Turn the glass doors off
Negative fifty gamma
Slamming my fists against the stanzas
Hoping the blood takes shape
Pour my viscera
Out of my sternum
Emptying this vessel of its organs
And praying for silence

The gates are too bright
I cannot stop the light from finding my eyes
Why do I have to realize this existence
No one can enjoy this
Hope I see you soon
Before the end of my commitment to matter
Is this really everything that
There is to experience?

My joy will come and go
Like the waves lapping abandoned beach houses
It slips away like sands from the fingers
Of my children
Her laughter fills my head
It's the only sound that keeps me tethered to consciousness
I only hear it over a phone line
It doesn't seem real

Turn the glass doors off
Negative fifty gamma
Slamming my fists against the stanzas
Hoping the blood takes shape
Pour my viscera
Out of my sternum
Emptying this vessel of its organs
And praying for silence

Sepia or greyscale
Black, white, ultraviolet
The surge of life is pale
Happiness is violent
Wind in empty fields
A skipping stone in hand
Gliding past ocean tides
Or in the ghost of man
A body like a jail
With hair instead of curves
What purpose is it here for?
Which calling does it serve?
These arms lack definition
Legs that don't go far enough
A crack leaking the passion
A firewall for love

Turn the glass doors off
Negative fifty gamma
Slamming my fists against the stanzas
Hoping the blood takes shape
Pour my viscera
Out of my sternum
Emptying this hollow shell of ***
I pray for euphoria