Meet Me at the Bottom

Curl up and die, replenish what was wasted. Stye in the eye, puncture homeostasis; I've declined forward progression. He's cooking craxk in the kitchen, paper balls scattered about, as we walk and chase the trails with plastic straws. Classic lines for unsettled closure, we beat the heat with paranoia I eat your splinters off of aluminum foil. Pinch the skin to release and let boil.