Empty Cribs

I wanted children you wanted them not, I wanted laughter you wanted incedious rot the rot..... of the folded flesh of broken curves... Until you made my body a jest. I.... I wanted to weive dresses, and grow some eyes, mend the cloth and mend the skies. And yet.... you kept weiving nightmares. Nights after nights.... did you have no care who lives, and who dies? When my child.... when my child died, I cried. After I murdered you.... I only sighed.