I want to go back home.
we live in boxes.
We stare at boxes.
We exit boxes get into moving boxes that deliver us to a different box.
Where we ship boxes.
We look through windows as if they were paintings.
I've been in a box whose windows literally were paintings.
We **** ourselves over pieces of paper.
Even the precious metals are overlooked for this paper.
My body hurts,
I'm confused.
It's like I'm lost in my own box
And I want to go back home.