Nothing Smells Like Heart

overprotective like ink in a scar tissue you said I'm stuck in a bad version of a life and gave me your life mask as a present now I have an owl in my iris you've cloak me in aluminum foil so I can be preserved for later and settled in the last drawer to watch patiently how you consume some other, tender pieces as my vascular system hinders your digestion waiting hidden under this metal sheet through cheap fragrances I'm covering the indications of putrefaction just in case you decide to place one more plate mine but you've settled me in the last drawer where surfaces freeze the most of our muscles to the bones bones become unsteady a fire whirl has thrown us out of balance now we're seeking desperately for solid ground to lean back as the option of leaning on one another is off the table