Prosthetic Meat

Do you like being grabbed?
Do you like being taken care of?

Are there angels singing when I speak.
I've never told anyone this...

When I slept on stone.
I felt my bones melt and fuse.

When I die.
I want my body carried to the Sun.

I want 5 minutes alone with my demons.
I want to explain.

Snip snip, trigger, slash slash.
Seen outside myself.

Alone in my wildreness of mirrors.
Together I stood the test of time.

Even a flaw is perfect.
It's perfect because a flaw is honest.

And in the night sky with no stars.
I laugh and cry when I trace its form until it glows.

When I wake from my madness.
I'll tell my story again using only my eyes.