Rub Salt in an Open Wound (and You Shall Feel Human)

I am a vacant shell
stationary in the grasps of time
overlooking the significance
in mountains left to climb

I feel nothing, nobody
numb, null and void
tied up in the woven string
of a marionette long destroyed.

I am a hollow mask
forgotten, and cast to one side
I've walked to the edge of the earth
and where I knelt, I've etched a line.

I feel tattered, damaged
frayed, drained and tired
expelling a bleak atmosphere
undeserving of all I've desired.

I am fire, I am water and I am stone
I am oxygen, I am pharmaceuticals and I am smoke
I am alcohol, I am open wounds and I am salt
I am blood, sweat and tears

and I feel human