the strings that attach my soul together
into some semblance of sanity
were wrenched right out of me
right through the holes I already carried
in the walls of my heart
and past the puncture wounds i left on my arms
i'm only a corpse now
my voice comes back to me in screams
and I'm afraid it'll be scratchy
forever, whatever that means [1]
my life is floating around me in pieces
that i can only imitate
when i pretend to my family that i'm alive
or that I want to be
but how were you going to
communicate hope to the corpse
i'm only broken words now
so why does it still hurt?
if i was drowning before,
today took any gold that was left from my shipwreck
and made sure to clear the remnants of Atlantis
so that a myth couldn't get any ideas in my head
each monster i read about growing up,
i recognise now
even if it was only to give a face to this,
a direction to run from
so I wouldn't admit
that everywhere was unsafe
and I could pretend i wasn't allowed there
instead of fighting for my life
in that goddamn colloseum
and no one sees a worthy battle
i lose before I even bleed out
a crowd of strangers can see my achilles heel
but they don't get why the rest of me isn't powerful
so they take away my second chances
and hope the animal they choose to replace me
has more of a fighting spirit.