You couldn’t be born,
Angels wanted you back
the minute you were conceived in your mother’s womb.
With your leaving,
A part of their own selves left.
They could not bear a disintegration that huge.
Were born and lived.
You lived with part of you always hanging
in between old serenity and young despair.
The roof of your existence was dented,
The apparition of a rainbow leading you to the beyond.
You always knew,
They were all living below you.
This repugnant conceit you were born with.
Day and night on end.