At the cement wall— cracks form, Pests grow, and blood seeps from its stretched– neglected flesh, Its intestines– pale in tone, cannot hold any more waste. It slowly scrapes. Scalping your intestines intention— ripping holes from within. It's worn light pink walls— Eventually explode, littering it's waste around its abode. Wasps dig inside the microplastic filled sand, in a place of their own. Away from the sun. The day is done– wasps die flittering in the sand below. Wall's kidneys give out– White noise stops filtering. The microplastics. fill its body. At night, the heat rid courtyard, stripped of its color— cracked and contaminated with sand— Has suddenly become cold. The ink, Sinks in the cement. Painted with red The wall sits— Then sun rises again. I'll eat your plastic for you, donate my blood, kill the wasps, patch you up. But only so we can stay tethered forever, Dead together. (It makes a little more sense with the context only I have, sorry)