Shell Shackle

1:25 am.

The AC's hum couldn't match the loudness of my thoughts. The cool air it breathes doesn't even measure up to the chill of this deep-seated loneliness.
I ask myself, "what are you?"
Not "who" cause I have doubts as to my humanity.
You see, ever since my world began, I've dreamed of being somewhere else. I tried imagining what it's like to be someone else or something else and carry a different consciousness.
This shell is like a shackle the me who's not yet me wants to break through.

That doesn't make sense.

Well, things the deep night can do.

Who's up running the same nonsense?