Disfigured Isolation

Headaches, coughing fits, neurasthenics and saint vitus dancers. To you who wheeze and sneeze and bawl, get out from my bed I cannot name you

Stumbling forward on cracked hooves, who'd have thought I'd grow up and grow horns, they make monsters wait in line like other men, have you ever met anyone?
To hold something my hands could not crush

No, no medicine. Planned wound, open like a wet flower, stitches slip and won't hold, find life even here, when I must feed my python hair, am I not deserving of love?

Who would pay/ To see a bird/ bleed/ anyone?