A growing chorus of spores Like shedding skin pried from the numb and In them pain and clinical routines and scars Hour hands slice open people then Leave them bright, shy hopes for sequels and Rows of leaders need our meat for their Broken little drum
Force feed more than life could My collection of dry eyes should See through petaled nights of loss that share A home inside of my heart There unsetlled like every place I haunt And you're building more
Force feed more than life could my collection of dry eyes should See through petaled nights of loss that share A home inside of my heart Written in pencil like everything I want And I'm erasing doors