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Torias Apr 2016
Deleted,
Deleted what I feel,
I know what I should do,
But what fate will that seal?

4/24/16
Colten Sorrells Apr 2016
Why am I still
trying to find a way
in
when she's searching
for a way
out
?

because she's the one
I can't live
**without
SassyJ Apr 2016
Booming Rhetorics  (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Booming Rhetorics ==
by
Checkered Darks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Copy the link below to your browser)
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/boomingrhetorics



Human nature itself is a smash of contractual responsibility. A splash of rights afloat as we sink in our psychological rooted moral panics. All I see is a cascading titanic of ventures our mislaid adventures one after another. The criss cross of chains, we bonded in tax measures, reserve treasures...... It's not my leisure I beg you don't make your pleasure.

I sink in pressure, resolving Karl Mark ideology of conflicted power. Is it our born nature or nurture to live in a world of social polarisation. A pole to pole, a tug of war. Each owning and holding a rope.Is it our task to cage in boxes, fencing notions of inequalities within our society. Is it our right this notion Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.

Help me out as as I wade in the swampy lowland. Treading through and through, head afloat, the submerging walk me to the shores..... Help me find my way through this dark tunnel. Help me see the light, let the sun ray penetrate my blight.

In our dichotomy of democracy we have made it right. A rolling ball of ........
1. Stock them high sell them cheap is the order of the day.
2. Social warehousing of merging demand and supply chain.
3. A disintegration of socialist entrepreneurship.
4. Re-distribution of Export Production Zones in marginalised countries.
5. A surge of capitalism on this patch we call the universe.
6.Conortions of monopoly colluding sustainability.

I pass this ball to you. As the industrial revolution fades and debates of "STEEL" revolves.

My Speech is a mere consideration, our contradiction. The contractual complications that we have grounded and granted ourselves as humanity. My voice is an exchange, my gift, a cloud of thoughts, an arousing hope our haunting costs.
Venny Mar 2016
She was so lost and unsure, so broken, unpure.

Homeless bones in her body, a starving and aching soul

Her eyes so hollow from so much pride and pain forced to swallow

And a smile that just never fit, like an unhappy church wife quietly sitting at the dinner table, regretting everything

Her soul constantly searching through oceans, woods, and mountains

Looking for something, anything to find herself within. A butterfly caught in a jar, a wolf stuck in a cage. So utterly broken in so many ways.

Her spirit crushed but never truly destroyed, her crown bent but never broken. As she continued her search for her home, she knew she'd fine some way. Some peace, some of herself.

All alone.
ᗺᗷ Feb 2016
Tracing the tattoos on your arm with the pupils of my eyes
Should I touch
The night is getting older
The mistakes I haven’t made yet are making me anxious
The conversation I’m hiding from you is beginning to make my lips turn blue
But you have become exceedingly good at turning them purple
Merging my misery with your happiness
Finding the average in a not-so-average pair
Remaining too close for comfort
While comfortably numb to both yesterday and tomorrow’s heart ache
I’m scared because you make me feel
You make me think
You make me someone other than the man I used to be
And I’m having trouble deciding if that’s a good or bad thing right now
The good news today is that I always see you in my dreams
The bad news tomorrow is that I may forever see you in my nightmares
ᗺᗷ Feb 2016
Treading on new ground, tumbledown I fear the worst
With hands clenching tightly like the backdoor of a hearse
And what’s worse becomes the knot from which my stomach will not drop
As it is tied too tightly to a being near forgot
The choices that I’ve made become the ones that never stop
Moving in reverse my curse, ahead of me is blocked
By a body absent pulse where the soul has left its host
Haunted by the light then disappearing like a ghost
And like most I’m left idle gears changing, carriage coasts
To a path in lieu of solitude, the path I never chose
Dousing sparks now depart, ignition gone as pistons slow
Shifting stars becoming clouds, heaven high no longer glows
Wheels stop, crippled clock, as both headlights now explode
Swinging door, stitches torn, walk the path away from home
Shield stripped, one way trip to a throne that’s made of bones
Body pale, life derailed, the only life I’ve ever known
Cold water cuts the sky, broken tears of angels cry
Now carving out my flesh, pooling blood till vessels dry
With the body at my feet, the body’s heart would not comply
Oh that body at my feet, oh that body it was mine.
ᗺᗷ Feb 2016
I want to say yes but I’m hung up on the no’s.
Open chest, I digest, then digress to find a home.
No black and white choices like a checkmate toe-to-toe.
Broken glass inside the ring, the reflection of my own.
I wonder if its tears or I wonder if it’s sweat,
Only thing remaining clear are the clouds inside my head.
Like a brainy haze it’s rainy days everywhere I stay,
So if I ever land from high its guaranteed delays.
And I pay, and I pay till the flesh from heart decays.
Blood that turns to water never grows a rose bouquet.
It’s not okay because the roses, she always loved the most,
My hands open up where thorns and pedals juxtapose.
Mother Nature has opposed, and goes to numb my tipping toes,
As I fall into a hole and fold myself to fit the mold.
Getting old from selling souls to people like it was my own,
Behold this heart I newly stole, its beating I postponed.
And proposed she may just never know, I’m destined all alone.
No turning houses into homes, its more like catacombs.
As I roam through the cemetery tripped on sticks and stones,
Falling chest first onto a pile made of bones.
****** stick into my skin as I’m threaded by the thorns,
Of wilted roses stemming from the past I never mourned.
Nevermore to see the light of love while buried from the floor,
On this battlefield of sin within a prisoner of war.
Alyssa Gaul Feb 2016
Regrets fill my spoon like alphabet soup
spelling out my unfulfillment
with tiny little letters
nagging at my mind

And conflicts own me
except there’s no angel and devil
it’s just lesser evil versus lesser evil
No winner- I’m pulled apart

What if I say this
no- I can’t- too risky
but then I’m miserable
is it better to be miserable?

my daily thoughts
when it didn’t use to be
Tears are more common
than going out to eat

I am ashamed
and also ashamed I feel ashamed
I don’t want to be fragile
but I let myself fall into a crater

And people see it on my face
and I see it in the mirror
the way I once was
all entangled now in another

we don’t choose to fall
that’s the point of falling
it comes out of the blue
after you’re tripped up

And then the hurting comes
always after- like a scraped knee
and they say time will heal it
but how does that work when you keep tripping

a spinning cycle of get hurt, feel bad, tell someone, feel bad
goes on repeat, load never unloaded off my chest
The worst part is letting the hope build up
and getting let down, time and time again

Why? out into the oblivion
we ask ourselves
and How? do we keep moving
when the daily routine feels heavy

I thought my Achilles Heel was the fatal flaw
but really it's my heart, the hope, the love
when conflicts dance around
the only thing to do is write about it
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