undoing being

I unscreamed my wails of life with an abrupt deafening silence as my mother unbirthed me. My unwelcomed body slid from her opening of life & retracted me into her tunnel of damp darkness that unejected me after months of unprepared readiness. Her walls unclenched me as she pushed me further down into her womanly abyss, back onto a watery bed. Her surrounding contractions receded in dull rhythms as she quietly unmoaned in pleasure or ungroaned in delight but instead huffed & puffed so miserably & with a bloated nose. My mother’s face glows unbrightly & no longer is her chest flushed when her drying breasts are cupped & squeezed or when her unerect nipples are pinched.

Our thin vessel of life ungrew longer while my body, my heart, my bones, my hair, my skin continues to untake their complete forms, shaping in reverse. God retreats his grace & unsouls me as I am severed from divinity & become a substance of organic abstract. My humanity cannot be distinguished any more. I remain unnamed. Unmultiplied molecules subside into the corners of my mother’s warm chamber. Untissued organs fade into the liquid unknown. Membranes are swept from existence with unstreamed blood. I am unembroyed as my entire being is split into an unyolked egg & an untamed, unlimbed animal. One part of me swims idly, unknowing of any proper fate, vulnerable within the edges of her secret place, while my other part, perpetually unquiet, uninvited, unprepared, unprotected. I am a mere orgasm.

Author: noramorta

For the first time after years of deliberation and procrastination, I move from the old fashioned pen and paper to display the consequences of my bad decisions, my inflated mixed emotions and my awkward findings on life.

2 thoughts on “undoing being”

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