"There's more than one kind of truth." Gurder shrugged. "I might say, you're just a lot of dust and juices and bones and hair, and that's true. And I might say, you're something inside your head that goes away when you die. That's true too.”
Terry Pratchett, Wings.
The doctor put his hands around my neck/I’ve never been so close to choking on myself/He said “you need a rest”/like I need religion/my grandmother prays more me/Saint Bede went missing/I skipped P.E. for a year.
I’m mostly bones, I’m mostly liquid, I’m mostly air.
You bruise as easily as I do/I never saw myself undressed in front of you, but here we are/running through the symptoms/of my allergies and open wounds/stolen magazines from waiting rooms.