digging into earth’s entrails
To try to hide
Like a worm, slithering through dirt
Digesting everything on my way under,
And leaving behind something fertile,
Something that I’ll never see,
Cause I’m as blind and fruitless
As that old fig tree.

Oh god, I’m reverting-
For the heaven’s sun has set behind the bend,
And that golden angel’s floating,
So I fall back to the earth again.