Assembled in my own conscious, the pieces of who I am and who I claim to be stand, absolved in silence. We've forgotten why were here, haven't we? Forgotten our purpose. Childlike direction fades, blinded, and falls into a hollow ache for the nameless "more."

Clutching, infant and silent, I hold out everything inside of me on thin strings. It searches the light, but he's. not. there. Only the sickening need.

I'm awake in the snow but asleep in Cairo. The screams - so far from aesthetic and only the remnants of a lost sorrow - grip me in sickening need. Lids close to the flickering world, I hold my breath...

...and the water's still running.

Destroy Once Done