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Literature Text
the brave kids
tore them in half
& the pretty
screamed
but it was a secret for us
that the other
side
was really blue &
worms had
ten
hearts
there was a note
of cruelty
in salt water & drowning
being torn
apart
for the benefit of the
species
so we came with a solution:
live forever
or
tear the wings &
bleed them out
tore them in half
& the pretty
screamed
but it was a secret for us
that the other
side
was really blue &
worms had
ten
hearts
there was a note
of cruelty
in salt water & drowning
being torn
apart
for the benefit of the
species
so we came with a solution:
live forever
or
tear the wings &
bleed them out
Literature
Words for the Young Bloods
Words for the Young Bloods:
To all my ninjas sittin' low on the street side,
I want you all to raise your head with pride.
Because I'm callin' out, for the youth to come together
And get those big wigs off the fuckin' power ladder.
You ready? Because we're going at it hard:
See I'm the kind of guy that they're all playin' with
A systematic crisis workin' in the way we live.
The big shots still sittin' and they growin' fat.
With young bloods starvin' just to get their life on track.
We take psychometric tests and make a passing grade,
But ain't no job cause the corporate head is gettin' paid.
And when they screwin' with the money, they ain
Literature
Lost and found
I used to fall for boys who were lost,
wandering aimlessly between the mountain-folds of reality.
nomads, they spent the days counting stars and the nights
looking for the sun. their eyes roamed and their hands travelled,
staying in my heart for days or weeks, before continuing to
search for the way to their various destinations,
to the clouds or to the ground
leaving me in place, in a city I could traverse with my eyes
shut.
Until I met a boy who was found,
had the universe tattooed on the back of his hand.
he read me like a survey map, knew his way around
my tangled forest of a mind, could trace paths through
my bramble eyes and he could
Literature
Summers Lost
god died today. or maybe it was tomorrow. i can't remember.
"ask anything."
static skies;
grizzled blue
sketching down
to sewer lines:
like a wish
on a dead star.
the feeling of gritted teeth
and fingers crossed
until they break.
shame tasted
like a scalpel
and a brick wall
against my throat.
and i was
chewing concrete
when i said,
"it's okay."
swallowing cinder blocks;
stuffing steel under skin.
sugar-sweet
on my cheek,
like book pages:
"where have you been?"
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Comments36
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I love this. It really caught my eye.