Ink on my arm exploding across my dry skin Cells pre-aging; hereditary Magnifying energies, coldness when my breath is still The bark on the tree gets rigid and frozen Voided spells alter life, hands slide under the gap Have centipedes been inside before? Have centipedes been inside before? Gripping as it holds onto itself It keeps attempting to grow Crack-back echos Naked the scream Two pennies left at the roots Two pennies left at the roots They kneel and dig fingers into the dirt There's no way to push forward To force anything Stop blowing smoke in its face, face, face