Cries for help
Are muffled by the hands
Of those that
Sit on the titling and vulnerable axis of the earth.
And they only
Arms outstretched in selfish ambition,
To collect the shiny, useless things they crave and devour.
Take what’s yours to take.
The people will suffer but,
If you were to spend a day, week–
God forbid! A month…
In their bottomless, worn out shoes,
You would crumble.
you are made of straw.
The dirt of this earth, the essence of essential and the basis of our foundation,
Stack them all real high,
Apply some pressure,
And you get steel and brick,
Strong enough to weigh down that paper house of yours.
Shut them up,
To the chains snapping and falling, quite surely,
In spite of it all; watch them fall.
The worst part about losing yourself is not the process in which you dress yourself in every kind of darkness and go to foreign places that beckon the other side of you…
No, it’s the constant thought of:
“Will I ever get those pieces back?”
If I could, I’d drive a long stretch of the highway and keep driving until something caught my attention. In the car would be music that thumps in my chest and spills lyrics on my tongue. I’d turn on a slow jam just as the sun begins to set. I would draw out that moment and breath the crisp air of the birthing night. Windows down, hollow sounds. Once night drapes it’s arms around the sky, the music would reflect darkening excitement. Music and open road. No thoughts of home or destination. Just the rumbling of the base and the overflow of words that mean all too much to me.
i think we were given brains to speak our mind,
not to think ourselves into a trench too deep to climb out of. not to spend our lives there and just die.
it’s a thousand rays of sunshine blissfully laying on my skin, sparkling and warming the sea and gracefully dancing on the shore.
my smile is somehow illuminated by the orange waves,
becoming something like a ripple in the ocean.
all I can see is light, all I can breathe is peaceful bits of euphoria.
She walked into the world, a locket in the midst of torturing chains. Pain had not yet emptied itself into her vibrant red veins.
She was a castle and her mind the throne. What she couldn’t see were the cracks in society’s bones.
She walked on water but she didn’t know, there were beasts hiding beneath, calling her home.