Emotional assimilation (is) trauma’s worn, scar-tissued skin, seared by state-sanctioned aspirations. Underneath my will to live clings tight my will to die, the silent secret of my strength is all the shame I’ve centralized. And all the people I see whose suffering’s steeped in dreams of nothing when their eyes close to sleep don’t see the void that they meet as so much more comforting. I dream of nothing when I close my eyes to sleep. Each day awake just lies in wait to shape clean breaks away, in vain, from daily debasement. Engage the escapist, unendingly inaccessible until ingratiated. I dream of nothing but ending my self-defeat. Apparently, my revealings of my injuries are just my manipulative tendency! And these techniques spoken to me about responsibility and integrity are just suffocating, placating sayings placed to efface me, but I was taken through the threshold by the tension I espoused, fitted for full integration into a burning house.

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