I know who I am.
I don’t need your label.
I don’t need your words.
I have my own.
Your voice like stones,
I can feel my bones wither.
You have nothing left so away you slither.
My reality is not lost,
I am only free.
Passed are the feelings abased;
I am freer than such a measly flea.
My skin freshly pierced,
I have felt pain that which you know no name.
Returned am I.
Reborn am I.
Lasting through the past that left me to cry.
A past where I would rather die.
Your stones may have sunk my body that was something more of a pseudonym
but my dear,
I’ve always known how to swim.