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Advertently A Half-Baked Human Being
Born into this next life
from the past,
I was told
I was a human.
Make sense, the birth-
mark on my right
arm hints to me like
a treasure map.
Well at least
that’s what my nurse
friend believes
so
I asked God,
creation is your specialty,
but how come a chimera looks
more complete than me?
The skies and earth look
dearly to you, perfection in every
life even now despite
my uncanny appearance.
I look into the mirror and recite
my half-
hearted
prayer,
“Our Father which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.”
I grasp the word
to not forget yet I slip
through the gaps
looking up.
I take form of my unspoken
thoughts and stare
into that mirror and ask,
What is the purpose
of my existence?
I see a maggot before
its cycle as incomplete
nature come to face
the next stage,
“Metamorphosis”
I was told I was a human,
yet the devil grew
horns thus the mirror
image from before begins
to confirm my true
nature as metamorphosis
indistinctly mutates.
My favorite series has turned
into my reality,
“Jungle Juice”
the more compatible
I am to a bug,
the more I physically
look alike I become,
was I ever human?
Quasimodo isn’t alone
anymore, we are
two of a kind.
Copyright ©
Diana Morales
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