"I've noticed you cry a lot."
Yeah, that's me. On the wardrobe
door floating on the Atlantic. Except
nobody's noticed the ship's sunk.
I think they're reclining on lidos,
like the water is warm for them.

A tsunami rushing up side streets—
life flows on, collecting things.
Stops for no one and if you fall
you're dragged along until
you find your feet.
I'm drowning here, nobody else
has noticed the swell.

I've pressed paused on a stopwatch,
trying to grasp at a flimsy reality.
They're still all doing the motions,
I'm stuck still refusing to speak.
My friends are strangers in the street,
they're all calm in the madness.
Maybe the chaos is all in my head,
time carries on for everyone but me.