Boxes!

Little boxes
How's that song go
They're supposed to be
Filled with ticky-tacky
Now we sit here
Boxed for hours, our
Eyes a shifting
Send me a picky-packin'
Backward
To a time when
Fruits of labors
Walls of tangible tapestries
Curated
By a gal who
Likes theater
Sits affixed
Til she can clippy-clap
A world where
She's a stranger
Crowded trains define her
Only by her passing musings

Pour me out
Pour me out
Pour me out
Pour me out
Pour me out
Pour me out

Anonymity
Bustling city
Now her name labels her box
She can't avoid their pity
She once flew free
Flew for hours, our
Eyes a shifting
Watching as she caught on fire
A world where
She could be both
Flames and vapors
Clear, transparent, yet projecting sparks
But now here
In this gallery
Though not the type she's always
Filled with others' works of art
A chance to
Question that freedom
To feel amorphous in a world
Built on distorted wisdom

Fill me up
Fill me up
Fill me up
Fill me up
Fill me up
Fill me up

Little boxes
Labeled faces
Structured, organized, and
Clear/intentional spaces
Words of release
Of invitation
Each voice arises
Grounded in familiar aeration
Breathing air that
Reminds us who we are
Each box begins to fall apart
We're really not so far
And look now
How full we feel
Within this portal
Realizing it's a cosmic deal
A chance to
Craft new connections
Our little boxes gave us space
To choose a new direction

Wrap me up
Wrap me up
Wrap me up
All I am
All I am
All I am
It's all ours
It's all ours
It's all ours
It's all ours
It's all ours
It's all ours



Credits
Writer(s): Austen Bohmer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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