I should be working
but people just do nothing
and let those perfect moments slip

away. I can't reconcile how far I seem
to stand apart from people, people I like.
I fear I've always been so removed.
From a young age I had such difficulty
losing myself. How much I value being
lost, I see it in my earlier writings,
The praise I give to the ventures
which took me to dark places,
All-the-better to find oneself.
"What does not **** me,
Makes me stronger."
Thus spoke Apotheos
who I once praised
in the maze that is
The Apotheon, a place
at the heart of apotheosis.

This was before I gave up
on life. Sometime
long ago.


Whatever
is a human?