I drag this weight,
 each step a crime against the ground.

Am I a ghost,

too solid to slip away,

or an animal,
 broken, bent,
 flesh tight with the burden of living?

I cannot call myself human—

humans ache with love,

but I am jagged,
 a wound that won't heal.

Too wild to tame,

too hollow to be held.

Time to vanish—

to dissolve into night,

my absence felt by none.