I ventured away from civilization
In search of the source of relaxation
Mother nature and the sheer beauty of her creation
Navigated me through my rehabilitation
The source of my souls exploration
Depended solely upon my transformation
The kind hand of liberation
Just fucking jolt me right out of hibernation
Put on pause this overdosing life of imagination
Light a fire under my ass to drive motivation
I straight up refuse to consume their mutation
While pressed up against a cage which has no ventilation
I bought your panicked symptoms of constipation
Then regurgitated the terms of vapid authentication
Those fables built elaborate stages for my assassination
Riddled with anxieties mirroring this abomination
Who am I don't depend on feelings of protection
What kind of aide would hold up in this generation?
A compounding orphan afflicted distortion
A longing to move away from the mass population
But encased in their grey matter degradation
When my soul cries out in abrupt frustration
How does one exactly change the situation?
Staring at my fucking hands worrying about my reputation
Can someone else start this conversation?
I've never known the combination
My fingers fumbled the information
As always I'm the byproduct of an American education
Starving barely tiptoeing around revelation
Gaze blankly into my interpretation
Breakthrough dances with maturation
I rescued a clue then started a mental excavation
Pushed the reset button in tune with reclamation
Debut a new me despite the years of dehydration
Self-doubt spotlights me upon interrogation
Life has a way of reminding me of my expiration
Gathering my senses, for they hiding about in desperation
Must be all those who played the role of subordination
Result is this decaying mental atmospheric desolation
Forsaken to speak, I never recieved my identification
For all the attempts of individual separation
I'm captivated by my own aspiration
I dove in deep without hesitation
Pulsate between infested devastation
Stripe down versions of controlled alienation
A basic and honest observation
I participate in the face of isolation
They can never take what was already there upon my creation
I won't find, at dawn, birds singing a tune to confirmation
Or be a better human after reading bookmarked quotations
Look at my scars, knotted nerves, they a grossly trademarked manipulation
So I'm sounding the alarm a glowing declaration
My temple took note of the trees reaching for the skies without reservation
And so I stay, listen, and lead, it's my only obligation

© Ava Morris