Mouthful Of Precious Stones - The Red Chord

Fed through the teeth machine.

Row after row of dysmorphic minerals

All the things that I have seen, drowning in my reflection

Bleed from sores that reach out to everyone in the room

Touched by sepsis, cradled in a mountain of bone

I pretend not to notice that we belong in the same room

We touch the same door handle and drink from the same fountain

I’m repulsed.

Sickening drive to cultivate loathing

I dishonest nod and grin as we pass in the streets

Eater!

Nashing pit full of bracing.

Tangled in a tortured sickness

Search your soul.

Unlock the treatures

Crossing through those pearly gates that exit to that special place

We belong in the same room.

Smiling in my reflection

Bound tight by nerve endings and veins;

Wound just like nooses

To dissuade my confusion

We touch the same door handles and drink from the same fountain

I am repulsed by this mouthful of precious stones