Oh, I know that sentence reeks of vanity
ia prismatic reflection of juvenile fantasy
prisms plastered on my walls spinning
girls in makeup and masks all grinning
stares glued on plastic, on white acrylic teeth
white washing eras of black burning chemistry

A watery seed I could not seek in art
in telling stories or fortunes or beating red hearts
how could it be real, when everyone thinks
air rushing past anyone must make them blink
I hear the static, this soul's pleasant stirrings
ignoring the fragments of my head, whirring

Animal kaleidoscope
images colliding
of Lea's spiraling
her blatant pornography
on my flesh canvas
on anger sprawling
on my world ending
I feel it in the buckshot spread on my neck,
And she lift herself up
giggling and glowing
and watching me, dazed
she smiling all the time
stillness leaping
in the images
in hastening nights
won't apocalypse
knock on
everyone’s
shoulder?

Well everything's splintered and shattered from here
it’s confusing and bruising and sticky with tears
honest white light distorted through prisms
but they’re beautiful creatures, glowing blue prisons
flashing in patterns and messes of lines
illusions created by lust and by time

I hope it’s chemical
I hope it's chemical
I hope it’s chemical
Oh I hope it is not me, is not me, oh I
hope it’s chemical
that keep resounding through my thoughts
I hope it’s chemical
or I hope it’s the fingers from God’s hand
I hope it’s chemical
or I hope it’s heartbreak
I hope it’s chemical
or I hope it’s heartbreak