I am nothing.

I am Prussia.

I am I am I am

I am I am

I am

.

.

.

But what is Prussia?

Prussia Prussia Prussia

Prussia is a country,

my country,

me.

Konigreich Preuβen.

Kingdom of Prussia.

Founded in 1701,

and in 1918,

dissolved.

No

longer

a

country.

No

no no no no no

if there is no Prussia

I cannot be Prussia.

If I am not Prussia,

who am I?

.

.

.

I am nothing.

.

.

.

I long to be acknowledged.

I need to be acknowledged.

.

.

.

So I will be loud,

and annoying,

and my scratchy laugh,

"kesesesese,~"

will be something

no one ("no one"? Isn't that me? I am no one)

will ever

forget.

.

.

.

So I will rip your sheet music,

pull your hair,

be a leech,

because

even if you hate me—

and you do hate me (of course you do)—

you at least know

that I exist.

I am here.

Prussia lives.

.

.

.

Everything I do is a silent plea:

notice me

Notice Me

NOTICE ME!

.

.

.

The things I do for attention

are gradually

becoming

uneffective.

"Oh—

it's just

Gilbert.

No big deal."

No.

"What else can you expect from him?"

No.

"I barely

even

notice

it—

him—

anymore."

NO!

.

.

.

noticemenoticemenoticeme

noticemenoticemenoticeme noticemenoticemenoticeme noticemenoticemenoticeme

noticeme!

.

.

.

"Prussia,"

I hear you,

your voice so soft,

barely there,

"Prussia"

You are the only one to call me that now.

Only

you.

"Prussia"

say

my

name

"Prussia!"

scream

my

name.

"PRUSSIA!"

.

.

.

when we finish

you say my name

again

"Prussia,"

you hesitate,

"Prussia,

are

you

okay?"

Okay?

Me?

I am

never

okay.

"You look a bit …

different,

Prussia.

Paler.

Thinner."

A shrug

a murmur of

I'm fine

and you believe me.

.

.

.

It's enough to make me want to cry.

and laugh.

cry laugh cry laugh cry cry cry

.

.

.

Sometimes I forget.

What I'm doing.

Who I am.

Everything.

.

.

.

Sometimes they forget, too.

.

.

.

Sometimes we forget together.

.

.

.

it is cold

so cold cold cold

you look at me

"who are you?"

who am i?

who am i?

good question.

.

.

.

I look at my feet.

I have no feet.

I look at my hands.

I have no hands.

.

.

.

I am fading.

.

.

.

I am

I am I am

I am I am I am

I am Prussia.

I am nothing.


i own nothing.

i realize it jumps around a lot and makes no sense. this is intentional.

this is the raw version - unedited and everything. i have not even proofread it.

it may or may not be edited in the future.