To the second woman inside of me, to the cynic who rewrites my thoughts, to the ventriloquist whose strings have had my limbs at their mercy for months, to the voices who speak to me reminding me that I am human, I falter and function as a human, to the incision at my wrist that is letting sewage, dust and cancer into circulation;
I created you
I succumbed to you
But I am not you
And until every bit of me works with the same labor as my heart
And delights in doing so
You may find a new home
I cannot cave
For any farther gone I get
Will be crossing the wire
I'd be forced to cut it
To put it to death
If it is within my control
I cannot let something so evil live
And you will not
And if you do
I will not
But I am alive
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