In Your Head
2004-04-11 @ 5:19 a.m.
Her feet jump up, grace the ground; they're flying. Then she comes down.
A zombie; she's craving the space in your head. She dances her best in worn imaginations, where her potential becomes kinetic.
She's lightning, and thunder. She's storm, static and grounded; charged, running on inactive inertia.
A zombie; she's hungry for the space inside your head.
She's hungry for the space inside you. So plug in, fucker.
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)