---

Slipping into what seeps into me;
A cognition born of aesthetic.
Slowly sickening beneath the stench of flesh,
I have turned to the pure synthetic.

I embrace this new existence,
Leaving my identity torn.
I was born without a choice,
But through this choice, I am reborn.

Put on my gloves.

Converge, assimilate.
Emerge reincarnate.
I am made better as I change
To become what I admire.
Disown anatomy.
Dethrone “reality.”
I am made better as I change.
I’ll throw it all away.

Becoming one with the woven darkness,
A second skin, as I shed the first.
I reject what has been thrust upon me,
This vessel soon to harbour my rebirth.

The tension rises, overrides us,
And we’re ready to blow.
Embrace the burn and pretty soon,
You won’t feel pain anymore.
It’s moving fast, we won’t outlast,
But we can do it again.
So, leave your worries
At the door and just breathe.

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