Down unfamiliar streets, this body of mine crumbles with each step, and yet from within, there’s this music that beats to a tune of its own. Flesh slips from bone and doubt dances with regret, and not one hour goes by when it doesn’t feel like I’m struggling for each breath, but here I am, some kind of poet with a foot in the door to a place I’d rather be. Has it been worth it? These years of hardship? Of existing far from the arms of those I once called my own? There are times when it doesn’t feel like it. There are times when it seems as though I’m destined to failure, and that this thing, these dreams, they don’t mean shit at all. And yet even in my lowest moments, beauty never feels far from my grasp. It’s madness, I’m sure, but so what if it is? So what if I lose my mind? So what if I’m left with nothing? The transformation from ordinary to strange will have been worth it alone. To have become a dreamer on the edge of collapse places me among the stars, and no amount of pain or ridicule will take that away from me. The sky begins to darken and snot flows from my nose and these eyes of mine sting and drip tears that roll into my dry and twisted mouth. What a freak I must seem, but although on the surface I’m just another loser hiding from the light, inside of me there’s this music that never ceases. Even when I’m crawling on my knees with no energy left down a road of which appears to have no end, the sounds that come from my soul make me howl, and even though my lips crack and blood smears itself all over my teeth, this smile won’t ever leave. Because I’ve got that foot in that door. And each time I break down and come close to giving in, the door opens a little bit more, and the music that comes from beyond mixes with the music behind my ribs creating a song as old as the universe and as fleeting as that perfect kiss that lingers long into the night.