The Vulture

The Vulture
Do you ever wish you'd never been born? That's me.
My lips are parting like sweet sorrow
I taste it
I hear the whimpering, the silence then the sigh
The little ugly voice is stifled underneath my body
I feel it kicking in my stomach while it dies

Ask me how dying feels so good
Do you ever wish you'd never been born?
Ask me
Do you ever wish you'd never been born?
That's me
The resonance becomes a fist and numbs my face, my teeth, my backbone
I'm learning that it gets easy to shut it out
And soon the life comes leaking out, it throws in death and dies alone
Tastes like copper losing taste smeared on my mouth
So speak to me my little child
You dying baby
Stooped in ink, formaldehyde, the bubbles pop
Why can't you grow?
I want to know
Am I so far gone?
Just writhing in the dirt
I'm lost and going on