In Consistency With Mad Men

*** If you solve this one, you'll get the satisfaction of knowing why I feel the way I do ... and some cookies. You want some cookies? ***

I am ...
wandering aimlessly
on a stairway of mirrors,
molded of dark poetry
in clay formations of virginity,
chained by my nerves and veins
to a cloud of pains
for this grave on my face, we share an affinity.

Give me prison cells,
with cold iron bars,
to give my keys a reason to exist;
while I am made of dying stars
you leave me kissed,
a dream passing by, which I have missed ...

In the hands of a skeleton
I give birth to my temporary ...

My foot is through the mirrors,
falling through shards of another man's face
imagery of emotionless embrace
naked and,
fresh and,
why, screaming,
when it's only a whisper?

When it's a zombie,
just a body (just his body), just a
consistency
in a prison;
I'm not alone after all ...

In the hands of a skeleton,
I give birth to this temporary
...
sanity,
in these reds and whites of grief
on my new meaningless body,
I wilt and dissipate like dead leaves
in the wind of intoxicated breath ...

Naked and,
fresh and,
why, howling,
a wolf so furless and
wet and
raw,
I am a twin dead from birth .....
in the hands of another man's skeleton .....