when empty, boneless fingers claw
in haste at my shy-away face
and the waves of pain lap silently at my
ears,
when my sordid mind believes
in part that all is lost...

i remember,
i am what i am and
i am what i am.

when the cage of ribs achieves not
a flight, however stalled
and aching teeth gnaw with fever upon
remnants of joy.
when the seeing eyes depart so intentionally
out from their sockets,
and blindness ensues in its grateful yet laborious
way...

when i slink as a stranger around the chains that
hold me down, a prisoner,
i rejoice,
and the scent of victory floods as quickly away
as it came to be.

i rejoice,

when talons of grief grip hard at the hands
i used to pray
when the walls become more
than the grooves and dips which my fingers
have created
when the hurt settles in the permanent
crater of my face..
when the pain is undervourable,

alas,
when the euphoria surrenders its hands
at my feet,
glowing like two capable hearths,
i rejoice a final time,
await the cycle as it rests,
and kiss each knuckle
abrasion, bruise
and find my place among the sinews
of purest joy.

i remember,
i am what i am,

i am what i am.