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A fatal error was encountered! Please relaunch under a different alias β€” hover to recall lost data. tap to recall lost data.

On my first day, you took me to a home for ghosts and said,
"Here's your place. You're our people now."

You handed me a gun I couldn't use and said,
"Keep it close. Devils enter near to hand."

You showed me evocations of what we hunt and said,
"Stay safe out there. Some of them survive in your head."

You gave me an office, and a neighbor, and a keycard to nowhere and somewhere,
And said,
"You'll fit right in." survive in your head

My vision circumspected your face and I wondered if that's,
normal at all.
If it's suspicious that my concept is fractured, and memories of memories of myself have picked up the pieces.
That recollection bleeds from my psychoform and areas of vital importance are caught in promise.

Sometimes I'll cough and cry, and a structure in my brain which is not me extends its arms to hug the version of myself I lost in the Partition. fit right in

Another person handles days like this and says,
"It's alright to not know yourself."

I know.

I am a socioparasitic anomaly waiting to be unmasked.
I am a psychohazardous baleform wanting to be locked away.
I am a maladaptive corrosion of the human experience begging to be contained.

I am notes taped to desktop screens and ink etched on paper and the nods of heads in white stairwells.

And I just
you would say to me,
"Can you step out for a minute? We need to talk."

And someone would clean out my office while I'm gone for the day.
Or the month.
Or the year.

Or however long it takes a humanoid's heart to leave a cell just its size.

Data recalled! Things will be alright, I just know it. πŸ«‚

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