Perfectly, it understands me
This hollow tube of thought
Has gone weary of working for so long
Like a child forced into labour
Barely conscious
Indefinite and uncertain
Of this place.
I don’t think you could even call it that
This strange, strange thing
Taking a slow toll on me
Brainwash and surgically mutilating
My insides, manipulating my organs
Tearing me from limb to limb
Until I am completely silenced
Unable to utter a word.
Blank, over and over
Lost in this world of mine
Difficulty placed on empathising
With not theirs, but my own
For what else can I say?
Other than I am nothing,
Nothing but I am,
I am definitely my own.
Completely faded away
Like a stain on a well washed cloth
The traces are still there
Hard to see but they’re still there
And I’ll forever weep for them
For it is they who need mourning
Not this hollow tube
Of what was once a human being.
