What is it like to fear?
What is it like to trust?
Why are you there?
Just leave me be.
Isn’t it funny how they sort us into boxes?
Making innovation
run
slower
like molasses
Together we’re compressed under the stress of success
Buckling strain and
twisting with pressure, I’m sure. We gotta make it out of here
And it turns out I’m the evil, encouraging incompetence boxing it up like cheerios
I hate it but it’s true it’s corruption central, cutting class only once but now it’s terminal
Who cares anyway, right is what the people say
never learning through harm progress is the other way
Walking the honeysuckle roads everyday
By the time we wake up under September and the Novocaine
But when the drugs fade away and your friends never stay
Still you should find reasons to live
another day
Lit Mag