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Pincushion

Where the air hangs like the static of a dead end radio

I'm waiting with a frozen pulse

Crawl into an empty womb, don't raise these dead

They've found their God in soilDry scab silhouette's tell the secrets of sewn mouths

My heart is a sore but even charred faces crack smiles

Mismanufactured, screaming like some faulty machinery

The overwhelming inefficiency of infantsArtificer stead me now, you've sewn a machine

You've birthed an abortion, the corpse of God is love

I'm rotting and I'm not yet dead, I'm the king of worms and I'll have your head

Resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin, I swear, I've never been here beforeEveryone but me looks like they've seen a ghost

All eyes fall on collapsing statues, stop pointing, stop laughing

There's nothing to see here, everybody try to relax

Everybody please remain calm

(I'm not supposed to be here anyway)

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