I wish I could wake up
In a display case

No wood but my
Limbs
Nothing wet but my
Paint
Flawless
Smooth Razor-******

No searching
For caverns
To plunder
No caves to protect
From thieves
Gone asunder

I wish my canvas was blank
Androgynous beauty
A creation of
Choice

But I think I used to have a voice

Characters danced in my esophagus
And played my cords
Like a
Cello

They shouted on a
Page
And longed for the
Stage

But struggled against
My front
Teeth

After years of neglect,
Too cruel to forget
And too torturous again
To repeat

They forwent their "adieus"
But muttered "**** yous"
As they went to turn tricks
Down the street