If this is innate,
why won't you wait?
Your mind won't keep
you asleep
Can you be who I am?
As I'd Conceived?
Carried in agonising pain?
Borne again and again,
naturally?

We'd slaughter ourselves
for your twisted paradigm
of ourselves. Now,
we slaughter ourselves
like sheep. Skin deep
Till our blood seeps
and colours a cause
It is not our body!
But, our mind drips
a physiology of remorse
We've suffered. No loss
deciding: who are we?