kittyskatesforever9

You fear the flowers now, Persephone. Envisioning the ground falling away as you reach for petals like to rubies. A chariot with steeds of rot and bone erupting from sulfuric Hell below. O king of death with poppy eyes of lust to take a daughter from this earth devine ignoring screams of mother up above the cruelest separation tears the soul. Enslavement tastes like pomegranate seeds as flowers wither with a mother’s grief. To feel the sun’s caress upon your skin a wait must be endured as the earth sleeps. When you return your mother’s tears bring life come home daughter and bring with you spring time.

It's all made up of squares the drawers and the walls and the walls and the walls and the walls the floor two ceilings two floors until the ground ceiling roof sky I am laying on someone's ceiling windows windows windows crooked blinds closed door closed mouth closed eyes open eyes staring at me follow me judge me live one life in a two room small me big room suffocating in space empty chairs sit invisible men watching me meeting me knowing me too much too many shoes dirty shoes dark closet closed opaque paper can you see me can you hear me whisper pray cry ladder rungs climb up why do I cry all the prints from all the shoes old dirt old trac

public static void writePoem(int love) {  int love = 0;  while (int love >= 0) {     print ( " I'll love you forever");     love++;   } } If computers knew love; This is what it would look like; // but only sort of. The amount of love starts at zero; But while love is greater than or equal to zero; It prints out " I'll love you forever"; // computers can't actually feel love. // sorry Hal It will print forever; Because the human programmer; Never wants the love to end;

We were two exploding stars. Trying to catch the others pieces As we were breaking apart.

The trains scream into the void. The students mock them. Then they join in.

I saw a beautiful man. A dangerous man. He had a barbell piercing near his right eye. His lip was pierced. He had a white bandaid on his forehead with a red splotch in the middle. Blood? Unknown. His right arm had tattoos. Black and white. Red and blue Chinese characters. He talked to a girl wearing galaxy biker shorts. About Harry Potter. About medication for anxiety and bi-polar disorder. Why is this campus a melting pot for the mentally ill? What draws me and everyone else here? He pulled a package of cigarettes out of his worn backpack. It was red. Held closed by a few safety pins. He tucked a Marlboro behind his ear as he stood to leave

I am enslaved in the cave that is life. I am chained up, desperately wanting to blind myself with the truth of the fire and beyond. I have unlocked my chains and run to the fire, only to go back and lock myself up again because I am afraid of what I see. It is feckless for me to attempt to fully exit the cave, because I know deep down that I could never give up what I would need to give up to exit the cave fully. I care too much about my family to leave them and exit the cave. I am in limbo between being chained, and the fire. Sometimes, I may even get past the fire but it does not happen often, if at all. I know myself well enough to know ho

I was born a fighter almost dead, couldn’t breathe couldn’t see. But what have I got to fight for in midwest middle upper class white America? I need to fight, but it’s not for my rights. The Man is stifling everyone’s rights, and I need to fight because society thinks that by telling a child bullying is wrong, it won’t matter if their daddy hits them, or they have nothing to eat, or they move around a lot, or their mommy does drugs, because being mean is wrong, even if they have no one to teach them what right is. I need to fight. I need to fight for the kids struggling to understand because society turns a b

It’s so insane. We are taking tests that shape our futures when the prefrontal cortex of our brains Won’t be fully shaped until we’re twenty one. It’s so insane that we are expected to act like adults but are treated like children. Sitting at the kids table another year waiting for our fate to be sealed by strangers reading our words but not hearing our voices. It’s so insane That our educations can be summed up by a number on a scale from one to thirty six. We. Teenagers. The future of the Human Race. Are going insane. As the world tells us to spread our wings it chains us down by restricting our opportunit