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That isn’t who I am.

That’s not who I’m supposed to be.

That’s not who I know myself as.

I don’t look in the mirror and see that- that. Isn’t. Me.

Drown it out, topple over myself in search of any tonic, tincture, or cure.

But the only real solution is to bury that dragon guarding my personality’s castle.

Depraved. Kill the tower you constructed in order to be free.

That’s easier said than done when I remember every brick I laid, every droplet of sweat from the hours I put in constructing it.

I tucked myself in on the very top floor and then jumped from the window.

In my free fall I became that compulsive hoarder of mythos- the beast who denies myself- the princess- happiness or salvation.

No- I won’t. I’d rather us both die- the armor and the scared shaky kneed knight within. Take us both because I won’t let her go, no matter what.

I don’t care how much time I waste, how many bridges I burn with my breath.

I am the captain and I am the ship and I will sink.

I’ll see to it.

I will go down.