Like a pushpin, you dig beneath my shell, pouring out the puss and blood,
But nothing has ever felt this good.
The flaws of my personality, my certainty, drip to the floorboards,
And all I can do is thank you, for cleaning out my flesh wounds.
Grow your stature in capacity, take no pity and aim for my soul,
Sure sight the target and replace new with old.
Inject an essence, a virus within me, let it boil and burst,
The clockwork now fractured, but nothing compared to the worst.
Nerve endings spasm, convulse to an exotic beat,
Slowing over time, only the sound of twitching feet.
Pull the veil over my eyes, but more like a sheet,
Just a reaction of an action, as my eyes water their sleet.
Spread me out to dry, over time as if that matters,
For I am nothing more than ordinary, morgue’s cadaver.