Is this what I've become?
This twisted thing in prison,
shackled to a leather chair and a computer
typing out god knows what
at 2:44 in the morning?

Is this really what I am?
This child weeping in a corner
pretending to be a man
screaming at shadows
and bleeding nothing but sand?

No.

I am not an animal in a cage,
and I am not an empty shell
scouring the world in search
of other souls to fill some hell.