Ink on my arm exploding across my dry skin
Cells pre-aging; hereditary
Magnifying energies, coldness when my breath is still
The bark on the tree gets rigid and frozen
Voided spells alter life, hands slide under the gap
Have centipedes been inside before?
Have centipedes been inside before?
Gripping as it holds onto itself
It keeps attempting to grow
Crack-back echos
Naked the scream
Two pennies left at the roots
Two pennies left at the roots
They kneel and dig fingers into the dirt
There's no way to push forward
To force anything
Stop blowing smoke in its face, face, face
