marci

Stella

“STELLA” her pod proclaimed

and therein lay her still form

beating, beating, beating, her heart exclaimed 

her shell, gooey and warm

 

her arms clasped her form

tightly upon her wet skin

her blush still, unlike her flame

no one knew her thoughts within.

 

her ears, red to the brim

as her danced her fingers across his skin

her heart sang like a hymn

her body, close to his, wanted his sin

 

”you’re better off in your shell,” they say

with a cord coming from her soft gut

”it’s cold out here”,” they display

but there’s nothing more she wants than to be cut

 

her body moves lightly

as she dances to the beat

her face, now refined, is so sightly

 her childhood, soon to be complete

 

but, alas, she is stuck

trapped by the men in white

in this pod that is nothing but bad luck

\'Today,’ she says, ‘I will see the light’

 

“Please, Stella, please stay!”

she steels herself, as she prepares her flight

”stay in your warm, warm pod,” they say

’No,’ she thinks, ‘I will leave tonight!’

 

her sticky arm reaches for her shell

as she pushes, pushes, and shoves

and finally, breaks free of her cell

her own fluids cling to her like gloves

 

the air craddled her newborn skin

the warmth of the air huddled her close

her brand new breathes start to begin

as she began her new dose

 

the drug that keeps on giving 

her finger darted to trace her first word, her only strife

the one thing she had been missing

“ L I F E “