Often confusing

Identitiy

My hands refuse to ink,
Lest they from me unlink.
My self, here and gone in a blink,
Myself, unheard and in sync.
My voice refuses to sing,
Vocal chords they stay the same,
Unbending to my pleas,
Trapping timbres and melodies.
Till they sleep from pores unseen,
Leaving drained and misery,
Till the stars they fade and ache,
In this heart, a triumph make,
As it ends this melancholy,
Echoed by this trusty beat,
Least my heart still keeps,
Harmony, linked, parody.
But it's for naught just to lengthen,
This time I have, not strengthen,
Myself, I find alone,
Beating cymbals, breaking bone,
Yearning to be home,
Yet no place I see, alone
I sit hoping to be,
One day linked with my identity.