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