I don’t know who I want to be
Picking and choose constantly
Among a chain of eyes
And a cupboard of noses
And legs wrapped in plastic.
I get to decide, because it’s my body
Because it’s my life.
So, I’ll slice of my old nose
In exchange for new woes
And I’ll pity the face staring at me
I’ll remember I got my soul
But once I sold that too.
Now there is seldom to do
But sit around and peer out of
Unrecognizing eyes.
Wishing to be one of those
Who has their own mind