'Underground Network Alternative Communication' 

My friends they understand me but my life makes no sense. I wish I had volumes to explain where I went. 

I've found flowers are words so now I grow books, as pretty as angels with dark eyes like hooks.

I spend all my time building cities in my mind and open my eyes I find I'm still blind. 

In darkness I wait until I am dead, just to be reborn and re read what I said.