I feel as if I’m malignant.
As if I was given
the wrong vial of lifeblood,
and my designated path,
it closed up.
The merchant
(an unconfirmed maker)
convinced my parents to purchase
the one labeled radiation.
Life & death is a godly simulation.
A sought-after stimulation.
With every passing second,
the poison spread
throughout my body like conformity.
It has left me contaminated.
Despite my effort to maintain individuality
the results are minimal.
Perhaps I’ve been too clinical.
Or a tad bit too cynical.
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