the jump start of a half heart pump from a full night's slumber
fills needles in my muscles of numbing tranquilizer
my tiny rat stomach starts in a sink
making pollack with a vanilla nuclear malt mix
but it's really just vomiting wisps of butterfly souls
i feel the shape form this invisible hole
there's no wind, there's hardly a vent
and i'm vomit-prone, and paranoid and lost in a knotted labyrinth
pinching the stomach valve righty tight, holding on
pressure cooking, building mystery in pipe bomb
shh.. keeping it swallowed down is my obedience
plus i cant pronounce these hieroglyphs for ingredients
i woke to alarms injecting my inner ear piercing loud
disrupting my perfect painting of cute cursive clouds
wake to find im confined in silver fogs of druggie chemical
stretching into a gray to black with hairline light slivers
theres few ducts to sniff in my sights, i need leads
i've barely placed my veins on the line for these three
if there's no cannon big enough to puncture the deadbolts
i'll detonate when our eyes meet peeking through the vent hole
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