Use and Abuse

I am no child

I am an investment.

I am no human

I am a number.

There is no love

Only obligation.

And beauty

  is but a broken compass of the heart.


Then why is it that I gravitate towards strangers like a curious infant?

Could it be that I have no soul?

That my chemicals of chemicals

  long to return to the star they called home?

The atoms that I identify as




Wish to kill me and become great and useless

  as before in the gracious past?

That in a stranger's eye

  I feel myself?


Oh, how I wish to be useless.

For there, I shall find greatness.


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