Your Winding Self.

Slither like tectonic plate above tectonic plate,
Earth shaking and quaking, It's mind so irate,
Looking for someone to waltz out and in with Him.

God's real name, it should be "infinite",
Everything rabbit trails twining together,
I've never seen a snow globe tell me its all that exists.

I'm going crazy, I know that I am,
I'm a cat claw that cat will one day pull in
To a body that shakes and it quakes as it's suffering.

You don't think with your head,
You think with your body and bones.

Your heart isn't lead, nor is your body dead anymore.

All the creatures you've named,
You know why they're named.

But you don't have no clue,
Your own name might just mean "shit and grime man".

I've bee living in atrophy, his grubby old man hands on me,
And I just want out.
My mind won't stay still, quiet itself in the way that it will,
It's so loud in my head, and on Easter I'm just wishing for death.

But you've been bringing me home.

To rest, a selfish head on your bed, and hold me like we're both in love.