hum hum hum hum of the machine in my room in my brain
churning burning twirling whirling
fucking my shit UP
there are scratches at my door and scars all down my left side
from impromptu costume design when feeling feels hard
grasping at straws, trying to breathe,
trying to ease into some happiness here,
smooth pill-shaped, bed-shaped, hear under the cracks of the door
the life that is still desired to be living
scuttle my way to catville
a place of dirt and spit and dry food spilt on the floor
where my shit's cleaned up
and i can't walk two feet without some motherfucker picking me up
moving me, touching me, dirty hands grabbing me, wanting me
what, dude, i just gotta be chasing ghosts in the hallway
protecting your shit
and you're messing with me?
one night i will purr subliminal messages into your ear
and how will you like feeling turned on by vegetable human?
yeah that's right, gotta go sleep.
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