I simmer my lashes away while I sleep in a lair of poppyseed

Venoms wrapped around my neck

Now only I’ll aspirations of gasping on the barbed vine I’ll grow

With the ghost of floral scent

Just to be woken up by another groggy balefully stale day

To lack a collar or lead

Blink days In and days out but still no wings have grown as I slowly peck

And time continues to slow

But it never fully stops humming like a broken withered out vent

Mists Leaving my thoughts to stray

Not eating can’t catch a blink of thought maybe I’ll improve and succeed

Fine as long as you don’t check

My tired face and my limbs nowadays looking more like lifeless slow dough

In my words worth not a cent

My Every word in an old dance performing like dried out useless clay

Instead my tongue will retreat

I’m only cracked porcelain And I know I can promise I’m not a wreck

Always backstage in the show

Clanking away at my cracks with the hands on my back forever bent

So sleep in a homestay