it was nothing short of rapturous —
you taste like the spring i met you,
and home, all at once.

Sage 2d
We are lighting up
just to try them out
See the smoke escape
From darkened mouths

Watch the swirling clouds
meet the horizon
In a laid-back town
Leaving your pure-white gown

In the backseat
Just too young to be treasured
Just too old to be loved
We are driving
We are racing
not-quite-classic car

A place of our own
With cigarette burns
And a world of steel
Needles to numb what we feel

Without a care
Higher than the smoke blows
Burning pavement and open skies
Sending letters of our lies

In the backseat
Just too young to matter
Just too old to run
We are living
We are losing
A not-quite-classic car
Pyrrha 3d
They say I am too young to understand the way the world works.
They say it as if I'm not already aware of the wars in foreign lands or violence in our homes.
As if I don't know of the fear of death.
The price of freedom.
The cost of living.

They say it as if I don't know about the shootings or the homicides.
As if I'm unaware of those making a living off of selling poisons to others
Or of the ones who sell themselves to stay alive.
They think I don't know about sex, drugs, death, fear, pain, or life itself.

Nothing is hidden in this world.
Your children grow up knowing about horror and crime.
Its ridiculous to shelter them from what they already know.
You believe they are innocent until they turn 18,
But little girls and boys grow up with pain.
There are no thoughts that you can contain.
They will find answers to the questions even if you dont want them to be found.
I have never understood why people these days are so reserved and offened by the truth. My parents raised me to be informed not to be afraid of the truth or speaking my mind.
Matilda Jul 7
She was born at 3.41am,
Neon lamps,
And mouth masks,
From a place of great peace,  
To loud,
Shambolic fuss,
Open wounds,
Not immune,
Drugs forming spirals of inaudible sounds,
Drowning and gargling,
Naked and cold,
Turning blue,
Being wrung out,
Mum crying out,
Wanting to feel flesh upon flesh,
Tear upon head,
Hands clasped in prayer,      
Hoping the girl,
Innocent and young,
Was lying cradled in haven,
By 11.41.
Faith Jul 7
I rip myself apart,
Piece by piece.
I place bits of my heart,
Into your hands.

I tear my soul,
Little by little,
And gift a morsel:
But when will I realize,
You never really asked for me,
Or my vulnerability?

Remaining transfixed.
You step on my soul,
Dirty it,
Bury it,
Beneath soil,
Without a second glance.
No mercy,
Or pity,
In your eyes.
Simply and only,
A slight surprise.

Never asking for my care,
And never aware,
Of all I invested,
All that manifested,
Beneath my shell,
Deep within my heart.
So why would you mind,
Tearing it apart?
Will the thought of me place a smile upon your face?
Did my positive energy make your heart race?  
Will tears fall when I no longer walk this place?

When will you remember me?

When a scent of perfume is in the air?
When you see big Afro of curly texture 4c hair?
Do you have any memories of me to share?

What will you tell the world about me?

That my heart was on fire and I was free?
That my touch was a sensation that completed thee...

How will you remember me? My love, I guess only as (917) xxx-5263
Amanda Jul 5
Free as the birds I
Used to regard with envy
As a young child
Tryingt to expand writing horizons and not fill pages with more words about stupid guys, or my insecurity, or addiction..
Stella Jul 2
The wise woman bends a broken knee
Her ewer goes deep into the clear river
A shiver
From the cold fingertips to the snow of her hair
All tangled with voices and
  swallowed bits of oceans and
   muffled out cracks and
    internal bruising and
     the light that they give off
      the dreadlocks she will never part with.

She approaches the crowd that watches
Someone bathe in the cold waters.
She fills which cups are still upright
Nods at a ‘thank you’ or two
And wipes a tired eye
  as she fills her own with wine.
   Water’s to drink
     And youth is to behold.
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