They stacked it up to the ceiling.
Jumbled and cluttered with their feelings.
Tripping over immature and insecure nonsense.
Breaking our backs over others limited sensibilities.
The oppression of what some people refuse to think or see.
You wanted to lock yourself away in a box.
Cage yourself from the weight of this cold war.
We’ve had enough of our society’s containers and assumptions of our characters.
That will continue to be the order, but our minds have to walk their own way.
You won’t buckle from the strain.
You feel you’ve been divided, but you’ve always had a shield and armor on your back.
There was never anything to worry about, because I’ll always be willing to follow you out.
Stenographer For My Thoughts 