I'm in anther room, my own
surgeon, slicing myself
open in search of muscles
aching with worthlessness.

I'm a soldier who missed
his homecoming, I shouldn't
be here, but anchored
to the bottom of a lake.
Choice weapon in hand,
looking to the surface
with glassy eyes.

I'm here, staring
through my feet
as they sink
further
   and further
      into the dirt.