Mother

Shadows coming 

rumbling under clouds

Like insidious blitz artillery 

Aimed 

 at my invidious existence 

When the grief flows thick 

and razor under my skin

And I brooding

Bleed Bloody and thunder thoughts

Brewing foul teas and potions.

Looking at others happiness 

And deeply grieve 

Stewing resentment at

my loses

The big guns of envy blast

A half beating beaten heart

I Have wounded me with

Myself

The wreck of my attachment  

I must be my own surgeon 

And counsellor and priest and lover.

I Elder me myself 

I am from the  gutter

I will not surrender 

but 

Rage at the alter of a long dead god.

Rebirthed in every second 

In my breath and tears 

Every shudder and shiver 

In utter defiance 

It is in every syllable 

I utter and the silence I mother.