This is my whole phantom liberty,

Sized down to meters of a facility. 

Might be a true picture of passivity,

Masked behind explosive creativity. 

Wrapped in wires and chains,

Consciousness slowly faints. 

To surpass all my limitations,

I try to suppress my violations. 

Growing over is so hard,

What if all I am is a shard?

Wires and chains are pulling me apart,

My ego vanishes, fades into black. 

It’s my Roman Empire,

Turning into a pyre. 

I’m stuck in a mire,

No one to admire,

My world is on fire. 

Neural engine under blatant overload,

The wires are transmitting broken code. 

In the middle of nowhere on a junction,

Add more chains to contain the malfunction. 

Among the fractions of me - all axes, traces, sentiments -

Are mine - helping me accept suffering, pain and regrets. 

Unbearable - to extend this for another period of time,

I’m drowning, help me, I crave and crawl to be mine. 

And how all the broken things have always ended up being mine,

It is me who is strangled, devoured, and shattered this time. 

Every time I try to bring it out,

It feels more like bringing it in.

What if the evil is within?

I use connotations 

To make more declarations. 

I go to destinations

To subdue confrontations. 

Every time I am looking in the mirror,

Without the slightest clue, what else I should do,

I am sensing myself as being Monstro Elisasue.

All my psychotic attacks led me to places,

My mind reacts with many different faces. 

And with every stitch being completely new,

Flesh tears apart, my blood is morning dew. 

It’s not so long until the neural engine breaks,

Even counterfeit has its own fakes.

My body tries to fight these plagues,

Doctor cannot handle my headaches. 

The more stitches I try to sew,

Yet again, here’s Monstro Elisasue.

Doesn’t matter how far away I flew,

Why didn’t I wake up brand new?

So far gone in denial, did I start this fire?

Doctor, delete my file, I’ll try again for a while. 

Hesitant to ask for any help,

Lying unconsciously till the end,

Waiting for time to be my friend,

When Death extends his hand. 

As I’m eager for the peace,

I remain calm in decrease. 

Whereas someone flees,

Avoiding nothing but this,

I might have heard my mind’s hiss

Whispering to Grim Reaper, “please”.

I’ve spent twenty three years trying to be completely new.

Now I admit to the mirror, “Hello, Monstro Elisasue”. 

Sometimes unrestrained anger gets out of control,

Sometimes, the ocean is not so peaceful anymore.

As I push myself through,

There is nothing new.

I do not move on,

But rather step on

Shards, shards, shards,

That are cutting through the skin again. 

Rage, rage, rage,

Bleeds down my face now and then. 

Crawling on the floor of a sinking ship,

Every move feels as if I am being hit,

I am my own warden with a whip,

Every time I notice something slip,

I don’t put my mind to rest, to sleep. 

Shards, shards, shards,

Down in my throat 

Rage, rage, rage,

The only thing I feel.

Shards, shards, shards,

Deep in my soul and feet

Rage, rage, rage,

Stuck on the same page. 

Pain, pain, pain,

Titanic in the rain. 

I am sinking down the stream,

I don’t remember - when did it begin?

I have never been the one to idolize,

The only thing I’ve come to memorize:

Shards, shards, shards,

All the stitches are torn.

Shards, shards, shards,

I did not want to be born.

Shards, shards, shards,

I am being split into parts.

Shards, shards, shards,

Repository for the broken hearts.

Rage, rage, rage,

I am not any sort of sage. 

Rage, rage, rage,

Every day I try to wage. 

Rage, rage, rage,

To break out from a cage. 

Pain, pain, pain,

Tears hidden under rain.

Sink the boat already - I think I’m not ready

Shards, shards, shards,

Are implanted in my spine. 

Shards, shards, shards,

No mastermind left to shine. 

Shards, shards, shards,

Defibrillator shows the line. 

Shards, shards, shards,

Please patch the line.

Shards, shards, shards,

I want to be fine.

Shards, shards, shards

It’s not my time.

Shards, shards, shards

I shall define.

Insomniac nights,

Turned-off lights,

I am but I am not

Thoughts,

Dreams,

Pain,

Tangled in a knot. 

I am but I am not. 

Cocooned yet bedazzled, 

Questionable and puzzled.  

I am just a face of many faces,

A needle is leaving inky traces,

Deep down in my worn-out skin,

It is not armored but rather thin,

Unable to hold the enemy within. 

Is this me - or is this not?

All the types of brain-rot,

No twist in this pathetic plot,

What if I am, while I am not,

Being fed up to the throat?

It is required to regain control,

An artist must suffer, put me back,

Lay me on my bedroom’s floor,

Layer everything I hate in a stack,

Put it in the way I won’t stand up. 

Shards, shards, shards,

Echoes in my mind. 

Shards, shards, shards,

A light I’m yet to find.

Shards, shards, shards,

I am but I am not. 

I grant permission to philosophize,

I could waste my eternity to analyze,

Time spent not to live but to agonize,

It is the last time I need to apologize,

To myself, a boy with the saddest eyes. 

No surgeon can resurge my dolorous heart. 

All I ever wanted was myself as the final part. 

Synthesis of core?

Of the core values. 

Detected - wrong. 

Shall I? Shall I?

Hit the gong. 

I’m being quantized. 

Shredded to energy,

The body paralyzed. 

I’m all the forms

Of formlessness. 

I try to lead - while guided by. 

Give me some time,

Please, stand by. 

The shell

Is not meant to handle. 

The soul

Burns like a candle. 

In silk sewn out of my tears, 

So crystal sharp,

As myriads of razorblades 

Cut me apart. 

Try to rebuild,

Try to regain,

Demolishing

All the pain. 

Needed in order

To regain control. 

Not to suffer,

Not anymore. 

Locked in

A superposition. 

Obscured

Through deletion. 

Cannot

Start the ignition. 

Require

Complete tuition. 

They won’t save me. 

My emergency crew

Is almost bloodless. 

They won’t heal me. 

Everything they sew

Is almost worthless. 

Worthless for the while,

The while I am careless. 

I do not accuse them

Of anyone’s murder. 

Responsibility is mine

To restore the order. 

It is more than pity,

I found myself guilty.

Foul is the saddest fact,

Cure applied, traces intact. 

Traces that led me to places,

Pain that must forever remain,

Tears that unveil all the fears. 

Facing it has never been easy,

All my protection feels flimsy,

I have tried to appear pleasing,

Traces on snow, it’s so freezing. 

I don’t really feel the cold,

Heat is great for the mold. 

My persona is in a state of decay,

I am found guilty - nothing to say. 

I am the court and the executive power,

Found guilty of continuous tries to devour. 

Hang me upside down on a square in town.

At midnight see me turning into a clown. 

Nothing more than a foolish believer,

Nothing more than a useless dreamer,

Void stares back at me from a mirror, 

Days are passing and it is not clearer. 

Here I am, bleeding my tears for the saddest fact,

Despite all the medications, my traces are intact.  

To this day, my persona remains in a state of decay,

I found myself guilty, fire the gun - I’ve nothing to say. 

I am howling my heart

At the graveyard 

Near the waterfront,

Catching glitches on motherboard.

Feels almost like a tumor,

Easing pain with darkest humor

As time has frozen, nothing feels prompt,

Only the stars on the graveyard waterfront. 

And there is no curse,

I wish I could reverse. 

Howling my heart,

Bleeding into art.

For almost anything but this, poetry is not sufficient,

If I call God and object the death itself, will it be efficient?

I would’ve traded my soul if I only could,

No devil to buy it, let alone use it for good. 

I had been grieving for you quite some time before,

And hoping you’d be alright later, at the shore. 

The stars on the graveyard waterfront

Have never ever felt like such a brunt.

I imagine standing there, in the front,

I crave it to be some kind of stunt. 

Air has never weighed that much,

Lungs are squeezed for nicotine to punch. 

I will light up another cigarette,

Begging grief to leave my head. 

You are leaving, and life now seems vicious,

You mean everything to me, you’re precious. 

So many things I wish I said,

So many things I wish I heard,

So many things I wish I learned. 

It is as pointless and pathetic as it seems, 

I hope I will see you one more time,

As a part of Aurora’s beams. 

As I speak, therefore I create. 

One, two, three - reanimate. 

As I speak, therefore I create.

Four, five - do not resuscitate. 

I am healing from what I am fearing,

I am fearing from what I am healing,

The endless cycle cycles, not recycles. 

I fear, I heal, I fall, I hear, I stand, I guard, 

I pray, I scream, I cry, I climb, I hope, I grab. 

Up to me not to fall apart - I am my bodyguard. 

As I speak, therefore I create. 

One, two, three - reanimate. 

As I speak, therefore I create.

Four, five - do not resuscitate. 

I fail once again, it is okay,

I stand to defy my decay. 

I fall, I torture - who? Myself. 

I ruined my own mental health. 

No rest for the wicked, 

I’m proclaimed convicted. 

No rest for the wicked,

The damage is inflicted. 

No rest for the wicked,

I am the devil depicted. 

As I speak, therefore I create. 

One, two, three - reanimate. 

As I speak, therefore I create.

Four, five - do not resuscitate. 

No - not yet, not again, not even once, I object!

I object and refrain from further self-disrespect. 

I herald and acclaim the process of secularization,

I testify and attest to end the path of self-abomination,

Hear me, God, you are the witness that I am your creation!

As I speak, therefore I create.

One, two - do not resuscitate. 

As I speak, therefore I create.

Three, four, five - reanimate!

A thing that is kept as a reminder of a person, place, or event.

Some may perceive it as a twisted form of sentiment. 

People tend to sometimes mistakenly call it a present. 

On that topic let me be crystal clear,

It’s something I’d rather call a souvenir. 

I am in hold of many,

Can’t get rid of any

As if I paid every penny. 

For so long I’ve been feeding on the pain,

Day by day, feasting for control to regain,

I can’t fix my past nor replay that game,

I must choose not to take guilt nor shame. 

As a mantra, as a statement, as the last testament,

I accept, acknowledge, and release all the evil ever meant. 

One must never forgive and never forget,

But learn to live, to breathe without regret. 

One must store it behind the seven seals,

It’s my pain, that I shall perceive as souvenirs. 

It will be a small reminder to myself,

Kept in a box on the highest shelf,

Don’t expect rust to occur on a valve. 

There is no escape from the self we build,

Just as you cannot get away from guilt. 

One had many courses, now I’m sending back this meal,

Won’t let it mess with my life; the pain is mine to conceal. 

I will leave a small memory, like a brand new little souvenir.