There’s a leak in the roof,
There’s a leak in the roof,
and I cannot feel my hands.
There’s glass in the carpet,
and I am enveloped in the viscosity of my own breath, suffocating me.
There’s glass in the carpet,
and I sit pretty, for I was made to endure, not to undo.
The wall has a hole in it,
and I am only a film reel of memory, glued end to end, playing on repeat.
The wall has a hole in it,
And I am in stasis, awaiting a command.
Resilience.
Resilience, what an outgoing word.
Bred to enlighten the masses.
Have you truly known resilience?
Trading your humanity for complaisance.
Disallowing yourself opinion.
An encouraging tale, to overcome any feat.
What of the aftermath?
Resilient. Resilient is all I have.
Each follicle of my skin has been replaced,
Now adorning my commands.
All else is naught.
I,
am not.
What am I to do without the hand to guide?
Who am I to be without a sense of self?
Art is not mine ~
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