sleeping off the truth

 
the fancy anemone upon your plate  
fixes the reasons to keep you up late
tentacles jingling  
using words that sting
you search for a voice  
but you're too weak to sing
 
seems the more you  
wriggle  
the more you read
the more you write  
the less you bleed
 
& all that blood  
dribbles down the drain
where bad head nights  
wont ass wipe the pain
of numb-dumb discussions  
in the artist's name
 
it's the best  
the worst  
& the purest  
death sentence
that's for life
carved in the crook of a heart
by the perfect walmart wife
 
& the more she  
wriggles
the more she reads
seems the more she writes
the more she bleeds
 
did you notice  
your mom went missing
but you know she's not  
missing you
they set a chip in her eye  
& the desert's a sky
where the fake rubber stars  
shine through
 
so how could anyone  
blame you
for acting this confused
when kids need AK47's  
to fix the population boom
& jam hell's fingers  
in their ears  
hoping heaven will get fooled  
 
but the more we wriggle  
the more we read
the more we write  
the more we bleed
 
& it isn't any use
if we're sleeping off the truth
sleeping off
the truth