Mutated Mind.

My emotions, twirling and swirling within me. I am like a DNA structure. A double helix, almost a double life. This dna wasn't supposed to be formed, or be born. Its like a mutation. These feelings are like mutations. I'll have to nurture this vulnerable and pitiable gamete.

I've seen my whisper become louder each day cause its draws a picture. A picture I cannot differentiate from. But I had my plan mapped out. I knew where X marked the spot. I was my own light. Soon I became too embarked on my journey that I forgot my means of travel. I lost it. I lost that road I had once mapped out. I lost it.

...So, this mutation, had wrapped itself around me. Made me the mother of its birth. It had multiple fathers. Fathers of creation, I was sure I couldn't have made this baby -this mutated baby- alone.

I had made a child I could barely nurture. I had formed a baby. A baby that grew to its natural beauty, away from its start of creation....to stand for liberation, yes that baby was mine. I had made history. Maybe I should feel proud that it absorbed multiple insults and stares that it created its own ...human ? Baby ? No. Personality. A personality so outgrown. It didn't form no bitch tendencies. No, no. This was maybe beautiful.

Like a baby, it was born vulnerable and terrified of stampedes of unfamiliar faces. Like a toddler it got out of hand. Like a teenager, it was ready to find itself and heal its scars. Like an adult, it faced the world. Tears or no tears, it was a mind of the oppressed.