merely a stuffed animal

Cotton fills the air
fills my soul
it's useless garb,
it's garbage.

dress myself in cotton
and stuff it down my throat,
we shall become lifeless
if that is what we want
if that is all we see,
if we don't shut our mouths
and throw up violently;
the poison-cotton inside our skin.

this is where new life begins.

Cotton fills the air
fills my lungs,
shall I stop breathing?
or shall I seek oxygen?

The answer seems simple,
but in all truth,

this cotton tastes like candy,
and my soothsayer soul
tells me I'll be better off
without veins; heart; mind;

but hold me now--
speak to me
so I can remember
that I have been
breathed
into;

Help me see what you see,
oh God. help me believe.