He was looking to the outside
His belly quite full
But with 5 comes the emptiness
As per the clockwork rule

"Like fingers down my lungs,"
The young boy notices
"Like stroking up the wrong way
On the strings of violins"

"Why do this?" asked the boy
The window: no reply
The sound of which gave echoes
To the form of his insides

His lobes began to spasm
And he begged the spell to pass
And his quivered vision occupied
With lust of shattered glass

The bare walls beared along
And then bore down on him
Are broken bodies buoyant?
Better be; he cannot swim

"Like fingers down my lungs,"
The young boy now made cry
"I can feel those curving tracks
As they course through my insides"

"Why choose me?" asked the boy
Pressed firm against the sill
And that jack-o-lantern window
Made it clear that all was still