Open Wounds

There are bullets embedded in the cartilage of my corazon. Ah. Pain is somehow insubstantial. Revolutionized, I am like the spinning of clock hands, like the rolling of a die, like death and life.
Rebirth me, breathe in me, reshape my bronchial tubes.
There is nothing more I can do. There is nothing more I can say. I'll just keep this vinyl playing on my record player. I'll just reread these words as monotone as I can get the syllables but yet that's not who I am.
I am verbose. I am recycling ideas but on different views.
I am turbo, I am maximum velocity, I am threadbare, I am worn.
Rugged carpet planted underneath my bare feet, soul substantial, meek, give me this relief, please stop me stop me stop me
drowning again I'm not breathing oxygen I am
trapped in state of mind state of learning state of existence
I just want to be happy
can't you see I just want to live free
I don't want these worries
nor this heart ache
nor this disease
nor carpal tunnel.