Desperate. Irrational. Seething. Wishing for what was already granted, forgetting to ask for what was promised. Miserable. Deplorable. Aching. Watching the blood careen down ashy knees. The punch wasn’t enough. The punishment didn’t knock me out fast enough. I can feel you ripping veins out of my lungs, and my aorta screams at the sight of you dancing for another. I could be better. I could be everything they are, and more. But you don’t see me. You don’t see me reaching. You only see that I failed, and that’s enough for you.