Look at my lips move. Look at my skin blanche. Feel the heat from my neck, slick. Check out the marks left by the sun, they might kill me someday. Listen to me yell. I yell so loud. My yell is like a thousand nuclear dragons screaming. Look at my wry fucking smile. Do you get what it's all about? How, sometimes, it's 'I don't hear so well' and sometimes it's 'I could give two shits what you're saying' ... sometimes both. Can I carve through the layers of meat that cover the intricacy of my damaged insides? Breathe my breath, look at the scars on my tongue. I get them at night, teeth gnashing in my sleep, tongue clamped between busted teeth. You think that's bullshit, I bet.