Everything disintegrates.
One realization leads to another epiphany.

Where I had once assumed my world lied,
Now my thoughts lie,

but I don't cry.
No longer do I cry.

None left to defy,
And no wings left to fly,

Once again, I've become who I hate,
What I hate.

When I am discontent with my presentation,
  when I am all that was left for me to become,
  am I resurrected,
  or more likely insurrected,
  stronger, wiser, sexier, more of a gorgeous reality.

I am a winner.
I won that last game;
  that last identity beaten,
  my person is lying on the floor,
  but my soul is not defeaten.