Mom,
I think I’ve finally found the perfect song
For when my body looks twisted and wrong-
The electric guitars that keen and shred
Quiet the chaos that lurks in my head.

The singer’s voice is a wounded roar,
But I can make out, “just once, no more-”
It might not be graceful- it might not be sane-
But it broadens my vision and clears out my veins

It almost gives me the candor to ask-
No, tell you what you have to look past:
Open you eyes and supernaturally see
The person that I know myself to be.

So I bind up my chest like I’m ready for war,
I don my new clothes and I step out my door...
"Good morning, daughter, I sure do love you...”
And I can’t help but feel that your mantras untrue.

I retreat to my den like a bat out of hell
And my music ascends a few decibels,
While I contemplate life and try to relax-
I’m not daughter nor son, but remain yours,
                                                                Max