by Matt Bruce

"When matters of the mind recoil in tragic form,
masses of whispers pronounce to ring the alarm,

America the matter, America the beautiful so sings the
mouth,
pharmaceuticals to funerals, the intoxication implies winter down south,

Windows can only elude to the anomalies that wait behind, doors can close the world
away from the child with a
beautiful mind,

Pain can chase with haste in a matter of innumerable
varieties,
allowing an illusion into the reality of a synthetic anxiety"...