e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

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The hypersensitive child

I hear the mumbles and whispers 
I hear you say I am a broken fry
And I am weird when I laugh or cry
I know you know where babies come from
And imprints shouldn't be abnormally formed
For me, epigenetics didn't skip a turn.

I am a crude combination
Of the worst, you can ever mention
So your assumptions are not fictions
Though, I am not meant for mockery
Neither do I expect your sorry
I am still me, not a forgery.

Can I crave your indulgence,
As I take you through my trance,
Themed, "the scary entrance" ...
Most fetus growing in the uterus
Sense their parent's splendid love,
All I sensed was a holy terror

Coming from two adults fighting.
In the bump, I was frightened
Their utterances were words too many
The pains I felt were hard to bear
I tried to run away from the fear
But each time I did, it reappeared.

I can't say who was right or wrong
Nor who first spat the bitter tongue
For they both played an unpleasant song..
In it, drowning the fragile fetus
Hence for the fear, I metamorphosed
Into shell traits that best fits us,

Just like falling objects to gravity
My weird hypersensitivity
Was expressed from such calamity.
Now tell me, to what extent
Can your words make me feel hurt
When I know the source of my defects

And tragically, nothing I can do
Especially when I was birthed so
In spite of that, to love my parents too...
Finally, I can barely seep at night
Knowing an unborn, would pick up the fright
From pregnant parents who just love to fight.

©2022 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

3 Comments

  1. thebleedingsoulpoet says:

    good

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Susi Bocks says:

    I’ve imagined that my first horrible marriage created the anxiety from which my firstborn dealt with, and my second child enjoyed being in my womb in the second marriage so that’s why he turned out so laid-back. It’s the only way I can explain the two temperaments. Good write, Vinz.

    Like

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