The gentle azure grace of dusk's fleeting light
I think I trust too many and know I judge too few. I empathize with the martyr almost as much as I do the one who cracks the whip. I know those with hate and cruelty flushed across their faces had a stern hand beat ideology into them from birth. The rage and fear screamed … Continue reading Chains and Stones (a poem about self-oppression)
1:1 “Why are you alone?” “They taught me I needed no one else.”
We heaped lies on lies to cover up lies, We lied because we wanted appeal. We had never even known anything else, We did it to make ourselves feel real.
Women no longer tolerate the male gaze falling upon themselves. It is always molestation.
Her beauty laid in the grace with which she handled hearts, how she knew where the cracks of hurt were, without even asking.
Exhaling towers of yellow haze like Smaug the Terrible, in my lonely solitude, I rocked to and fro on a shadowy slab of concrete, and let the sounds of the world wash over me.
The publishing and media industries peddle to our sense of sympathy and morality in desperate attempts to not be absorbed by their competitors. They accomplish this by keeping company missions in line with the majority opinions on various social media platforms. Everything about our lives, down to our opinions, is actively being collected and sold by data harvesting corporations. Our way of thinking is up for sale.
Hooks to my teeth It pries open My mouth Chills rattle Down the base Of my skull To the marrow Of my sacrum
Our bones are buried In places holy Places that hold meaning As names lose feeling And feelings die Like all things to time And like our lives lead To places buried Until we are bones In places holy Wholly meant To hold our meaning Before the feelings And names are forgot Like all things in … Continue reading Their bones were buried there
