Untitled: Poem

This thing I have become
prowls around outside me at night
and observes me asleep
disdain
written across its features
It has a future
full of glittering promise
and it hates that I am so low
and I refuse to leave
It cannot be without me
but it will not be content
as long as I remain
what I am
This thing I have become
is restless
it wants the world it was promised
at my birth
and the limits of here
and now
do not matter to its ambition
I could conquer it
or I could let it win
I haven’t decided
and so it lives within
but is not me
and when it escapes it’s angry
and when it’s inside it’s a fever
It can’t be bought
it won’t be hushed
I will live
or die
by its will
This thing
I have become this thing
I have become

 

- Corinne Simpson