In the old days
myths were the stories we used to explain ourselves.
But how can we explain the way we hate ourselves,
the things we’ve made ourselves into,
the way we break ourselves in two,
the way we overcomplicate ourselves?
But we are still mythical.
We are still permanently trapped somewhere between the heroic and the pitiful.
We are still godly;
that’s what makes us so monstrous.
But it feels like we’ve forgotten we’re much more than the sum of all
the things that belong to us…