keep me broken and slow me down
split my petals and dull my color
life means nothing without suffering
and I've meant nothing without you
I'm a pessimistic soldier
McCarthy's fire on hills of empty
a beast of disgusting proportions
reduced to a painted smile
on the thinnest tin face
I'm crawling like wax on the carpet
slowing
slowing
and drying to plastic unmoving
meaning and knowing nothing
but the feel of broken tin.