Walked away from the world, save for luscious green
and cigarette smoke, I wonder what makes her ***;
what makes him stare mockingly over his glass
when I tell him that the system is broke.

Walked away from the world with an acoustic guitar
and notes like foundation, pressed to the corners of the walls;
the inside of my skull.

I cannot find my way out.

Walked away from the world, save for stubborn breath
and stubborn weeds poking out of the concrete in the streets;
what makes them break out for the sunlight,
what makes me crave for retreat?

Walked away from the world without a direction,
notebooks of freedom, seasonal depression;
the fork in my tongue.

I cannot find my way out.