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Under the steam and jets of pressure
I held my face to my hands
And created a pressure from muscle
Bone to muscle
And various tissues in between
Leading to flesh
Pressing against flesh

I wanted to remold my face
To change my appearance

I can't explain it
I think I'm sick
And no, this is not
Pre-teen melodramatic ****

I mean sick
I'm dripping ink
Drowning in sin.
I don't know where up is
Or where to begin...
I hate this, but it's nonetheless true.
 Jan 2013 Raven Raquel Ortiz
Ugo
The unorthodox are the true prophets
for their ways are those of the future,
so in the now, most kings get their head cut off.

But as death is the greatest prophet,
for it never fails to come true,
their martyrdom proves their ways truer than the footsteps of their fathers,
so in the face of adversities;
never be afraid to be a lonely Jesus on the Cross.
“Most young kings get their head cut off”—Jean-Michel Basquiat
Can you please save me?
I am drowning.
I am drowning in the land of the free and home of the...
(wait, what was that last part again?)
We had so much potential...
We saved the world.
We cared for it gently.
Now that has been shoved to the side.
I am drowning in this dystopian plutocracy.
I can't breathe over the advertisements.
My lungs are filled with empty words.



I sink into the static...
 Jan 2013 Raven Raquel Ortiz
D
She knows what she wants,
And he is who she sees.
He floats around in her head
And stays with her in her dreams.

But she sees that he’s trapped
And that his feet are tied
And secretly he is hurting,
But from her, his feelings he hides.

He is like a bird
Trapped in a cage
But deep down he knows,
It’s by her he will be saved.
A knife in the back of the collective man
Let's start with something drastic

Fire for fire
Dear fireman
Lit a match to find
the matchstick

I've been slowly
Draining my own
Life
What I do might surprise you

I know where you are
Dear prey
I know

I know where you are
Dear, pray
I know

Wordplay and associates
Let's make a collective
Trying hard to sound
Indulgent
Let's be protective

Plastic linings
and glad tidings
Keep away the kids

Pills from Docs
and bills from Crocs
We're living in the skids

******* away our youth in Jack
Let's pour another round

I want to be the man you run to
The man you're glad you found
I drank a little, and this bled onto hellopoetry. Enjoy!
And just like that,
people plucked their
stems away from
my roots
and carried
on
without me.
I have struggled,
to accept this
as fact.
And even more,
to not let it
bother me.
I used to look
at my sensitivity
like a gift.
I believed
it gave me empathy
where others
would not feel it.
I do not
look at it
as a gift anymore.
I feel it as chains
wrapped so tightly
around my heart,
keeping it
tied tightly,
to places
it should no be.
I feel everything,
like a spike
within me.
I keep things in,
bottle them up.
Burdens that are not mine,
nor given to me.
Burdens that I took
without reason,
or knowledge.
I bear the weight
of the world around me.
I would kiss the feet,
of those who would
love me.
For I love
too many,
who never give me
a second thought.
I came singing
Pushed through the water
I came dumb
Without a man on my side
I drifted downward
From the moon
With every indication
This city would be mine
I came to under the mirrored water
Blue-black wings shining
Feather issuing streams of light
I came in the Mother's toothed ******
My black eyes blessed with insight
I came alone, with brave words
For speeches
And a riddle from the Unicorn
To solve
I came with a curse on my head
And gifts to bestow on mankind
I came with a song etched in stone
I came valiant
I came meek
Crawling backward like a crab
In the sea foam
I came heart broken
Without weeping
Clothed in rags
And precious stone
A comet fell last night

and I saw the universe inside a flower...

the light and darkness full of power...

then God came and said a few words.

and I was left shaking on the floor.
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