transparent
your eyes drooping dead
your arms over your head
draft posture, throught graphic
you stood layered lean
covers of magazines
i'd worship you
and now i reside in my head
and i ripped you to shreds
page after page
if i could show no remorse
let severance run it course
you'd disengage
but i watch it without the sound
you're far, i'm underground
we star in silent films
we live in cryptic realms
you feel
complicated and spread
you watch me densely dread
each monologue, we sit
on porches and trains
listening to complaint
and prattle talk
and we are identical
anguish, inexplicable
and i wouldn't know what to
tell me if i were you
and you're not saying much
i watch it without the sound
you're far, im underground
we star in silent films
we live in cryptic realms
i think i'm getting out