Bonework

When feeding the ones left breathing It's our only way to live. My minds past growing in the salt, with the bone community. They took my tongue for the things I wanted, but couldn't say. When your taking my child away my colors will surely change. My voice will be the same. Things were never that way again. After they came and left, we're nothing. Your voice is a cannibal. Your child got taken away. Your life is an open wound, exposed to all of those around you