The Visible Head

We solve with our fists bring us down to dirt
More worthless than salt, our bodies are hurt
Beaten bleeding hands reveered as kings
The names they collect, the pain they will bring

I've walked in the woods with stones in my hands
The surface of me to them is a man
Holding onto how the world sees me
Am I letting go of the object to be

Incepted ideas, dislocated parts
The mental unknown will tear me apart
Master of the things I try to be
These goals I've assumed, do they represent me

I want to see the visible head
Returning to me, return from the dead
Thoughts and ideas reflect into me
What's left of myself but anxiety

I need to feel true and identify
This head off my neck and blood in its mind

Its flesh it may crawl, its stance it may break (I need to find myself again)
I'll call unto me whatever it takes (The love I lost will be my end)

To peel back my scabs and loosen my grip (This heart of mine feels like a tack)
My guts falling out their slow ooze and drip (It cuts into the things I lack)

I can't recall, I never have (It's full of hope and drowned in time)
Who is that arm, what is my plan (My patient head corrupts my mind)

Where does it start, who does it end (I'll change into my hollow bones)
Why will it hurt, when will it bend (To open up this empty home)