The atoms are still counting.
I watch you through the visor. You talk with your smooth hands. You laugh with your even teeth. You love with your conditional mercy. And I think: How do you stand the silence inside your own chest? mudvayne alien
There is a rhythm in the breakdown. Not chaos. Anti-chaos. A deliberate unspooling of the spine. I twist my limbs into knots just to feel the tendons sing. Pop. Snap. The sound of a puppet cutting its own strings. The atoms are still counting
Blisters on my tongue from swallowing their sun. mudvayne alien