minor consolation for this

ecstatic exsanguination of my

spirits draining feelings pain me

no place in this reality for

seeking sound advice or hopeful

treating me with anything but

scornful glances hate filled

institutional decrees that state that

I am not who I think I am I am

who I have always feared to be

a empty vessel searching for a

substance worthy of filling me

and it would take three by three

to wet the surface of my

falsities and secrets set aside

in medical supply warehouses full

of the bio-hazardous waste

I cannot hide


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