Sometimes it feels like my thoughts are rolling backwards,
entangling and twisting, like nefarious hackers.
Why does it feel like the calm makes me crazy,
the soft chatter of people, my mind feels so hazy.
When did screaming fuck become so cathartic?
I’m tired of hearing that I’m just neurotic.
Why do adults walking by look so empty?
Soulless men drive overpriced Bentleys.
Botoxed mothers whose eyes scream free me,
swiping cards, they wonder what could be.
I don’t want to be another hollowed-out person,
overworked and underpaid by society’s coercion.
I don’t want to manage stress for the rest of my life,
this monotonous motion, where popping pills is rife.
Show me wild, wonderous and those who dare fiery,
Escaping the picket fence should be our priority.
Feeling alive should be no prerogative,
This submission to sinking is fucking provocative.
