When I look into a mirror in my imaginary world,
I see my face in the form of plastic, melting as it's skewed.
The alphabet is distant and my jaw shudders at the thought of rooms
filled with gold and colors as the fungus in me is consumed.
With this puddle feeling and trees reflected in my wake,
I know I should be sleeping, but my mind is wide awake.
Anything that flashes pulls the wall's breath to sights I can't mistake.
I'm cold and covered in my skin as ideas spill out thin
and the letters slowly gather and my mouth is caving in.
Train-wrecked are my teeth with whatever this might be.
They're pressing inward on my mind as I lose my self in sound.
My teeth are slowly bending, wrecking everything around.