Pincushion

Where the air hangs like the static of a dead end radio

I'm waiting with a frozen pulse

Crawl into an empty womb, don't raise these dead

They've found their God in soil

Dry scab silhouette's tell the secrets of sewn mouths

My heart is a sore but even charred faces crack smiles

Mismanufactured, screaming like some faulty machinery

The overwhelming inefficiency of infants

Artificer stead me now, you've sewn a machine

You've birthed an abortion, the corpse of God is love

I'm rotting and I'm not yet dead, I'm the king of worms and I'll have your head

Resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin, I swear, I've never been here before

Everyone but me looks like they've seen a ghost

All eyes fall on collapsing statues, stop pointing, stop laughing

There's nothing to see here, everybody try to relax

Everybody please remain calm

(I'm not supposed to be here anyway)

Divinity doesn't show what the stables hold

The scalpel proves my faith when he spits through his words

We traitors share our strings, we're suffocating under makeshift skin

Pull out the thread, sew on a heart, make peace with dirt