There are no recollections as to this way of life
When it first started, when the knife started to
Cut away alabaster skin and indent tattoos in the
Shape of crescented scars, I only get so far before
The hooks reel me back in to this torturous existence
And my mouth is spilling with promises that there is
A fix to this, yet no one ever asks if I want it, the opiates
And bulked up capsules of mind numbing quality because
I’ve drawn up the probability of happiness and the equation
Is always a little skewed to the side, and not mine, never mine
And never mind the hundreds of nights chained to the cellar
Injections of serums deemed better than the previous batch
The only sunlight are the glimpses from the latch when they
Open the door for the evening meals and perfectly scores
Are noted, before the blackness swallows me whole and I
Adore this silence, the lack of brightness of the interrogation
Lamp, the beams in my eyes blinding me, making believe this
Life isn’t going to last, but there is no end in sight, and I want
To give up the fight and sleep for a while, so they tape my eyelids
In place and I brace myself for the next wave of pain, the videotapes
Of everyone I know with smiles on their faces, living, loving, encountering
Spaces they have never been before, places I’ll never see, this rotting wooden
Floor is my sanctuary, the only realm where I feel safe, away from the rest
Of the human race yet jealousy remains in my veins, pumping angrily at
These images, and I am filled with hate for circumstance, but if they
Asked me if I wanted to be free, I’d refuse because it would only be
A matter of weeks before the scent of chloroform is on my hands
I’m smart enough to know that nothing ever goes according to plan


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