Where were the fuses, pilot lights? Lockstep in everything but time.
You chose to burn out like a match. You don’t know why you’re different.
As when conviction meets the ground, a depth of self-inflicted doubt.
You could do anything you want. You’ve learned enough of it now.
Resist and put an end to it. Safe passage for your whole intent.
Cut words out from the mouths of men. Consume and live again.
Deep in your anguished molten core you stare and stare some more.
You see the world refracted back. It looks like nothing real.