A voice inside me
hums a forgotten hymn that
only I can hear.

“You are a titan,”
it whispers against my cheek,
“So what do you fear?”

“Nothing,” I murmur
unconvincingly, and I
look the other way.

“You’re lying,” it sneers,
“You’re a titan, yet you dread
the chaste light of day.”

“That’s not true,” I say,
as I shoo its shadow back.
“Don’t feed me your lies.”

It slithers ‘round my neck
and laughs: “I see how it is!
You’re what you despise.

“You are a titan,
yet you fear yourself, quaking
at your reflection.

“You are no titan,
titan’s don’t hide in the dark,
seeking affection.”

I lower my lids
as the voice worms in my skin,
boiling as I cry:

“You are what I feared,
but not anymore, because
your lips leak foul lies.

“I am a titan,
great conqueror of the world,
unmatched and unbent.

“You are a snake,
watch as I step on your scales-
see if I relent.”