Luyện nghe bài hát Bible Belt

There are nights, so vacant and hushed, I can feel the texture of my tattered soul moving within me. Black tar, dripping, sticky and thick. A soft, slow secretion of indifference slopping the hollow suit I use as a body.

They say these are the words of a mind.

But not I.
To me, is insurgency.

I used to dream of being inside the womb. Fetal universe, black holes and emptiness. Orbiting the massive planet of my mother's booming heart. Tiny yolk body, tethered like an astronaut, adrift in the tranquil spume of desolate bliss. Tiny fingers inching from chubby stems, reaching for that great thumping whoosh of blood and power that wobbles like a snarling god above me. My fibrous head, translucent as a bell jar, would search with great staring eyes into the godless dark for a light, for a sign, for anything other than indifference. But the universe would never oblige.

Look upon me: a of a child and a monster.

Frozen without cold, feeling nothing, unsure, uninspired, veins full of air, soul into the umbra.

Who are they to say is moral when they are broken?
Who are to say anything about us?

All this, all this,
And I to sledgehammer
And leave but dust

To
To
To

by a Bible Belt
Strangled by a Bible
by a Bible Belt
Strangled by a Bible
Strangled by a Bible
by a Bible Belt