  

Made in God’s image,

Taught Tibetan monks,

Took refuge in the blood of Christ,

The reflection always stings,

Acne scars on my face,

One large nasty scar across the face,

Was a wild child that disfigured his façade,

Wrinkles under the eyes from sleepless nights,

This is the image of something divine?

Perhaps perception is always distorted,

Going manic and overly grandiose,

Life is a tight rope up in flames,

My manic self likes to dance in infernos,

The joy of chasing something to buy,

Staying with strangers every night,

Receptors hit with a mullet of chemical highs,

Hearing the voices and hopelessly paranoid,

Feeling like a canary in an asphyxiating cage,

If I hear the music I dance,

Yet everyone wants to clip my wings,

Lithium tinges my dreams and breaths.