Sixteen and jaded,
my entity is a number,
this ignorance twists my stomach into knots.
Grey eyes and fading,
the true color I've forgot,
this exodus of passion - a figurative bullet and wound,
the wraith screaming headshot.

I've got some problems, you can
even see the bloodclots, disgracing
my skin as if it were criminal. I fear
not the powers, every human has their
own pull. I fear the ending, these pages unraveling
like a finely executed plot.

Call the doctor, I've a disease he
must diagnose. They say it's called
sanity - I wonder if they even know.
Now inject the needle, I need immunity
from exposing society, make me average;
anxiety of standards - I am alone.