The muscles in my face can do a lot of different things, and many of those things revolt against my personal will. Lava bubbles ’neath my skin, my lips dance into a rigid smile- no, not a rigid smile? An elastic smile, unelastic smile? A smile that is held up by geysers in the ground. Yes. Rigid? No, not rigid, not elastic, and it’s not unelastic. Sorry, I’m confused, it’s just unstable, ever-changing.
Lava muscles: bubbling, twitching (??? eyes are bloodshot, not a wink of sleep), my face is glowing, my heart is soaring, and my flesh turns into a dry wrinkled sheet.
There is grinning and my eyes now feel like, “oh no, something’s wrong, we’re bleeding, there’s some disconnect-” the disconnect!
There are lips, and there are eyes! Both disconnected from the face. Disconnected from the flesh. Disconnected from the meat, the face is lava or it’s beef and blood leaks out from the pupils, but never escaping. That would be too sad a sight, and my sight’s not sad, I’m quite happy, I’m glowing. The lava is glowing, and my muscles are glowing, I’ve been grinning so hard that my face has started burning.
Lava is muscles? Lava flows beneath my feet? Muscles are lava? Muscles flow beneath my feet? Muscles flow beneath my skin, and my face flows, my face says, “I want to go. I’m done with all of this, and I’m leaving for good.” And the lava bubbles up, and I am stuck. Stuck at home. Because nobody should witness this, and nobody should see. Some wonders in this world are just too awful to set free.