I sprang from within the studio,
From the high-paneled mirrors and the smooth round barres,
Perfectly in my own sphere as existence blurs into abeyance.
The buffed pink satin whirling on the marred gray floor,
The concrete thud of falling back down to earth after flying through the air.
The familiar strains of ethereal music echo in the space around me
My fingers stretching to reach past the stars into that perfect oblivion.
I can float on that cloud later for hours
As my body sings with satisfaction for a good class.
I come from the studio, my heart dancing after me.
Betty Chen
WingedTalon@gmail.com
Before government, there was no flag. I do not hate my country, I hate political evolution. No government owns land. As global market is lent and owed, the global budget remains the same- in which, does not consist of any sort of progression. Global economy contains a larger debt than the United States alone. Natural values belong to everyone-
Why so much greed, if all your personal values amount to nothing?
(Source: gentlemans-etiquette-101)
livetotellthetale asked: Mannn I wish I could write the way you do
Thank you, dear. Much appreciated.
Unwanted by nations; now unwanted by myself.
Unwanted amongst One; shadowed by Someone else.
Overseen and towered and shipwrecked on Earth,
I’m redefined in my personal value and worth.
Unwanted by races; looked down on by faces.
Haunted by stresses yet blessed by countless graces.
I’m blinded and deafened and crippled by riches,
Smothered embraces of scalp, wrist and ankle stitches.
I’m wanted by fogs of warmth and calm sounds.
I bloom like dead buds that never pierce grounds.
I soar through these airs that absorb me like filters.
I sojourn by Light past invisible figures.
KANEtwo-
mass-suicide.tumblr.com
You live to die, you love to break.
I hate to laugh but laugh with hate.
I hate love and love hates me.
A blackened heart to me means peace.
I die to live to live in death.
I yell my words to save your breath.
I spit on graves of those that passed,
so deaf they couldn’t hear the blast.
Remember to remind yourself to forget.
You make three rights but don’t turn left.
I don’t care for those who never cared for me.
No, sorry; but that is not called greed.
I just look out for me,
the fog’s so thick that I can’t see.
Life has no worth,
live it right; I’ll rot the earth.
Maybe I just walk too blindly, tripping over my own two feet.
I can’t feel any concern from anyone that once knew me.
Maybe I should bury myself above them, so their demons look up to me. Manifesting in tangible entities.
I keep smiling, but it’s not what I mean.
Haunt the earth, excorcise these humans out of me.
I find it cold when they leave,
my jaws spread over them while they sleep.
You’re dirty on the inside, dirty on the out.
Moral in your mind but immoral on the out.
You think you’re only living, young is your excuse.
Freedom of expression is your personal abuse.
Your rebellion has no power, you blend in with your crowd.
Your voice has no volume, it’s in sync with many sounds.
You don’t support the war but you bully other kids.
You debate my fact with your opinion which is why you never win.
The art to contradict.
You’re a living narcissist.
Killing yourself with self respect.
Where did it go,
all the times
nature valued human life?
It took the turn
for the worse
that laws now value mine.
Too poor to care
too small to talk
don’t think I will survive.
I won’t be clear
it’s me they fear
all because I’m still alive.
I pay to breathe
that’s like the trees
asking Grandfather for properties.
Don’t take me, please?
Not ready to leave.
I need more time to succeed.
My value is not my life!
I should never know
what I’m worth
until the day I die.
Free Value- KANEtwo
Animosity101.tumblr.com
Je l’ai longtemps observé, pourtant il m’a que rarement remarqué. Son sourir fin découvrait son humeur et les marques de son visage racontaient son histoire. Elles contournaient ses yeux
qui avaient du voir plus d’une beauté, elles formaient des pattes d’oiseau. Ayant goûté à la douce liberté. Et les traces coulaient de tristesse passant ainsi par ses joues, qui se sont étirées nombreuses fois d’Allégresse et se sont fannées de peines. Elles n’étaient en fait qu’une signature, la dur labeur de gouttes d’eau sallées. Que furent un jour ses larmes versées son coeur déversé, envahi de sentiments nouveaux, epuisé d’experiences passé.Peignant ainsi un paysage complexe de lianes et de ruisseaux, d’où ressortent deux pupilles qui brillaient de douceur et de maux, qui me fixaient de stupeur et d’interrogation. Sur ce ton il se leva, puis vers la sortie il se dirigea. Et sans faire attention il ne m’a que rarement remarquée, alors que par admiration je l’ai longtemps observé.
