I am
An open book
Made up of the ashes
Of fantastic people and books
Of miraculous animals and fantastical structures
Of civilizations grander than I could ever conceive
Civilizations burned down specifically
To create the pages
That I am
"Buy a building to burn, sirs!
Triple your investment when we build this child!"
They wasted a **** good concept on me
And I didn't fail
To let them down

That's right, I came from ashes
But I'm nowhere near a Phoenix
Cut me and I'll bleed
The ceremonial color of a man
Whose last will and testament
Is that no one he knows will see him
Cry so hard and so long
That the dying is over long before
The tears are through
And when the blood and tears mingle
Sense is lost
Because Spielberg's AI was not that sad
And no one understands why
Okay?
Okay.
Hits me the way it does

They used to say that illness sprang
From bad blood
I know inside I'm terrible
And maybe that's why I love
Donating blood
That on a deep subconscious level
I try to purge my impurities
Through my borderline masochism
A vampire girlfriend would suit me just fine
I think to myself
And I pump in the sleeve
Take from the vein all you desire
And my eyes roll back
What a ******* ******

"Don't judge me" I tell them
Half-joking
So the sincerity in the concern is mistaken
For a good leg-pulling
I am aware and scared of what people think
In a secret sort of way
The kind that's alright as long as
No one knows
Because when they know
They'll control you
And you, helpless to your worry
Will stress and believe everything
"I don't want to be hated"
Be non-committal
See both sides
Don't vote for anyone, tell them you have to go
Take a stand, *******
I am a spineless *******
Who is trying so hard to grow a spine
You can be emotional and have a spine
But some days I would rather just have a spine
And the will to speak

Arrogance is a virtue
According to my mind
It compensates feelings of intense insecurity
With bouts of arrogance
Founded in the juvenile feeling of
"Everyone *****! I'm the best!"
Which is only thinly veiling
"Why the **** do I continue to be a waste
Of oxygen and space? This is what my shoelaces
Are for. . ."
But I don't want to be left hanging in the wind
Feet kicking off the chains of mortality
And accepting the un-existence
Of my destined oblivion

I am
A self-fulfilling prophecy
Written on the charred bones
Of civilizations grander than I could ever conceive
"He will grow until he doesn't
Live until he doesn't
Think until he doesn't
And when the stars are aligned
In the perfect triangle
He will exist as an entity
Until he doesn't"
I cannot escape this fate
But I can ease my mind from
The horrors of pre-destination
By being defiant
And every once in a while
Live even when I don't
Think and exist and grow
All while not doing any of them
I will do what cannot be done
Because my life deserves the illusion
Of control