The sunflower drooped its head in sunshine
There is static on the radio
My lips are sewn shut with my own intestines
My blood putting out the flames of Helios
I'm slithering on the ground in toil
Dirt beneath my nails
I lay on my back on moist soil
My weaknesses, can I prevail?
I spread out my arms and fall back
I'm falling like the plates thrown from the roof
I can't make up for all that I lack
And this is my proof.
