Nails

Dirt beneath the fingernails too deep to even pick it

Burned into the retinas phantom memories of sickness

Cursed for all eternity, translucent in its finish

Bubbling intrusions, can't believe the clock is ticking

And it's picture perfect hurricanes approach on the horizon

Carrying the wreckage and remains of old Poseidon

Finally accept whats being scraped across the eyelids

Can't take away the pain, thats not to say for lack of trying

And they're trying to adapt a maladaptive insurrection

Of avoidance and escapist tactics draped in misdirection

Magician gloves for sucking thumbs and duck and dodge the question

Smoke it to the filter, gargle choke on this congestion