I had this friend, he liked to scream
(every kind of scream)
He screamed at police cars, screamed at incoming phone calls
He screamed at the mirror, screamed for ice cream
He screamed over the sound of the vacuum, under the sound of collapsing walls
Sometimes the sound gathered crowds
(it was a truly remarkable sound, never even slightly modest, entirely desperate)
He screamed his nightmares, screamed at those pills
He screamed at his feet, he screamed at the clouds
He screamed at my hands, at the dust gathering on window sills
He screamed his laughter
(what a *****, haunting melody)
He screamed my secrets, screamed into the carpet
He screamed at the ball drop, before, during, and after
He screamed at that word, screamed at a kiss on the television set
He screamed that he wasn’t crazy
(through the crack under the door)
But they sent him away anyway
They told me he wasn’t real
I know that’s a lie because I can still hear him
is happiness the unquestionable right?