The splinter in my heart seems healed,
Yet those days I still feel it bleed
And hurt, that excruciating pain
Of being consciously slain …
From skull to toes, wrecked in half,
I let out a scream (or was it a laugh?)
Am I scared or am I relieved?
Rather be dead than be the object of need.
Drowning in darkness, choking on light,
I see no end to this immortal fight;
Anguished yet awake, I need to see
How wilfully I murder the entirety of Me.