I tear my way through the earth. Tense and timid. Anxiety sleep. Hands calloused and worn. My work will speak for itself. It pounds in my head. Shackled sincerity. I am calloused and worn. Dirt crusted nails. Sowing the desolate. My skin of endless rust. Brittle and rotten. It claws. It scars. Straying from myself. Shackled sincerity. I am calloused and worn. Heartless self. Uncaring home. Blaming the world for all bitterness. Wither to black, nowhere in bloom.