I turn my head to my conscious,
Starved of attention and subjected to abuse,
It screams like lost children,
So I close my mouth to muffle the internal chaos,
My heart jumps out of my chest,
Playing double dutch without rhythm,
It struggles to absolve the dissonance my body has created,
It rattles my ribs,
creating the melancholy percussion of a man with no ears.
My eyes gleam in the mirror,
Admiring the stick like features I have acquired.
My stomach hollow and curved like a cello,
neck of a violin,
and legs thin and sleek like a bow,
I had found beauty.
My mind took pity and sought ecstasy.
Like the sharp keys of a piano,
It drowned out the disharmony,
by playing a happy excuse.
The drugs tuned each key to a pure pitch,
and finally permitted me to conduct myself.