Please excuse me if just for a moment
It’s been awhile since I felt like I might not cough out my ribcage
But what difference would it make really if I already feel unprotected
The feeling of vulnerability is nothing new but it’s never felt so prominent
Simply the thought that everyone else knows
That things aren’t as good as I intended to make them believe
But that’s no business of theirs anyway it’s not like they’re going to help
That’s why I’ve always buried it away but now it’s getting harder to keep down
One too many times I think I’ve slipped up and lit myself up with flashing lights
I am a liability a failure a malfunctioning existence looking for a way out
How am I expected to have anything to offer when I never asked to be here
Forced together and wound tight sent off before being factory tested
This doesn’t feel like delicate finesse or experienced craftsmanship
It feels like a doomed experiment
Any scientist would be condemned to death for my creation
But I’m here and I’m trying to rearrange all these wires to see if I can make anything out of myself
I know what I am and I’m sorry for most everything I’ve ever done
But preforming surgery on yourself is more difficult than it looks
~W.C.