Ipse

Self-awareness?      	   Self is silence,          In its mother,		When a mirror
The who I am,              The medium                These rising tides  	Returns your stare
Stripped to bareness,      That no violence          Cannot smother 		Are you here or
Is speaking. Sam,          Can overcome.             The child. Besides,	Transported there?

Pay attention.             Therefore wholly,         You, the lessons		Oppositions,
Your life depends          Abandon art.              Have always said,		The tombs, the wombs,
On intention               Study only                Are, in essence,		Swap positions.
Of perfect ends.     	   Your beating heart:       Already dead.		Your image zooms

Masturbation,              Pressure, clenching       No resistance:		Forward, breaking
Expression, jizz,          Your blood, a fist,       The wire connects,   	The mirror. I'm
All creation,              Fingers wrenching         Shorts existence.		Mostly making
In substance, is           This mortal twist.        Your pulse projects 	No time for time.

Water splashing            Blood in motion...        Through its limits.	Seconds shatter.
Against a wall.      	   The waves in clocks...    Unconsciousness     	The old design
What's this thrashing      Like an ocean,            Floods the minutes		Doesn't matter.
Beyond it all?             The body rocks            With timelessness.		All self is mine