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Dec 2022 · 49
Alice Dec 2022
Nothing can fill this hole inside me
The endless vacuum that makes me want to scream
That creates a desire to cut open my seams
A void of despair
How do I repair
The brokenness I find
In all of my dreams
Jul 2022 · 304
Alice Jul 2022
Hopeful for sanity
Bound up in mediocrity
Okay but not fine
Dancing with satan
It’s Hard when you’re not alright
To feel revelation.
Mar 2022 · 59
I Devour Myself
Alice Mar 2022
I devour myself
Dissolve myself like acid
Erode myself
Starting at the sides, I move in on myself

corner myself
shatter myself
Starting at the edges, I consume myself

abrade myself
crumble myself
Starting at the ends, I chip away at myself

Break myself
Mistake myself
feed off myself
Inside, I devour myself
Dec 2021 · 136
Alice Dec 2021
They’re not going to email you or buzz you or ring you
They’re not going to talk to you or hear you or see you
They’re going to have nothing to do with you and they’re happy not to be you.
Take their power from your mind
Only that can free you.
Because, you. You deserve to be free. You.
Dec 2021 · 47
Alice Dec 2021
I have made mistakes
Quiet a few
More than I can name to you.

I have fallen short
Dug my grave
Thought I wasn’t worthy to save.

I’ve given up
I’ve fallen down
But I’ve not remained upon the ground.

Because life is short
And moments fleeting
So, in spite of my fearful heart,
I will keep dreaming.
Nov 2021 · 135
Alice Nov 2021
I lie on the bed
I cover my face  
Waking up has left me 
With my soul out of place  
I dig my nails into my hands
And lace my fingers to ask for grace 
But I am too scared to ask God
To cleanse a girl so debased.
Nov 2021 · 49
Heart Breaker
Alice Nov 2021
I’m sorry I’m your heart breaker.
Penny-pincher; love-taker
Joy-sucker; hurt-maker
I’m sorry I’m your heart breaker.  

I’m sorry I’m your worst fear.
Pull you close; hold you near-
But now I’m going to disappear.
I’m sorry I’m your worst fear.

I’m sorry I’m your dark night.
If I could give you wings- let you take flight
I would in a second- to escape my own spite.
I’m sorry I’m your dark night.
Jan 2021 · 208
Alice Jan 2021
I miss being childlike
Curling up in my mommy’s lap: snug, warm, safe.
Playing and pulling her brown hair between my fingers.
Feeling her belly rise and fall with breath, interwoven with who we are, mother from daughter, her womb my fingerprints.
I am but a child.
Sep 2018 · 343
What i Am When i Am Not
Alice Sep 2018
I am a wilting flower.
I am over-watered, hung heavy.
I am the blackish-blue in your eyes after a flash.  Splotchy, blinding, lacking clarity.
I am the looks you receive and the smiles you don’t when you enter a room
I am the ringing in your ears, the sharp alarm
of your eardrum dying.
I am the weight in your stomach, a cowbell sitting above your bladder.
I am the cold.
I am the frigid wind at 5 a.m. on a February morning.
I am the dark, suffocating, all-encompassing feeling of being smothered beneath a pillow.
I am the frostbite which makes your fingers swell and feel like needle jabs.
I am the exact-o knife against your skin.
I am the beads of blood.
I am the slice which opens up when you pull on my lips, revealing the muscle inside.
I am the wall which stares back as you sit staring.
I am the voice in your head which cycles over and over.
I am the rotten banana peel left on the lunch table for the janitor.
I am the wreaking garbage on your curb.
I am the abandoned wrapper everyone steps over but no one picks up.
I am the dried gum stuck to the sidewalk and under desks.
I am the drowsiness, the lack of concentration, the sadness.
I am the numbness, the lead in your limbs, the cramps in your back.
I am the constipation and the nausea.  
I am the headaches which press into your temples.
I am the thoughts and the quiet holding you to the bed.  
I am the used ****** left in the vineyard.
I am the empty roads and stoplights after dark.
I am the fist which clenches your heart.
I am the suffocation.
I am the loneliness.
I am the fear.
I am the self-hatred.
I am the weight.
I am the loss.
I am the spreading.
I am the increasing while you decrease.
I am the dark cloud.
I am the thunderstorm.
I am the heavy rain on your windshield on the highway.  I am the broken windshield wipers. you cannot see anymore.
I am the empty cavity in your chest.
I am the remembered, you are the forgotten. .
First poem in a small series I did a few years back.  Very sad and rather personal.  A few vague triggers, but please do not read if triggered easily!  Once again, if you in any way feel like this for an extended period of time, please seek help and I promise it gets better!
Sep 2018 · 300
When I wake up
Alice Sep 2018
There is something about the way the sunlight slants through the blinds, how my blanket
feels warm after a night hugging my body.
The way my sock-enmeshed toes stretch and my
arms reach out like wings then fold back in
to the warmth of my chest.
The way my feet pad across the oak floors
and my apple tastes as it crushes between my molars,
sweet and watery and fresh,
as though the flowers of on my windowsill have turned red
and the petals filled with nectar.
Sep 2018 · 282
Beads (trigger warning)
Alice Sep 2018
I want to give you clear instructions on how to make the blood bead up.
You start with an edge, blunt is fine, but sharper is better.
Then, you choose a side, the one less scarred is usually best.
Once you’ve chosen, pull the skin taut, it’ll make the slice easier.
Then draw the tip of your object of choice across the skin.
Do it over and over, until the proper amount of depth is achieved
to create BBs of blood ebbing from the new line in on your hip.
Move on to a different section, continuing to slice until your leg
is sufficiently covered in rubies.
Rinse item, tend wound(s), and repeat the next time
you feel numb inside or like you might explode.
Please be aware this poem contains references to self-harm and mental illness.  DO NOT READ if you feel this will cause you great distress.  And please, if you are in distress, ask for help!  Things do get better :)
Sep 2018 · 530
What Stays
Alice Sep 2018
When i was young, my skin was smooth and soft and un-ravaged.
Then, I grew up, and my top and bottom cheeks sagged, and my laughter
became a tangible memory around the corners of my eyes.
Now, when I smile, there are dimples and there are lines,
like the life-line and the love-line which are supposed to spell out my story
on the palm of my hand.
When I opened my eyes as a child, I saw brown water and blue skies and popsicles.
I saw floats on a lake and boats and friends splashing in from a water-trampoline,
yellow life jackets bobbing and children shouting.
Now, I still see blue skies, but sometimes there are white clouds and sometimes grey.  
I see my mother with her own memories of laughter around her eyes and I see the crevices
at the edges of my father’s mouth from smiling and frowning.
I smell flowers now, and little boys inform me they're fuschia, and when I breathe
at night my pillow smells like London and my room like lavender so I am home and
abroad at once.
Once, when I was sad, I would think mommy and daddy mommy and daddy.  
Now, when I am afraid, I think mommy mommy daddy I miss you.  
I sleep in a twin bed and I tickle myself and it is like I am in kindergarten but now
my fantasies are slicker and harsher but they still paint pictures of a school girl.
I lay in shivasna when I was young yet not old, and I saw a peach pit uncovered,
and it transcended back in time to a baby, just born in the world, and I realized
how it is we can die before our bodies do, how our minds can leave even though
we physically stay.
Dec 2015 · 595
Bernie the Stuffed Dog
Alice Dec 2015
Perhaps if I lay him on his side
he will become something.

He will blink his plastic eyes and
stretch his padless paws out and upward.

If a knead his hide just right
the blind eyes will see
and the black string mouth
will turn red and wet.

A scratch on the belly
and his stuffing will turn to organs.
A kiss on the nose
and he will listen to his head
not my hands.

His floppy, fraying tail will wag
and his shaggy white hair will be fur.

But its 10 year old ears do not hear
and it’s worn out old tail does not shake.

Forever asleep,
for old toys never wake.
Aug 2015 · 2.0k
Alice Aug 2015
We all think success is where you go,
Or, perhaps, success is who you know.
Success is who you yearn to be?
No, success is the green stuff that,
(unfortunately), doesn't grow on trees.
Success is what you get when you
plug that magical formula in.
Success is maybe what you've done
and where you've been?
Success could be all of the above,
But I think
                      Is counted in who we love.
Jul 2015 · 540
Alice Jul 2015
I found myself upon the water,
waves and breakers crashing.
My fear locked up inside the boat,
my desperate heartbeat catching.
The mounting waves and ceaseless sea
did fill my mind with fear.
But the sun broke through--
as the son will always do--
and in awe I cried:
My God! He is here!
Jun 2015 · 360
Passing the Hours
Alice Jun 2015
This is what happens everyday:
I sit, not knowing what to do with myself.
Immobile in my grey chair, as storm clouds
swirl and rain splatters and thunder shatters
the silence. My nails keep curling out of my
fingertips while the hair sprouts from my head—
longer and longer like ropes being pulled from
the mass of a ship; golden; heavy and endless.
Trees swaying and rocking, so clear against
the white shimmer of unseeing eyes, as
the thousands of unborn spiders crawl within
the milky white swinging precariously across
the black abyss which stares out through my lashes.
A heart beat a million times.
My body is stiff, molded to the curve of my
forever-restless squat.
May 2015 · 410
Bird Song
Alice May 2015
Sometimes I feel my heart is swollen with love.
Other times I feel it is chipper but narrow as a bird:
singing out praise while breathing so little air.
May 2015 · 403
Alice May 2015
A long time ago, in this land, before people forgot my name.
I do not understand why they forgot, or what was forgotten.
It is only a thousand miles separating us
and the unity of space travels through the jolts of electric currents.
I am not alone—
neither are you, we are both buried deep inside ourselves
hidden behind the masks of personalities we have
taped over around our faces
two deep beings, burrowed beneath the thumping
jumbles of our thoughts, meditating in the core
and whispering quietly like wheat upon the land.
Apr 2015 · 838
The Lone Sparrow
Alice Apr 2015
A long time ago,
I was a lone sparrow
who flew like the present
upon yesterday’s wind.
When I picked up
pine needles,
they were tomorrow
and I knew that yesterday
would never come again.
Apr 2015 · 1.3k
Sail Away, Small Bird
Alice Apr 2015
Sail away, small bird.
Over distant oceans
Tip down your beak
Let it touch the sea.

Sail away, small bird.
Don't let the crashing
waves touch you. Don't
let them spray your wings.

Sail away, small bird.
Drown out the roar
Of the current with the
gentle hum of the breeze.

Sail away, small bird.
Away from everything.
Away from home.
Away from me.
Apr 2015 · 553
Over the Hills
Alice Apr 2015
Oh, soft lavender fields
             over the hills
                                                  to you.
Olives; wine in your glass
                                       deep purple
              over the hills
Over the hills
                          pouring down
                                                    into the sky
chasing away
                       orange minnows.
On soft lavender
                          to you.
Apr 2015 · 460
The Green Light
Alice Apr 2015
It makes me angry
That all these years
I have sat,
longingly searching
for the green light.

Yet, when I reached out my arms
to embrace destiny,
I found myself hugging smoke;
My Daisy, nothing more than
a forgotten dream reflected
in the dark waves of the lake,
like scattered puzzle pieces
under the moonlight.
Alice Mar 2015
What would I say
Were you to take my hand,
The puzzled look in your eye
One not of love, but betrayal.  
The memory of my sandals grazing
Your worn army green boots beneath
The table, as a tear slid
Down the bridge of your nose
Looking like chocolate syrup against the
Brown of your skin. How can
I explain without tasting the mint
Of your Spear toothpaste and feeling
The wet of your palm in
Mine, your lips reaching down to
The slice in my finger, *******
Out the blood till the sting is gone.
How do you scream into ears
The harsh reality, when they
Have always whispered the
Soft truth into yours.
Sinking off the edge, it is
Easier to kiss the back of
Your neck than the tenderness
Of your lips goodnight.
Mar 2015 · 350
Alice Mar 2015
While you turn your head precariously
towards the soft autumn seeping in
through the open window, and your
brown hair flutters in the cool breeze,
I watch your face: as your eyebrows draw
forward in thought, creating coal black
hawk wings arching across your forehead,
as you pucker your lips in contemplation,
as you exhale a slight sigh, trying to make
sense of it all.  

In that moment,
I hope you understand the extent to which
I am not next to you, but with you. Floating
along, entangled with the soft lavender of
your perfume drifting upon the breeze, dropping
seeds of brokenness and hope wherever it is
the wind may carry you.
Mar 2015 · 506
Blank Screens
Alice Mar 2015
Number of times you took my hand: 52.
Number of times we sat in your car: 101.  
Number of times I played your guitar: 6.
Number of times you played mine: 23.  
Number of times I kissed you: 80.
Number of times you kissed me: 93.  
The length between your house and mine: 12 miles.
The length between you and me:  1,148.
Number of times you said I love you: 83.  
Number of times I looked away: 13.  
The amount of ways you tried to back away:  4.  
The number of ways I tried to pull you closer: 5.  
The number of days between your goodbye and my good riddance: 3.  
The number of hours I cried: 6.  
The number of times I tried to run away: 18.  
The number of hours I have stared at my phone, waiting: 48.  
The number of times you have called: None.
Mar 2015 · 395
Second glances
Alice Mar 2015
The dynamics of us were made up
Of the sent of your
Home made soap from the Eugene farmers market and the cherry taste of my Chapstick.
When walking home, the smell lingers, but we always turn around to identify the scent at the wrong time and miss each other's face's.
Feb 2015 · 309
The Goodness of the Day
Alice Feb 2015
Oh, the blessings of this earth
Whether the day rains or shines,
Is not each day unique as a being?
While showered in similarities,
Will not each day come only once,
Born to us as one as we are born without the rest?

Oh, the thanksgiving
for such a day as good as this!
Just as we celebrate the goodness found in each person.
Feb 2015 · 553
The Heart
Alice Feb 2015
Ah! But the heart is not full when filled with ideas,
That is the mind!
And the heart does not grow cold,
that is your toes when walking through snow!
It does not burn in the sun like your skin,
It glows!
Ah, but the love the heart knows!
Jan 2015 · 349
From 12 to 12
Alice Jan 2015
Out of doors, I bathe in sunlight
in the honey glow of afternoon
Unaware that night befuddles
the flawless ere of peace fled soon
with yellowed grass and aching leaves,
beseeched, from up above may fall
and with a careless kick of feet
I scatter fire ants big and small

For while I lay in grass galore
night time at the edges creeps
emerging in my green stupor
to shock my mind from lazy sleep
far out of ease my warmth is knocked
into the cool steady gaze where sheep
alarmed at the stroke of midnight flock
jumping the fence with boundless leaps

While up the front porch stairs I run
and watch the nighttime settle in
while broken leaves fly in the wind
oh, woe for those who rest at sunset
in the hollow heart of darkest sin.
Jan 2015 · 281
To Me
Alice Jan 2015
I see you never want to see me soar
up above, the heights galore
where tree tops meet the cloudy shore
with blue backdrops beyond the white
leave me to the burden I bore.

I see you never want to see me cry
in happiness, that together we’ll die
lovers arms, forever intertwined
with each a kiss upon the cheek
You’d rather alone I sleep.

I see you never want to see me call
your lovely name, that sporadic song
that’s rhythmic quality left me so long
for the sorrowful swoon of the sea
You’d rather not be with me.

I see you’d rather not hold my hand
or kiss my lips
or be my man
I see you prefer not to understand,
what it is to be something, everything,
to me.
Jan 2015 · 340
Get Lost
Alice Jan 2015
When I was younger people told me not to get lost.
Voices would fly up and catch in the wind and be thrown back to them
as I ran through the wheat towards the blackberries.

While they called for me from a distance, calling to themselves,
I would stain my tongue violet and my fingers purple.
Then run farther away, I’m not sure where. Farther than they made it.

It’s easy for me to run, it’s only me.
When they run, they try to carry all of them.
You have to run alone though, if you want to make it anywhere.

When they reached the blackberries they all held hands
creating a barricade of arms so i couldn’t run away
a barricade of arms for me to break through.

(It’s not nearly as fun to run if there is nothing to hold you back)
(What can you discover, otherwise?)

As I emerged on the other side with my blue stained hands
they stared at my in shocked awe, the barricade broken.
They tried to run after me, but like i said,
you can’t get lost with other people.

So I ran away alone.
Only you can be found.
Alice Dec 2014
He’s running through midnight,
he doesn't know it anymore.
He tiptoes across the stars towards the black hole,
he doesn’t think if she can hear him anymore.
Maybe if it rips him apart,
He won’t have to worry what he feels now, anymore.
Even though all he wants is to feel

Maybe if it severs his heart from his chest
He’ll know
he’s not in the light anymore.
He’ll know
he’s in the dark.

He’s not falling into the lost bliss anymore.
he’s not screaming her name anymore, either.
The stars go dark as he steps on them,
distinguishes the spark one by one
He doesn’t care anymore.

Maybe if he falls far enough,
if he falls fast enough,
He won’t have to forget anymore.
And maybe if he rips back the black he can paint
the white canvas of light ****** red.
He doesn’t need her anymore.
Or maybe he can dream his way into oblivion.
He’s always wanted to feel
Alice Dec 2014
When midnight seeps in
through the panes of my window
And flutters my curtains
with a sinister breath.

I lay in a daze
of chameleons and pearls
The foul taste of nighttime
dampening my tongue.

When it wraps round my toes
and tickles my armpits
And meets my bare lips
with a far to eager kiss.

Returning once more,
me, to imminent darkness
Till I am no more
than moss hidden under the mist
Alice Nov 2014
There’s a rope, and it’s laid down flat in front of me.  
It turns into a snake with a yellow belly and red eyes,
and hisses at me,
“everything you’ve been told is a lie.  It’s not a circle, it’s a straight line”   So I’ve followed the rope to the end only to discover
I’ve been walking on cracked egg shells my whole life under the impression I left them whole eggs.  
It drops off at the end, it’s an edge and not rounded.  It drops off
and it’s a black hole looming before me.
I turn to run from it but everything behind me has gone grey
and I can’t see the rope anymore, just twisted mirages of it
I think I may have invented in my head.  
It’s a reflection from my memory,
not the real and solid yellow gold line that
once lay in front of me, behind me, where is it now?
Desolate grey full of secrets that I think I know the answer to
but when I look back realize I can never share, can never be apart of.  Ominous black ahead of me leering;
darkness I can’t see and it’s more of a mystery than what I left behind.
All sides are closing in in different shades of a dark, deceptive cloud
that I can never look through,
and only on the ledge where I stand is it white.

And as I fall into the mysterious abyss, the light follows me until what I left behind has gone dark and I have entered the swirl of blackness, shining.
Sorry, It's not much of a poem.  But I wanted to post it anyway.
Nov 2014 · 1.6k
Alice Nov 2014
Take my hand,
maybe I will lead you into a wonderland.
Where the hour glass stops dead its grains of golden sand.
The waves of youth are ceaseless,
the inevitable whole has been banned.

Let's fly away to Neverland.
Sep 2014 · 405
For a Letter
Alice Sep 2014
May I ask,
when hands are quaking beneath
an empty winters sun,
palms chapped and a sand paper tongue,

Why you have chosen to wait
in the ceaseless white snow
for a letter?

If you are expecting a lullaby
to appear,
wrapped snug
in the crackle of bubble wrap,
tucked away
in a fold of Manila,

You would be more hopeful
to listen out for a
bare whispering of the melody
upon the frigid wind.

Why you would choose
to stand and wait
on a Sunday when all is clear ice
is beyond me.

May I say,
as your fingers go numb,
I hope it is worth it.
Sep 2014 · 457
Velvet Sunsets
Alice Sep 2014
Eyes closed
To an evenings backdrop
Velvet black with purple stars.

Whisper me the answers
So they will float across
The gloom
Form letters in the
Maroon night sky.

Only when pupils meet skin
May the words reveal themselves
To me.

Only when I lay my head
To rest on the soft white
Cotton of my pillow.
Sep 2014 · 301
The secret to happiness
Alice Sep 2014
We like what we are
nearly certain we may have.
We like what is nearby,
what we can grab onto.

We like what we know,
what we have before touched.
What we have already explored
and found all the shortcuts through.

We like what we may find
at all times.
What never hides, what is
not a mystery.

*To be avoided
Alice Aug 2014
This is when the world is golden.
When sun shimmers on the branches of forever-green trees
And light dances on the apple blossoms, white since spring came.

This is when the world is alive.
She is truly a women,
glowing and happy, radiating unrestrained joy,
Smiling at all the little moments of wonder she held in her day.
She caresses the leaves with gentle sunlight,
lulls the trees into a careless sway with the deep lavender
of the evening breeze.

This is when the world is golden.
When she is singing.
Aug 2014 · 301
Frost Bite
Alice Aug 2014
And when the frost bite bit him,
it stung.
It latched on to his tongue,

razor sharp teeth digging into
the fleshy muscle.  Crawled
to the back of the mouth and in
one desperate swallow, fell down
into the pits of the digestive system where
the intestines did their best to burn it out.
But such a cold is freezing to the point of fire
and leaves the heat of the insides
steaming and then terminally frozen.

Such a timid shiver is now the bottomless cold
living inside him.
And when the frost bite bit him,
it liked the taste and never left.
Jul 2014 · 1.0k
Alice Jul 2014
****** me with your madness
Pull me in with your spiraling illusions
Paint swirls beneath my eyelids
trickle words into my pores
Make my breath a choke without your power
Make the screams come out my ears
Hot words swell on my tongue
Send me from this stiffening reality
in, to the elastic world of light
or is it darkness
the image is not mine
You pasted it to my eyes
You remove it
Or forever I will pace my castle in the air.
Jun 2014 · 4.1k
The Concept of Time Travel
Alice Jun 2014
The concept of Time Travel.
Were the portal to open in the sky
the heavens to split and
the past to rain down upon
the present world,
Would you jump in?
Would you fly through the
silver tube of past time
bump shoulders with your 12
year old self
kiss forgotten love once more
in the shadow of imminent  
Expiration because it has not yet
reached it's expiring date.
Are you living with no regrets?
Or an insane plea to change
Jun 2014 · 508
The Winds of Time
Alice Jun 2014
The static bubbles and
melts into the ears. A
radios noise blazes up
within the summer’s
fading hot spell. Red hues
across a setting sky.
The buzz of mosquitos matching
the electric hum
within the drive.
A bird as quick as life
itself flies by.
It can’t help but
stop and listen to
the newly discovered
tune.  A beat so alien
to its blue feathers,
it is more than music.
It is the underlying current carrying
each note.
The white hot electricity
hidden with each lost
drop of the bass.  It is
brand new, yet familiar,
like the honey bees in the
spring time, scurrying in
then flurrying out
with the breath of autumns
crisp wind.  The spark  
of a thousand ideas shocking
the chilling summer air.
The car drives away, the radio with it.
The bird flutters off
humming its one way tune.
A leaf who's lines
are memories blown
by the winds of time.
Look what lies between the lines.
Jun 2014 · 605
Alice Jun 2014
Remember when you promised me
All your soul and body
And that I'd never slip
Below the crashing waves.

Just when it was calmest
You left me for the future
A future with no love or lust
At least not involving me.

To be happy, they say,
Live in the now.
I suppose I live in your past
So I hope your now is the happiest now
(You're the reason our now could never last.).
Good bye.
May 2014 · 395
If Only it Lasted Forever
Alice May 2014
Lets lie awake together
In the darkness of the night
Life doesn’t last forever
but the midnight we may fight
and passion and lust will never be love
but who said love was better
for when the moon is the only
thing visible to my eyes
tonight life could be no better.
For every breath taking moment that time floats away from me.
May 2014 · 611
Away with the wind
Alice May 2014
For all of the moments when life blows you
A kiss on the lips is all you are left
Sealed, like an envelope my soul to
sky.  I am one with the
With each passing moment
life no longer timed.

I fly free with my
No longer under other with newfound free
And once I am free I will
and be gone.
Away with the wind my spirit will fly.
May 2014 · 1.5k
Letting Go of the Safety Net
Alice May 2014
I came to a bend in the road just the other day.
In a dusty forlorn desert at the edge of town.
A narrow one way street with no room for cars to meet.
And I must make the choice whether to skip town or stick around.
It only goes one way, this lonely barren path.
So I guess I must decide on the direction I will take.
The fear of losing what lies behind is all that holds me back.
But human nature fears change, and I am one to defy humanity.
To find satisfaction, I am afraid
there is to be one choice.
Because to live a caring reckless life.
The one way street knows best.
So goodbye my sweet safety net town
I must put my acrobat skills to the ultimate test.
It makes me think of Robert Frost
May 2014 · 26.0k
Glitter and Gold
Alice May 2014
Glitter and gold is the man in the chair
with rings on his fingers
and the hardened harsh stare
blinded by ugliness
wrists chained down by no use
a man with much money
he spends on abuse

the term known as trafficking
familiar I’m sure
he’s never been one for
doing what’s pure
so he lays down his money
flings out his cash
says he’ll pay the full price
for the girl with the mask

just to touch her to feel her
pet her cold body with his
run clammy hands up her scarred legs
clamp her in his ashen fist

little boys too he will willingly harm
because trafficking to him is a sport
no need for alarm
Just cows in the system
of making ends meat.

The poor solemn dancer
the poor saddened soul
the poor battered spirit
angry that they’ve been sold

with ***** feet and scabby legs
they work to feed the king
the end from him they can only beg
And freedom will never ring.
May 2014 · 690
Relevant or not
Alice May 2014
Are the names
Are the ages
Is the time
Is the year.

To keep track
Each pulsing minute
Is it's own
Why do we insist upon
Owning it?

We people
Why not content?
With our noses
With our thighs

Why must everything
When isn't change
What we fear most?

Set upon change for our bodies
Determined to withhold
Our futures.

The whitty twists
Of reality.
People really should be more appreciative of themselves and learn to accept what will be.
May 2014 · 420
The Location
Alice May 2014
Cold New York streets
where the winds strike and sweep.
Where does time belong.

Long summer days
As they quickly fade to grey.
Where does time belong.

Moments of love
moments of truth.
Where does time belong.

The tree in the backyard
withered leaves fall.
Where does time belong.

Me holding you
you knowing me.
Where does time belong.

The here, the now, the everything
my breath, my voice, my heart beating.
Where does time belong.

My little puppy born today
slowly he will age away.
Where does time belong.

School yards, new buildings
they’ll crumble and fall.
Where does time belong.
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