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The Jenova

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Shot into the stringent
And stirred with shattered glass
Pitched into yourself
Put back together
But not without scars
No words for the dead
Continue passing embers into the sky
And hold you to
To my heart
For when the clots go dry

One winged hornet stabbing at itself
It's flickering to death
Pinned at the thorax
Loaded with meth
And kept fully conscious
Head cocks ticking
Insides scrambling
In reverse slow time
Running racetracks
It's all you can do
To die on your own terms

Killing all these pieces of myself
And leaving them buried inside you
Unsympathetic
Lcl
These pieces of yourself
That aren't really true

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