Gloves

Slipping into what seeps into me
A cognition born of aesthetic
Slowly sickening beneath the stench of flesh
I have turned to the pure synthetic

I embrace this new existence
Leaving my identity torn
I was born without a choice
But through this choice, I am reborn

Put on my gloves

Converge, assimilate
Emerge reincarnate
I am made better as I change
To become what I admire
Disown anatomy
Dethrone “reality.”
I am made better as I change
I’ll throw it all away

Becoming one with the woven darkness
A second skin, as I shed the first
I reject what has been thrust upon me
This vessel soon to harbour my rebirth

The tension rises, overrides us
And we’re ready to blow
Embrace the burn and pretty soon
You won’t feel pain anymore
It’s moving fast, we won’t outlast
But we can do it again
So, leave your worries
At the door and just breathe