I am not from here. I was never from here. You gave me a name at birth, but it fits like a stolen coat. My real name is the pause between the snare hits. My real face is the smear of green and black under the stage lights—a warning label with no product behind it.
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
And they are not finished with me yet.
Blisters on my tongue from swallowing their sun. I am not from here
And when the song ends, I don't come back to myself. I just find a different locked room to scream in. My real name is the pause between the snare hits
I am counting the atoms in my own scream.
Functionless. Feral. Free?