you are cold
and feel more like home than Stanford does
some days
I wonder if I know this place better than my own school town
Probably
I’ve made myself a space among the places that move
Where no one else stays
For too long
I watch people come and go like rip tides
Listen to voices of people I cannot see
Peoples who need to be heard
And aren’t any other way
This is where the voiceless come to follow
To listen
To break beneath the weight of fake marble floors
Stainless piallars
Come to watch the sleek travel into forever
I am in the place where no one stays
Not for too long
On chair that only hold you for a couple hours before you feel the needs to run
Far far away
Too home or a place that looks enough like it for now
Today I want to write a song by a white boy onto the inside of my fingertips
Want to sing like on ones looking
But everyone here is always starring
Wondering where the worlds going
And why so fast
That’s the plight of flight I suppose
We’ve got to keep moving
We don’t know what else to do
What else will prove that we are still alive
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