Trifled Ambiguity

I am an unlikeable,
grotesque creature
whose skin is lined with layers
of flaked filth, rotted vernix caseosa
sprawled on damp sheets,
once pubescent snowlike now
transitioned
to grime-riddled ringlets, 
swarmed with tapered-edged maggots,
my fingertips slip against this putrid flesh,

my mind's elastic stretches and pulls,
taunt as a noose
just about to--

I hear my mother. 
all she suffered
as I bathed in amniotic fluid,
her veins, now mine.
Her labor is not barren.