Distilled Poem
I am boiled down.
Become more of myself than I ever have.
Become more than I should ever have to be.
Removed of all except myself.
Left to collect in a glass I never chose.
Never quite reaching the top.
Both good and bad.
Hated and loved.
The process takes an eternity.
A state I must be.
No longer in flux.
Survived.