suspended animation
over, and over, and it's over again
some days i feel like a corpse
what i imagine a corpse looks like, feels like, keels like
i'm still living, of course
baring minimum what life smells like, tastes like, wastes like
the birth of psyche
in torment's caress
what we bleed like, need like
a sickness not within organs
viscera swimming sweetly
what we die like, vye like
stump-legged and sap-mouthed
we deserve life and we have it
spit-brained and slit-boned
we experience and we decay
some nights i bust my dusty skin
what i know a dream sounds like, plays like, flays like
it all rots away