bones dancing grave, adhdrave
you know I'm not the same, not sane
particles ripping in collisions atomically
pill popping, limbs snapping eventually
backbreak in a similar vein to big bane
waiting to find direction from weather vanes
and shit talking NPCs playing games
I got more solutions than playing minesweeper
for eighty days, eighty nights of sleepless
sleep talking walking stalking distorted
shadows perceiving me with illusions
that intoxicate my collective identity
making me lose names like socks
slipping through the interdimensional
tear in my couch
I wonder how many keys I'll find like
loose change between those cushions
oh there's the remote
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