My body is a canvass
Tinted are griefs
Of reminiscent past

My body is a wall--
A mural of every break, every fall

My body is a plate
Etched of anguish my mind berates

I am a paint--
Deep, dark burgundy--
The shade of my soul's ignominy

I am a brush--
Strokes of hate in the evening's hush

I am a clay--
Molded in disappointment and dismay

I am a charcoal--
Smudged by idiocy
And ideas that are shoal

My body is a sculpture--
Crafted with unsightliness and disgust

I am an edifice--
A construction of mars,
Founded by scars

I am the thread of my clothes--
I wear to cover my bones--
   I hide in the closet--
I deeply loathe

I am a masterpiece--
Of repugnance and self-grudge;
Of vexation, of lies--
Of hate! Of hate! Of hate!

I am an art--
A sophisticated tragedy,
An intricate catastrophe
Perfection in all grotesquerie