Look.  Past appearance, past hair and smell
and braying wheezing dischord as my soul
Strives to sing.

I am HERE!
Singing, dancing and waiting.
I groan and ache.
Who I am is not here,
Who knew that emptiness,
null could be so
concrete, so staunch,
so unyielding and
sternly hard?

My absence is a pit that breaks my teeth.
PULL ME OUT OF MYSELF ALIVE!
Let me live, be.
Please? Deliver me.

God grant me grace,
chance to let the knife
Cut away the bray
and set my heartsong free.