On a garden tree of hardened leaves
slithers a centipede anemone
claiming to be a friend of me
sprouting wings splendidly
flying to the Nth degree ahead of me
until I can no longer see
where the wronger flee
behind a Chris Pronger screen
giving me the stronger steam
to bomb the seed.

Crushed in a slow time racing pattern continuously moving backwards

We can only live while we lose

Emotionally losing our minds as we portray many personas like actors

In a lake bed who will forever chase the goose

What sound does the centipede make while it crawls in your ear

Try your best to stay alive

With all these failing circuits

Then realize it doesn't matter the situation

You still won't be liked

Like you use to be

Beauty is skin deep

And bones are lovely

So sit and let it burrow deep

My centipede

Even enthusiasm can heal

But not regenerate wounds by far

They just turn into scars

How deep the centipede seeps 

It won't make you weep