this is flesh, unbending.
un breaking, and unwilling to shift.
this is broken bones denying their own
existance. this is the lack of emotion
so prevalent in nearly everything i feel.

yes, this is flesh. when every inward moment,
every plastic attachment that has been
glued, i'm becoming more unlike my
lost visage of self. this is just flesh.
no room for anything complete,
no room for anything painful.

i am merely a vessel used as a tool of emotion.
my body is just a place that my brain,
parasitic and demoralizing,
has latched itself onto,
abusing my appendages to the very extent
of bashing itself to seem modest.

i am merely flesh.

10/25/2003

Posted on 10/25/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams