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Amanda Fletcher Oct 2015
You know, I’ve wanted
to say this for a very long time,
but for a very long time
I haven’t believed that
you’ve been ready to hear it nor
have I been ready to say it.
So big my throat can’t store it
can’t keep it together it comes
out in stutters,
I Luh, I Luh, I Luhhhvee Y-yu-you.
this, is the first time.
This is the first I’ve felt
vulnerable and empowered
at the same time.
This time is kind of amazing
This duality inside of me
fighting against one another
My heart choosing sides,
Left and right, ripping me apart
A ****** valentine
a serious war. like,
the Devil and God are Raging Inside of Me,
Yes, this is Brand New. I wrote a ballad
For you, a love song from deep emotions
mixed up making
a ballad that cries out
the howls of true devotion
the secrets never spoken
under the sheets where I lie,
next to your embodied soul
You soft *******.
Let me hold you, let me cast you
under the spell I brewed myself
brewed right here. Right here.
in the place where I actually love you
because I actually love you
in the softest portion of my heart
the most delicate, touchable, stababble
place in my heart
a sensitive baby
crawling into my throat
choking me with the words
the words inside my throat
I’m choking
on a flavored peanut caught
in the wrong tube I am choking
on something so dang sweet,
like sweeter than the 90’s chokers,
Love. Is. A Hard Peanut.

I believe in the like
Maybe some faith in the love.
I spat up the peanut
It left sugar in my mouth
but I spat it out. It was, after all,
Lodging my airway
Constricting my muscles
Suffocating my taste for reality
Organically altering the song
Of my tongue, like I found the tune at Whole Foods.
You Stupid Peanut, of course I found you at Whole Foods
You’re a Genetic Beauty, modified once originally
You hard Peanut
I Love You I Love You I Love You!

There, I said it
With my choking throat
My loving Soul.
My soft heart
I love you, Peanut.
Amanda Fletcher May 2015
It's interesting, being in the dark and all.
Suddenly your strength is taken away,
though you are not senseless.
Power simply takes on a new format,
a new vigor on the road.

Let the dark be your light.
Let it guide you blind through the heavy obstacles,
and to a place of safe keeping.
Use a new strength,
a power in your temple so you can open your eyes,
So you can see through the darkness
without senseless demise.
Amanda Fletcher Apr 2015
Mattress your old, mattress you’re heavy.
Mattress you heave, mattress you hold.
Mattress, you’re heavy.

Mattress you rock and mattress you cradle
and mattress you carry the weight of my feathered bones
mattress you steal mattress my dreams
mattress haven mattress heathens,
mattress, ***** me, rock me, carry me, mattress
I do.
Mattress you’re heavy, mattress you’re tough
mattress you’re powerful, your rough
mattress your edges are rough mattress

Mattress on my back mattress
over my shoulders mattress on top of my soul,
pushing me down, no.
Mattress to carry my weight all the way home
mattress support dreams and mattress support evil
and mattress speak loud mattress
scream louder
mattress no,
mattress, yes,
mattress,  victim,  
mattress, ghost
Written under pen name Jason Red
For Emma Sulkowicz and all her inspirational power.
Amanda Fletcher Apr 2015
Shhhhhhhhh, shh, shush!
They can hear you!
The sun is shining and you’re excited
but you’re missing the point!
It’s about change, something new.
It’s about the sport bamarama homerun
outta the park and into their eyes.

We can’t be a bunch of buzzing flies,
Mean, disturbing cries disguised as whiny babies.
Well, I guess this whole thing is a baby,
But also a promise, to the future.

Call it Heaven,
because once they give us the key
the pearly gates open wide.
Let my angels sing with their large white wings.
We got a future to fly for.

Don’t you get it?
Freedom of speech doesn't unlock your voice box.
It strings your arrow and pulls it back,
shooting through the hearts of grey suits.

Now you know,
don’t give away your position with your battle cry,
shoot your arrow into the source.
Written under pen name Abbey Day
Amanda Fletcher Apr 2015
People say I’m loud,
I just wish my voice would carry with the wind and
into the ears of everybody who’s not asking to hear
what I’m talking about.
You didn’t invite yourself,
I invited you to hear me out.

You won’t hear me,
you’ll hear my object of choice
held high with two hands, to the sky, to the spray of your tear
gas in my eyes,
but be not blinded in sight as you are deaf to the ear,
loud and clear
you see my poison spilled on the mattress my body was mutilated on,
shoving out through my sweaty hands,
drip, drip, dripping onto the streets you defend with
your devices of destruction.

My words weight is less than a million dollars,
less than a tuition,
less than my fore father’s current colleagues
who are counting down days from suits to polo shoes,
making face on the last of their public legacy,
they don’t want a face like me writing slogans on their cities about ignorance and inconsistency.

I guess I’m not loud enough,
it takes more than volume to raise
The roof the roof the roof is on fire.
Save the pen, the paper, your voices and chairs,
your mattress and umbrellas that protect us
from your outrage at my outrageous voice
Silenced by a shield. Silenced by batons.
Silenced by political power without political people,
incorrect intentions, raging with rovers 100 feet above my head
exploding like an overfilled balloon.

You can beat my words down
but you can’t burn my furniture,
bigger than you, bolder than you, screaming louder
through a mouth it doesn’t even possess,
looking on the face of a choir, a whole choir,
asking to cure our disease.
I will hold my symbols of faith, ****, and freedom in my right hand
and swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth
until our protest has made a difference,
until my metal chairs have molded your thoughts
into signatures on a page of on a page of social justice.
It just is, bigger than you, bolder than you, louder than me,
Don’t test me, Test my furniture.
It will always be heard.

People say I'm loud.
I just wish my voice would carry into the ears
or everybody not asking to hear what I am talking about.
Well, I'm not talking,
My object speaks pretty loud.
Written under pen name Jason Red

Meant to be read aloud
Amanda Fletcher Sep 2014
It's not a failure that the sailor
sits at the sea line with a
seashell to his ear,
It calms the calamity of a
ship crashed ashore.
Will the parlor man feed us
anymore seasons of
steady hands afloat?
To sink sink of to sail
The Great Beyond,
you may borrow my boat.
Amanda Fletcher Jul 2014
Stain my naked body
With your blood,  clear.
It a not the first time I've absorbed your foreign nature,
I've been doing it for years
Through your body,  
Through your mouth
dripping with the liquid sensation of your lonely soul, grinding away the essence of physical feeling with physical feeling, hot, your hollowed out, it's purposefully misunderstood by you
But not by me.
I see inside your holes, I've always been able to,
And now, finally, your looking into mine.
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