.

Perhaps I'm wrong and it's
Romantic:
If I peel back a layer
I can see my heart beating
Shuddering under the new weight of the air
But the only response is fear
Disgust
A loathing that I crush underfinger
But the breakneck is too near
And if I scrub some more then it's
Possible to find new life
Even if old death is what I crave
In a hollowed out and fleshy cave
Covered in a fine white fuzz
New ions could even take the stage
Belligerent and red with rage rebelling from my fingernails