Period Piece

Failed every period Did baroque badly Afraid of blood Dream was too lonely I chose keeping it together In these Ikea white walls Of my post-[?] silence But only desire is real I must find some kind of art form Where I can tow my [?] Back from the underground Back from the underground There are multitudes There are multitudes In the doctor's office Speculum pulls me open Spacing the space Accidental sci-fi Regulating My aperture Measure my [?] Some people find it painful But all I feel is connected All I feel is connected There must be some kind of art form Where I can pour my blood There are multitudes There are multitudes There are multitudes Don't be afraid It's only blood