See, I'm mother?

I see nothing within the reach of my arms.

Glasses fall like frogs and sewers lick at my legs.

I can feel all, and my hands can extend from stones. 

Air forbids the movement of my lungs, for existence that
doesn't exist cannot function in permissible rules. 

And death approaches them, so eagerly, 

To devour the meaningless lives that lingers under 

The bushes of time. 

Squirells are so plump when young

And images on photobucket arouse young men

As unspeakable things are done.

 

Softness of touch 

Protrudes pillows under the moonlit sky,

It slowly dies away like a feeling

That can't be remembered.

My passion for life lingered only 

In those I had left my coins for

And my body crushed itself

In the form of a destiny of the ecosystem.

Nothing can return to what it was meant to be

And all the sacrifices I had made were eaten by 

Good, but hungry dogs that took advantage of the meat 

That served them,

Taking advantage of their education, their birth, and my
death.

 

I can't return,

But I see all.

I see all

And my vision stretches out my body

And pops out my bone joints.

The pain can't be physical

And it can't be healed 

For eternity,

While time passed by 

Under the noses of all my young children.