SCAT'TRD.

I have never been elevated,

I have served an empty throne. 

The enthroned one cares not for me,

For I sit in it alone.

I am a tautophonic scream

awake in humid, lucid dream.

They shouted me on taking 

medicines that keep them waking.

And yes, I attacked your weakness.

Yes, when you were vulnerable.

You chronicled it then,

and so did I.

But you didn't account

for my Fermentinfatuation 

or 

the relentless strength in you. 

* * *

Here I hate this absence of old

repeating the fiction of hurt.

I was stuck halfway between scattered and stoned.

Halfway between water and dirt.