It's funny
how we do these things
to seem cooler
to appear prettier
or more perfect
all for someone
who doesn't even glance twice at you.

i have stopped
screaming
into empty rooms
because
it is  
the same as
screaming
into full rooms
of people who
have said they were listening

The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.

I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.

We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.

Soy yo amor mío,
Quien golpea la puerta de tu corazón.
Deja me entrar,
Y te prometo que conmigo estarás feliz.
Una pasión bien fuerte quemándose como fuego,
Tú eres la razón.
Soy la solución a tu tristeza.
Al contrario, solo mírate reír.
Ríndete, no existe la palabra lastimar, solo amor,
Con todo lo bueno que soy.
Vine a curar y vivir en tu alma.
Soy el ultimo pedazo de tu rompe cabeza, lo que usted necesitaba.
Eres el aire que respiro, lo que me ase vivir.
Tú, Como un sueño real que quiero cumplir.
Te voy a ensenar lo que es amor y borrar tu dolor.
Las personas amables se merecen lo mejor.
Contigo, pudiéramos hacer lo todo.
En la escurrida, eres el brillante foco.
Al fin este deseo se hizo verdad.

It will no longer be a cycle, you going back to him and me coming back to you.
The chances I gave you were plenty, you’ve drained the last one.
You’ve done everything I told you, you were. You’ve dug your grave and I’m not going with you.
I’m not your stepping stone, your therapist, or the bounce back for your self-esteem.
I wont go back into a tug of war for you, it's worthless now.
Since in return I get only blisters and not some healing hands.
There is someone waiting for me, waiting to receive what you couldn’t see.
and if you come crawling back; I will not let you splinter me again.

I ask you to show me art.
Tear the normal apart.
Weary first impressions, I want to see you fall apart.
Smeared make-up like smeared paint on the artist hand.
Let’s save time and truly start.
I have notebooks full of holes.
Little do we know until one shows.
Their insides spilling out insights.
Spark an incent, in a instance, the smoke clears the tense and suspense out of a safe room where your nature can be exposed.
A cup containing wine acts like a truth serum.
Songs meaning equal same rhythms.
Candle light dancing paradigm.
Here we will meet on the same page.

We are the writers who defy being told what to say, how to think, or express ourselves. We write not for the glory of recognition but for the sake to give words meaning. For all you outcast that have ever been told you are not a poet, were out here too, waiting to see what you create with your pen. - Christian Ek

"Turn your back on what doesn't keep you moving forward."