Let me out. I want to come out.

I’m kicking and fighting yet you only giggle in anticipation of me.

I didn’t ask to be created inside you.

There’s a darkness inside you - in here with me. Your demons terrify me. They will only grow darker as you live.

Let me out.

The hardest part about being inside is that the darkness you possess can’t touch me yet.

Because once I get out there, I want want to acknowledge it, but, I didn’t escape by being born.

I won’t want to admit it, but I will spend so much of my life running away from the things that make me alike to you.

Until I run out of corners in which to cower.

Until there are no more blankets to pull over me.

Until it all catches up.

The sins of the monster will haunt mercilessly.

The disease already inflicting infection.

I can’t change my DNA sequences and erase you from my genome.

I can’t change my biology.

You are creating me; you are why I am created.

This I can not change.

I won’t realize I’m an earthly mistake until I am out there.

You can lie to me out there, but not when I am in here.

In here, I experience your thoughts as breath.

You embed your hidden disdain into every cell of mine.

This is how you really feel.

I feel the burn of your fear while we are tethered.

It will burn in me when I am out there someday.

I sit in here, limbs forming, body parts benign designed just for me.

If only I knew I would someday use all that you created to abolish you from my world.