O Jarhead! O Wife!

I gave birth to body white
 Collected to my thighs
 Held her there, between my legs
 And brought my knees up high
 And she slid out, I don't know how
 She slid out, I don't know how
 And you left your meat, all in the leaves,
 Gathering sweat from the graves
 And you body cistern, I brought you a sister
 From what holes I could not crave
 But I'll go and be brave
 I'll go and be brave
 I only have faith in what is good
 And what is good
 I knew a boy who built an aviary
 He gathered all the wood that he could carry
 I pulled from his chest again
 Blind from the bees
 And we exchanged helium,
 Because we're tired of ceilings
 I found him blocked out, like a jarhead
 His antlers fall seaweed from an ocean bed
 And he carried carvings of his own geography
 But had he stabbed his own eyes out so he couldn't see
 I said, 'I don't wanna be your wife.'
 I couldn't stand to do this my whole life
 My breast milk is heavy,
 And you don't have the strength to help me with this baby.
 And where do we pull out of each other
 I ask you if you can tug me off
 You ask me if I can push you out
 You ask me if I can push you out
 Like one wood fire, and drag this shit from each other
 All the fluids, from your mother.
 I can barely stand, in your late disease again
 With your vomit up to my waist
 And in the hospital they asked me
 If I know where your parts go
 But I tell them your body isn't made from skin they know