I'm here to rest,
allegedly here to float strain
but my nails remain feeble
infirm
decrepit
I lust and long for an
explicit crusade
I beseech
warily
for a map to pilot this dehydration
a quest for humidity during my
days of which shade
remains scarce
raising my skin
every vein billowy to embrace
for the
sensuality of pain has casted a void of solitude
of which my
sanity can endure for only a
finite number of days
I lust for the dispersal of this fever
and
to the sun and its heat I subside it's fury
to the west
I bury and pursuit to forget the 12 hours I have left
lean
undernourished
hungry for a frenzy
but
God did not forename
the complication of a skull
my brain
has arms and legs
there is a brain inside of my brain
deadly
persists the length of its
fingernails
I admit
and believe, in truth
must profoundly exist