There is this quiet
and persistent voice
in my head -
quiet enough not to be heard
in everyday life, but
persistent enough to be an
agonizing stitch -
that tells me that society is wrong,
that it is backwards,
that its morals are convoluted,
and only when I am surrounded
by the sounds of nature -
the rushing of water,
the chirping of birds,
the buzz of insects -
and not civilization
can I hear it
without agony.