I am a reaching reaching arm. Blank. Flat. Dead. I am a tumbling rhino with a bullet for a head. I am a creek creek creeeeeeek door hinge. I am a black and blue orange. I am the freedom sober drug. I am underneath a rug. Blank. Flat. Dead. Pillow for your head. Orange without the red. Rhino with no head. Door with no sound. Arm on the ground. I am the flower in it's palm. Blooming blooming blooming. A twisting fireball. I am everything I'm not. Close the cellar door, fix the lock. In the dark I am the light. I am everything correctly right. I am black and I am white. I am blind with perfect sight. I can see the master plan. Meaning does not exist. Restricted off limit ban. I am shackled at the wrists. A poem leaves my mouth. The truth is coming out. The last half is a lie. From the cellar to the wrists. That all makes to much sence. The truth lies at the start. Where we fumble brain and heart. Trying to make sence. Of things that never did. A cage with no fence. Open the drooping lid. That lies on your forehead. Blank. Flat. Dead. I am a body without limbs. I am whole and without harm. I am a shark that cannot swim. I am a reaching reaching arm.