I always feel like I am drowning.
Like I am struggling to breathe.

And I know that it is you
that has a hand around my neck.

I'm not dead yet, but I can already
feel the fire licking at my feet.

I will not let it take me.
You will never see me on my knees.

I will swallow down the bitter fire you throw
And spit out the blood.

Until I bite down and feel
my teeth cut through the rot

of your artificially pure wings.
And that is how I know I've won.