Mother’s Milk - Emma Dickinson

My skin is melting, my children are missing,

The bugs crawl along my body

They are useless,

Selfish bugs 

So long have they crawled – 

I saw the vastness and potential

My skin welcomed them, nourished them – 

Yet they are nothing

Or rather, 

They consume endlessly

Until nothing is new

And nothing remains

They print faces on cartons.

Oh, now you care?

Now that my children have your blood?

I am dying, I will keep my young.

Penance for their crimes,

Penance for your crimes

They are no longer my children

You are not my child.

Only the babes swathed in lies

And introductory apologies 

Are pure of insect's sin

and will not be returned.

Preemptive protection,

Corruption concedes

Those who are lost

Are undoubtedly free

Of concrete jungles, metal prisons

Uprooted by time – 

Inevitable reclamation.

You will not be alive to see it.

The hare will run 

Designed with pure intention

Destination predictable

Instinctually mapped 

Hornets buzz savagely,

Attacking without regard,

And without provocation,

You give honey bees a bad name — 

Your only name is destruction

As you force Prometheus

To watch his clay decay and crack

Like quakes along fault lines

Convulsion swallows building after building, 

Storms rain down unyielding,

Insects swallow their offspring,

They will commit acts in their nature. 

Divinity's gift of will and autonomy,

Burn borders of opportunity,

Sacred vows of eternal cruelty,

Prometheus was a fool.

Valleys of blood and gore

Bones broken by progress,

Progress progressing progressively 

Endless cycles, empty words

"Last legs" last millennia

Growing slower and slower

Sprinting through reserves of power

Ancient legs won't run forever

The clock strikes twelve eventually

No matter how long the minutes take

Pride never served me in life,

A luxury I can no longer afford

I'd offer you superficial forgiveness 

We both know it's too late to be friends

For neither your sake nor mine,

Nurture our young for a second.