Good Moring,Universe

I can feel their branches like fingers

Flashing nimble signs of silent criticism

Dryly criticizing my entire inner workings, wet and dirty

Earthworms and insects

On missions of reconnaisance are welcome inhabitants

And every now and then I feel one exit

How many go unnoticed? How many interspecies languages have they decoded?

These trees are all so old, I really don't know why they're interested

Why they talk the loudest when they know that I'll be listening

I've tried to decipher the shouting of the rivers, and the valleys, and the mountains

Figure out what it's about

And all I've got is birds chirping, red Sharpie circles 'round my words

So they're converting all my thoughts to wordless noise

So I finally decided I would help them

If this is their intention, I could be the finest ally to the cause

The covert reports can all be called off

You wanna broadcast my thoughts? Let's get them straight from the source

I can stand on street corners, draw diagrams of strangers

Hand out pages from my diary, with footnotes and annotations

So that passerby can identify the remains of my life

(Don't even bother, it's all a bunch of fuckin' lies!)

The trees no longer need to keep a live feed on my heart beat

I'll talk to anything with ears until I've bled out all my secrets

I'm begging, please, at least let me keep my body

It's not stopping sun setting, clock ticking, rock spinning

The ozone won't stop whispering

The xylophone bones

In my ribs are shown explicitly

I keep my lips sealed, but somehow

It's amounting and accounted independent of my mouth

My spine wants out

It's ironic, I think my own body is making fun of me

Mocking the absense of a skeleton in this rubbish heap

You want a beef? Fine

This game was made for two to play

We can give or take 'til my balls break, my dome leaks, my brain fails

I can run on empty, then when my skull decompresses

And it's contents on the table

Maybe they'll be plainly legible

I'll be ready to sleep

You can feed me intraveinously

Some pairin' of paramedics will poke their heads down here eventually

Until then, forget it

I'm sick of feeling parasitic in my own temple

Not knowin' my reflection

Too much wasted effort on a vessel that betrays me every chance that it gets

I can feel their branches like fingers

Poking, prying, pushing pins and needles underneath my skin

My battered nervous system tangled

A voodoo doll made out of chewing gum and chicken innards

Stuffed with bets for approximation of a human being

I can feel them laughing when I make decisions

Mimicking the actions I had taken

In my sleep when I've dreamed of realistic situations

I am merely nature's plaything

Pointing at the sun and trying to pull back on the string

I'm just a million wet cells, each completely senseless

A million turning worlds brillst effecting for the necklace

Atoms scattered to the wind, My skin turns to sand

Magnifications of my brain shape the terrain of this land

Of this prison, I'm not concerned with learning how to live in this position

Powerless, buried at the bottom of the hourglass

Powerless, buried at the bottom of the hourglass

Buried at the bottom of the hourglass

Buried