Sometimes,
I feel like crawling out of me
With the tiny little legs
of my tired darkened soul.

I feel like crawling out of me
through the sockets of my eyes
and my tiny mouth hole
and free my tired soul.
I feel like tearing through my skin
and burning through my bones
I wanna burn like acid
and free my flaccid soul.

But I am what I am,
I’m a flaccid little soul
and what wants to burn through
is my weary chaos old.

Between what burns through
and what else there remains
I remain torn
not knowing what I am
Am I what burns through,
or Am I what remains?
And where do I remain
when I remain no more?

I do not remain if some of me remains
None of me remains if I alone remain.

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