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We stomp and we romp
with our filthy, bare feet
we jump and we bump
in the high summer heat.

Just skin, nails, and teeth
stop when we see blood
we are the ***** girls
rolling around in the mud.

We're *****, we drink beer
in the park in the dark
we yawp, twist, and shout
and we jeer and we bark.

We **** for the thrill
in the sweet with sweat season;
we say it's revenge,
but we don't need a reason.

Saturated plum flesh
bursting between jaws,
we are boundless, we are seeping,
we are love without laws.
Dear straight people,
It is a common believe that ****** are docile, non-threatening, non- violent, and weak. That being ***** is a choice to up your instagram followers, or to be the most woke, or to attract others. This is a poem to remind you that we are as natural as the sun, we are everywhere, and that we are not afraid to smash your brains in with a brick.
Xandra Lynch Jan 2
bright red bubbles pop from underneath my feet
red as cherry trees that won't grow
can this be blood?
dirt from in between my toenails
i wash off Mother Nature's skin  
a leaking coming from my eyes
that washes away dissatisfaction
can these be tears?
the sound of feet against the ground
solid and unloving
i slip
face down into the ground
can this be where life comes from?
an old lady plants flowers in her garden
can this be inspiration?
i am losing my train of thought
can this brain be me?
Matteo Palermo Dec 2018
Write your name in the dirt over my grave
Abby M Dec 2018
Faithful buds you poke your heads out green
Leaves unfold round petals’ silky sheen
Sunlight draws you from your cellar rest
Dry-dirt roots seek water to ingest
Gift of romance, jewel of child’s crown
Found and owned, your beauty not your own
Perfect picture, ruined out of love
Plucked from home you flourish long for none
Riley Cartwright Dec 2018
you were my Sun and i was your lively Earth

now you are a burning star and i am just

Abby M Dec 2018
Is a common turtle really different from a crab?
They both make their ways slowly, across the dirt and sand.
The mouth and claw don't differ much in ways they're used to grab.
Could a common turtle really be a green-shelled crab?
Farhan Ahmed Nov 2018
This is a brothel
Where happiness is on sale
But you dont tell
In this home of fast paced never sleeping 7 billion people... We are kind of just dead inside.
KM Hanslik Nov 2018
I am not as innocent as I look
I have craters in my bones
my blood flows too quickly and my heart is full of black dirt
but this soil is good for planting
so I told myself I'll be a garden
I tell myself it matters, when
it really, really doesn't
the black soil slips her fingers under my skin
and cradles my skull to her chest
we are flying, she says,
but it feels more like falling;
she is bottomless and I want to reach new depths.
Glenn Currier Nov 2018
Can't remember last time
I knelt down to dig in the dirt
but I do recall all us boys who'd climb
the sandy loam pile in the yard

to make castles, caves and highways
and let our fantasies reign -
oh what glorious days
when fun was simple and plain.

We cared not about smudges
holey pants or muddy feet
had not learned about grudges
nor become expert in deceit

hadn’t yet been betrayed
enough to live in hurt
and conjure all the ways
we could spite and spread dirt.

Maybe every now and again
I'd benefit from kneeling down
and digging deeper grain by grain
in earthy dirt - to find my being’s ground.
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