Comatose Lover

I'm walking the 118 grooves on the edge of a dime,
the one you kept with the pizza shop gumball and the liquor store reciept
I'm hiding between the place where you can't even reach, though blood and spit proceed
You put your lips on my eyes like my priest
and waited for me to be free
but you took that when you baptized me

I'm not your Little Albert experiment,
I'm your comatose lover,
all wrapped up in seeds
prepared for you to eat
Please come and validate me
or violate me
or put me under your eyelids so only you can see the mess
of atoms that make my body

You are echoeing in my stomach, removed from my hull
some noble inspecting my fingernails for residue
of things that pure eyes can see
Some inclination to dispose of this
or program some new model
with no body
only the feeling of goosebumps and whats between my thighs

You can bait your lines with me
and leave the rest for the bulls
or keep the dime as my token
or sit on my chest and strangle the life from me
and spit on the eyes you kissed
I'm just not free inside of all of this