Home is where the rain is soft and soothing   Home is where the comfort is confusing   Chased and cored like burning bridges   Swallowing the tracks across my head      Always moving in the wrong direction   Animated statue eyes are blinking   Reflex of asphyxiated thinking   Suspended, so much badly destracted   Out of touch I'm out of reach      Struck by a car   Crushed by a tree   Fork in my tongue   Glass in my sleeve   I snap the rope snap the wrist   Here in my inner spiral twist      This is the time when our minds begin stocking   Jammering on when our lips have stopped talking      Simple people, simple needs   Fingers linger endlessly   Trolling benediction bells   Here encircling spirals twist      Always moving in the wrong direction