Sometimes the only thing I can do is bendTwistMy shapeAbandonedFor anotherThe full moonorA robyn winging through the treesMold my body like clayForming strange new limbsThat catch rain drops fallingFrom the rings of SaturnErecting deranged feats of mental architectureAn Escher painting cut from jagged stoneTrying to shieldFrom your residence in my mindTaking tufts of my skinTo form a disguiseHiding myself from your gazeSometimes the only thing I can do is change
But not this timeI will not lose myself to youWill not shift my shape for your convenienceYour comfortYour stupidityI cannot be what you want meI will not beWhat you want me to becomeA canvas for your crimesA receptacle for your guiltMark meI will kill youBefore you forgetMy trueSelf