You’re such a woman.Optimized by the thrusts of nature,taking it like a statue being impaledby gusts of wind. Helpless to the sensation,Your only option is to screechsoft echos of pleasurethat resonate with the melodiespounding within. You weather the storm. Holding your groundwhile being turned onby the functions of anatomy,which supply you with the toolsto experience …
It’s like I’m digging for gold.Mining for ore, swinging my tool down the hole. Buried in your vein, stuck,locked in, enclosed. Extracting your deposits until the product seeps out andexplodes. Now I’m Rich. Drenched,Dripping,and exposed. Officially crowned as the knight at your throne.
After a while, rejection begins to turn into neglect.Following the desperate attempts to request a minimal amout of respect, “Ugly”, and “stupid” were the labels I would get.
If you cut yourself, your body heals on its own with minimal effort from you. If you get sick, your immune system activates a complex process that helps your body fight off foreign objects and keep you alive. This is coded in your DNA. That’s the word of God. We live on a planet whose …
Never enough. Let them tell it and it’s a story of blood. Recognition is reserved for those deserving of love. We don’t meet the thresholdnecessary for trust.
Presenting: The Black Community. We have resigned from the ascension of liberation and regressed to an ancient plane of stupidity. Descending from the pulse of nature, in less than 6 months we have successfully reduced the legacy of our ancestors into forgotten memories. And while the throne remains vacant, the duties of dignity were abandoned …
I suffer so you don’t have to. Tracing a path for you to walk in, I endure any damage that can potentially impact you. While the progression is difficult, the reward is substantial. My life has been a journey destined for existential fulfillment merely to demonstrate your potential as an example. We are servants of …
Our stressors may be different, but our emotions are shared. Interruptions scattered across the fabric of our existence with little time to prepare. Connections disrupted, some damaged beyond repair. Resiliency degenerates as humanity struggles to overcome the dispair.
Reflections are not welcomedin my field of reception,Visual confirmation of my existencehas become very unpleasant. Another day of being me. The unappealing figure whose onlymeans of functioning is through the veins of the weak. Runes of despair are tattooedon the structure of my physique. I often fail to scorethe minimal valuesnecessary to escape my own …
Our paths crossed. We intercepted years of history, bonding us as natural-born enemies for unknown reasons. Our past’s lost, Memories of torture, hatred, and similar emotions penetrate history to create permanent lesions. Our last thoughts, Compromised brain matter attempts to compute the actions of man and interprets the meanings. We pass faults. Justice is never …
Poetry 