"I am not your son"
Then what are you, hon?
You were gone for so long
It has been two years,
since I last visited you, in that land among
the people filled with fears.
I hid my tears, when I saw you.
E and "she" were coursing through
your veins and brains. Worst than my greatest fears.
Your face, grotesque.
Your voice, straining to sound human.
It does not.
My beloved son, with a face only a mother could love.
A face that despite its newfound horror, I cannot help but love.