from inside this plastic casket i took my first breath and choked on it
i thought if im loud enough maybe
they'll open it up

so i sang for centuries until they unzipped the bag so i could see
the world which i awaited was the same thing

is there a mother, does she carry my brothers?
is she pregnant with more blank canvases?
is there an artist who can stab his brush through the fabric and tear open their chests and fix such an unfixable mess?

i must defend that im not a corpse
but a newborn
because no matter how loudly i sang you still mourned

but i still sang for centuries until they unzipped the bag so i could see
the world which i awaited was the same thing