Being Born

Fresh bodied,
bloody with the broken light,
we emerge
drenched in life.
Seeing the world through
peeled eyes.
Despair and euphoria
vised to our throats,
the skin stripped back,
our most beautiful breath
drained out.
The light dancing
to the beat of my pulse,
swimming in the blackness
of my eyelids.
The hot air under the duvet,
washing my skin.
Every morning
we are born
to the rich raw
breaking of the day,
splitting open and spilling out
into this world.
There is no kindness
in the sting of this slap,
only the truth
of being alive.
But I can hide
in the darkness
of blurring blood, black and white,
Until the moss green Hazel trees
betray me
and my eyes flicker open.
Life is so full of living,
it’s killing.

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