I, this crowd
Whose legion is not demons
But ghosts
Ghosts made in my mind
They’ve traveled foreward in time.
I, this crowd.
I carry the weights
I am a pathchwork thing.
A frankenstien thing.
A summation:
I, this crowd.
Who I am
Is not who I was
And who I was
Is foreverwithme
I, this crowd
The boysmenchildren-crowd
Whisperwhisperwhisper.
I, this crowd
Except it is like this
Whisperwhisper whisper
Quiet-loud, so quiet-loud
Sometimes it drowns out
Screams Screams Screams
I, this crowd
Except it is like this:
Screams Screams Screams Screams Screams Screams
I this crowd
Not me,
It is not me that screams
(except that it is They are me now.)
They were once everyone else.
But when you speak-yell-beg-scream
Screams Screams Screams Screams
They keep going, echos made alive
I, this crowd.
The screams kept going echoes made alive and grew screamers.
And I, this crowd
This crowd Screams Screams Screams Screams whisper
I can not hear myself
There is no peace there is know peace
I can not hear myself
I, this crowd
Lost and alone and the scream and the whisper (whisper whisper whisper)
I have this dream
That I will walk away
I will leave this crowd
To whisper, to scream
Among themselves
