Clawing at my eyes with finger nails that have already collected fleas that is not mine,
Attempting to rid myself of that which has betrayed my sense of self,
Beckoning that which has twisted my already disconnected mind into a tighter ball,
A feel the knife cut into my feet as I balance on this razors edge,
Struggling to find a definitive place in this world to call mine,
While this voice inside me that grows louder all the time,
Promises a becoming that I cannot fathom,
Even as I write into existence it’s every move…
