You claim it was only to shield me from the wicked of this world; Yet I drown indefinitely within the waters of the womb. All rationale and awareness are but shells of your echoes. Shell I am, was there ever an I. How does one seek that which isn't, find oneself they say. Was the entirety of my sentience just your chance at a regretful do-over? I lay rotting in my incubated grave; Every shred of selfhood stripped away. This womb fashioned into a glorious coffin. For my fate was sealed, ever since you conceived; from the instance I entered, I was to be indentured.
