Somebody call the carpenter, tell him there are bugs crawling under your skin and you need to be resurfaced. He won’t be home though, and when he calls back you won’t answer. The bugs can be your new best friends, maybe they can weed out the bad blood, give you transfusion of theirs. You’re bound to be the same blood type. You’re both small and insignificant after all.
Or is this another late night, early morning, coffee driven sailor’s warning to bail out before the storm? Baby there’s a sinking ship and you’re on it, but you aren’t the one who can walk on water, you have to swim.
Honey that’s a cut there, and the sharks smell blood. They’re coming for you. Why aren’t you moving? Get out of your head and get away, don’t stop now, daylight might be fading but tomorrow’s on it’s way. Just keep heading for dawn.
Do you remember what a sunrise is? You’re supposed to wake up to them.
Why aren’t you answering?
There’s a mason out there somewhere who can chisel away at your heart of stone. You don’t have to keep throwing rocks to ripple the surface of the water. We see you. Your head can’t break through the surface. And with all that ice inside no one can hear you scream.
Not to mention from point a to point b is a poisonous sea of anthrax filled tea because honey scares me. Sweetness turns sour as dawn fades to dusk, don’t forget the warning that you’re not the one to trust.
Stop tugging and pulling and pushing away, breathe, let it out, that’s what they all say. But take the wire scraps just left lying around, See if you can keep your feet on the ground while they poke and prod their way into your skin. Now it’s not just bugs but metal within.
Slowly you’re fading, it’s so hard to see, do you know this person? Or are they just a memory?
