Period Piece

Failed every period
 Did baroque badly
 Afraid of blood
 Dream was too lonely
 I chose keeping it together
 In these Ikea white walls
 Of my post-[?] silence
 But only desire is real
 I must find some kind of art form
 Where I can tow my [?]
 Back from the underground
 Back from the underground
 There are multitudes
 There are multitudes
 In the doctor's office
 Speculum pulls me open
 Spacing the space
 Accidental sci-fi
 Regulating
 My aperture
 Measure my [?]
 Some people find it painful
 But all I feel is connected
 All I feel is connected
 There must be some kind of art form
 Where I can pour my blood
 There are multitudes
 There are multitudes
 There are multitudes
 Don't be afraid
 It's only blood