So I build my own gravity. Spasms become sentences. The bass groove is a spine I crawl up. The kick drum is a second heart—ugly, irregular, alive.
So I spit it out.
And when the song ends, I don't come back to myself. I just find a different locked room to scream in. mudvayne alien
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? So I build my own gravity