“Displaced.”

Alone.

tootough toomuch tooloud, hurt, hurt, hurt, happypill

killthepill killtheswitch too two, to-do, make

me pretty like Pandora—open it now

open the box&cry; I cry, happyagain

Not lonely. It’s

a loud mouth upstairs

In the attic above my neck

Why    should I be silent?

Your corporate streets aren’t.

Your skies clad in grey—

Your concrete jungle,

Your homeless youth,

Is that not depressing?

Medicating my soul, nah.

Medicate this sick world.

Don’t touch my hands,

they are built for love.

Crumble I do, like

the soft skin of a cloud

Fears rain down on me, yeah

Why shouldn’t they?

Look at the world you killed.

I was born in it.

Yeah, it's a loud mouth cry

My mind is a reflection

Of a social massacre.

Revere them; this is

the work of God.