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All relaxed with nails bit to the quick while golden was the silence, like a foam filling the mouth of the exempt. |
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The burdened saw the damage, absorbed with our legs lost to heated white lies. |
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We remain to pull its frame from the ashen wreck of anxiety, blown to conspicious borrowed attacks. |
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We've got the nerve to live so low like this, with nails bit to quick and teething blood so warm. |
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The man who keeps sewing needles between his teeth prefabricates every spoken word, with no weapons to lay in front of me. |
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Robbed of my skills in social weaponry, robbed. |
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Impending was the omen, no choice but to sever dead skin. |
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You reap what you sow to degrees you'll never know. |
