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"gurrl" poems
she's gold on one side silver on the other heartened and free she runs like a car wreck racing at breakneck speed trudging through sand to conjoin two-fold into one. little passes by her that goes unnoticed. she drinks in every opportunity to swallow what ever happening will feed her today's lesson. equanimity hostility frivolity passivity. she knows the streets have taught her more than she will ever forget. and she can remember how it felt to taste ***** in her mouth when she looked in the mirror that mocked her every breath. she tries to back step and unmake a bed that she's told she made and must lie in for the rest of her life. she wants to call consignment and have it undelivered but they won't take bug ridden **** stained sprung and un-stuffed pieces of junk that carried peoples dreams in the dark. there's no worth, they say. so she's left carting around holes and dead air. melted glass and ***** cartridges. spent fits and broken tin. wondering what kind of legacy this is for a very pretty tousle haired girl that trusts her with unfeigned eyes and believes in super mom? she cries at night and tries in the morning being as tangible as they expect- but in that socketed place that holds spun sugar contemplation she buries herself. one two-fold parades all day playing puppet gurrl games. she lives in a land of pots of gold and rainbows clover and blue moons moving one step at a time towards what's expected because she knows nothing else. day in and day out running like a car wreck- gold on one side and silver on the other.
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Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 12:04 PM UTC
Silver and Gold
she's gold on one side silver on the other heartened and free she runs like a car wreck racing at breakneck speed trudging through sand to conjoin two-fold into one. little passes by her that goes unnoticed. she drinks in every opportunity to swallow what ever happening will feed her today's lesson. equanimity hostility frivolity passivity. she knows the streets have taught her more than she will ever forget. and she can remember how it felt to taste ***** in her mouth when she looked in the mirror that mocked her every breath. she tries to back step and unmake a bed that she's told she made and must lie in for the rest of her life. she wants to call consignment and have it undelivered but they won't take bug ridden **** stained sprung and un-stuffed pieces of junk that carried peoples dreams in the dark. there's no worth, they say. so she's left carting around holes and dead air. melted glass and ***** cartridges. spent fits and broken tin. wondering what kind of legacy this is for a very pretty tousle haired girl that trusts her with unfeigned eyes and believes in super mom? she cries at night and tries in the morning being as tangible as they expect- but in that socketed place that holds spun sugar contemplation she buries herself. one two-fold parades all day playing puppet gurrl games. she lives in a land of pots of gold and rainbows clover and blue moons moving one step at a time towards what's expected because she knows nothing else. day in and day out running like a car wreck- gold on one side and silver on the other.
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I walked into the bathroom to find tomorrow's lunch in the toilet, soggy After that, I threw my dignity to the ground in utter distaste. My orange juice was the color of ketchup and mustard mixed together I invited her to my apartment then ate soup that my mother told me was good for the colon I saw dat ***** roll and gurrl it be fine as hayl. He treated her like a dog treats a dead fish The donuts were almost gone so I told my mom I was going to rehab I always swore i would resist when fate came knocking on my door, but my attempt failed like a degenerate fails a test. She had forgotten to let her dog out that morning.
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC
Total That ****