Imagine yourself knee deep in floodwaters. Imagine yourself rescuing an old lady and her cat from a burning building. Imagine yourself actually living in a gutter.

Imagine a plane with no pilots. Imagine the moon, both sides. Imagine everything had changed; realize all of it has stayed the same. Imagine being drafted. Imagine war. Imagine the warmth of a room after coming in from the snow.

Imagine a grave, a shallow one, for me, or you, or no one. Imagine health. Imagine longevity. Imagine vanity.

With a knife to my throat, you ask my to say the alphabet from Z to A
With a gun to the head, you ask me to count the productive conversations between the two of us
Being that this hole belongs to me, imagine me lowered. Imagine dirt. On me. Worms, in my skin. Out of empty sockets and back in again through my ears. Forming a circle. Imagine me pounding, screaming to escape. Imagine red, blood. Imagine the end of the world.

I. These phrases may be used interchangeably.

In the case of this patient, we expected nothing less. As a marginally dissociative fellow, this comes as no surprise, it happens all the time. Everyone from the white coats to the volunteers and cabbies are in on it, or should I say, they were in on it. They snickered. They laughed. They blew cigarette smoke into his eyes. They ashed in his trashcan. With a patient like this, when they see the finish line, they go for it.

II. Not a single person cares.

Business is business and routines are routines. The world keeps turning. The coffee keeps brewing and sitting lukewarm in large paper cups. All the flowers are dead and so is he.

III. You will not be remembered.

Well, at least not kindly. You see, patients like him were an obligation; more of a liability than a person. One of those. Pretty run of the mill, but this guy was different. He carved his name into his forehead with a letter opener. He wanted an open casket for some ******* reason I guess.

You won't see me on the
crisp autumn mornings or
the evenings, the sky filled with
smoke from the paper company's smokestacks

I am not a pedestrian
I am a civil servant
I am the voice of the wrong people who worship dismantled Gods

I am not a janitor
But I will clean up the mess you've made
My commitment may stand; I may be a low-life for the rest of it
but initially my heart, about to burst, was in the right place
Originally, I did this for the right reasons

I am not a flight attendant
Those who operate the vessel will soon find that I've left
Unfortunately they will find me hard to replace
But, I think, that's how this **** goes, sometimes at least

I noticed it first on my shoulder
I woke up and spat it out
Vaguely, it tasted like you; like "it", but more like you

New haunts from old nightmares
Violent, ****** hallucinations govern the past
If history is to repeat itself one more time

Parts of my body can be harvested to fix what has been missing all along
The same parts of my body that plot against me, even when I close my eyes
Are the ones they'll use to "fix me"

"Don't you want to be normal?"

Normality is more foreign than the word could even suggest
If "normal" fits into your story world then I suppose I'll tag along

My genes are sequenced against me, upside down and in reverse
I experience love through methadone filled mouth syringes
And a poisonous aftertaste that will not go away

Stoop to my level
Come on down
See it unfold

Visit my family functions
but vacate the premises
Let it swallow you

Parading around
downtown
and visiting all your favorite stores

I watch you walk
but I have no time to talk
in passing moments
fractured by too much thought
I miss you

I hate you?
eternal scarring friend
We are separated as one

Stoop to my level
Come on down
See it unfold

Taking
but not
talking

Waking
without
walking

Refuse the abuse
and return it to sender

Gearhead
Gearhead
Gearhead
Gearhead
Oh my little
Gearhead
What you've grown
to be
Gearhead
here for all to see
Gearhead
judge accordingly
Gearhead
Gearhead

Look at my inside
are they good enough
for you?
The city
is painted
and named
after you
You don't need a disguise
the way you look will do just fine

Gearhead
Gearhead
Gearhead
Gearhead
Oh my little
Gearhead
Gearhead
what you've grown to be
Gearhead
here for all to see
Gearhead
judge accordingly
Gearhead