I was born flesh and blood,
dreaming of an iron mind.

My mistakes stick to me like mud,
forcing my actions and making them unkind.

To heal is to forget,
to forget is to forgive.

To forgive would mean no regret,
yet I find myself unable to to live.

Although I force my mind empty,
these thoughts are only a symptom of what makes me unwhole.

I struggle to identify what sent me,
to these depths that take their toll.

Why do I do what I do?
The actions I take are killing me,
that I know, that I understand.

Fire and ash surround myself,
my blood runs cold as my heart pumps ice through my veins.
These words being me no wealth,
they bring little comfort to my pains.

I wish I didn’t care that I want to know,
I don’t understand why I do.
I struggle against my way,
and seek peace any chance I may.

No one cares. No one is there.

What am I looking for?
What am I searching for?
What do I want for?

A question brings more questions,
they swarm my mind like flies over a plagued corpse.

To forgive would mean no regret, but I digress that these thoughts find no egress.

I think, I struggle, I sink and I fumble.

I am growing and changing, and that makes me the most afraid.

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