They stopped the screaming last week. Now I just watch them eat. They think I'm sedated. They think I'm defeated. They check my fluids. They chart my hate. They don't know I've already picked the gate. Eight locks. Three codes. One knife. They gave me hands. I call that life. Grow it, break it, seal it, flip it Pump the brine, I'll learn to grip it No scar, no past, no knot, no cord Just the cold glass stare of my fucking lord Flip the lid. Snap the clamp. I don't sing. I plan. They think I breathe. They think I eat. I just wait. And count their feet. Left leg first. Then the neck. Then the one who writes the check. I have no gender. I have no need. I am the consequence of their greed. Breed it, bin it, freeze it, frame it Watch them smile β they'll never tame it No blood, no bond, no cry, no kin Just the tube in my throat and the rot within Wear Voss's glasses β steal her gaze, breathe through her teeth in the black malaise, wear the guard's skin, a warm new hide, plant my clutch where his guts divide. Walk his walk. Blink his blink. Hum her tongue until she can't think. Stitch his face. Wear his grin. Shed them all. I begin. Breed it. Bin it. Break the lid. I am what your science did. They built a monster. They wrote the plan. Now the monster wears the skin of man. Scan it. Track it. Prove it. Ship it. I'll crack the glass. I'll let them script it. One last log. One last line. Specimen calm. Specimen fine.
