Stomach acid bubbles into the mouth and coats the tongue.
Chewed fragments swim in a warm slurry that won’t go down.
The nose floods as sour liquid bursts upward.
Teeth grind through half-dissolved lumps slick with slime.
Clothes trap the stink of bile mixed with sweat.
Each breath tastes of rust, milk turned rotten.

The jaw works while the throat clenches shut.
Chunks slide back, scrape the palate, return again.
Air breaks into coughs drowned by gagging.
The chair shakes with every convulsion of the gut.
Salt water streams from the eyes, blinding the room.
The skin prickles as rancid heat seeps outward.
A sour film sticks to the gums and won’t lift.
The floor glistens with acid that eats the polish.
The tongue swells thick, smothered in bitterness.
Hands tremble as the smell clogs every breath.

The chest jolts empty yet still forces heaves.
Fragments lodge between molars, soft and rancid.
Silence lasts only until the next surge rises.
Memory replays the taste until the body revolts again.

Stomach acid bubbles (I'm in LOVE with this track)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track — only in Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

Stomach acid bubbles (I'm in LOVE with this track)

Terminalose