Am I by design

Or designed by?

Am I written in Frankenstein

Code lines?

Is to recognise

Myself by my outline

Not to shanghai

Everything that makes me human?

Do versions of me pixelate?

A mask made for each thing I faced?

Have I been decoyed by deep fakes

Is the child my mum wraiths

The child she raised?

Could we have saved them?

Am I now enslaved by them?

Am I in block chains

Like clot veins?

A link for every piece I erased?

Am I seizing to escape

The matrices I make?

Like how the belly of a snake

Sizes it up its prey?

Am I stalker of my fate?

Is my data-set in stone?

Does grief live within my bones?

Did I run away from home?

Am I asleep in a cerebral vortex?

Am I seizing to forget

Because the memories are atomic?

Seizing to learn the truth

Because truths drop atonic?

Finding it hard to swallow self

I need a tonic

Is my chronology clonic?

Is my story selective

Like a highlight reel?

Is reality a symptom?

Are my symptoms even real?

Am I sampled from the Avatars

This body I animate: a mock up?

Or is that the imposters

Talking I ex like popups?

Did my inner child stop writing

As they got older?

When they realised the wisdom

They gave went straight to spam folder?

If I told my therapist I'm unstable

Like the ground is 4D?

Would they tell me

\"that's just the PPPD?\"

Would the EEG

Find a supercell thunderstorm

Brewing since the day I was born?

Do I decrypt all my secrets in a spasm?

Tell myself none of it happened?

Does awakening come in phantasm?

Will I find light in the flick of it?

Cache in a kick of limb?

Crash in the thick of it?

Do I disconnect

Or reconnect?

Am I by design

Or designed by?

Am I picking scabs of wounds?

Does seldom come in serous?

For now, will that do?