Strapped and bound to the wall
a game of ******* and chains, as
solitude light casts shadows
on an abomination's remains,

I gaze into the mirror on the wall
my troubled face pasty as sour milk
and the laughing glass laughs, taunting
from beneath a surface as smooth as silk

for within its nether-twine frame
thy carbon copy mimics my reflection
spun from a festering web of sorrow,
and tainted by prolific perfection

the accusations of people that have been cast
through my estranged blood it runs,
for bending both ways is despicable
and to do so I might as well kiss their loaded guns

and as I stare at my sorry reflection
I see juvenility, excitement and confusion
daggers of shame piercing my eyes,
the skin around blackening from their intrusion, and pathetic lies

oh yes change is strange
and as humans we naturally fear
but love is such a word now often unheard
causing the laughing glass to leer

and now when I look at myself
I don't see who I truly am,
that, beyond their cackles and conniving remarks,
I am actually so much more than -

I see a stranger, a ******, a mistaken queer,
the number one prestigious freak -

but from the shadows I will rise
and from my heart I will finally speak.