There is a stirring in my chest, an elation I will not and cannot resist. There was once a moment where all of life stood still and my feet grew heavy barren heavy. Completely empty and ready to fall. There is a fire down below where the depths of sight canβt grow. It still feeds off my worried brain like a fetus planted hover-vein. The Venus Fly Trap sets its will spiked teeth ready, for the ****. There is a place where spider webs and crawling things fit for nub ebb. All my flagrant floppy body deteriorates, demotivates, deregulates into a monster of the fiendish kind one where holographic glass goes blind. there is a feed that ***** in silt it still eats grits, their shiny pelt slimy, sloshes, ready, in frigid watersβ under-grin. Come follow me, dear Venus Trap into a submarine unsnap there is a blooming in my groin where dead things lay there shivering.