Family - Relo

A skull that’s crushed

beneath the boot of a working man.

I watched

from afar where I hadn’t woken yet.

A sour sweat that’s set

around my hair and in my heart.

Today.

A chance to follow

and see what sets us apart.

You take me home in your car.

You drive while I look at the stars

from here in your backseat,

where I don’t dare to make

a sound for fear that you would hear

and leave me alone in the dark.

Tonight it hurts.

I’m hiding, sobbing underneath you stairs.

Muffled

by these cold, thin, six-figure-income walls.

Your kids look so happy to be

alive by a fire and a tree.

And I’m part of your family

whether you know it or not.

I’m glad to live my life

out through a hole in your wall.