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excerpt from my spoken word

This is not a trend, not a millennial movement. Avocado toast isn't gonna delete your carbon footprint. This isn't about your "personal choice", it's generational cultivation of voice. We're brainwashed by the internet. Companies that blame us, and won't admit to it. Our world is dying at the fault of industry, this isn't an issue of you and me

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We don't need rainbows, butterflies, or white lies because we can see the world through our own eyes.

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Slutty strumpet. Brainless bimbo. Wanton whore

Rich labels that hold no value.

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Success. Silence. Poverty. Perspicacious.

A woman's success comes with silence and submission. A child's poverty brings them knowledge when no one will listen.

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This is far bigger than solar panels, thrift shopping, and an electric car, or any other way to show the world how "great" you are.

-via (Pupper's blog)

http://girlnamedpup.blogspot.com/2019/03/our-plant-is-not-trend-spoken-word.html

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I made a blog. Right now it's very philosophy based. Give it a look my friends

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Cave of Fear

My fear is a cave. It's spacious and home-y. Tricks ya into thinking it's definitely not a cave. Afterall though it is a cave, which means there is no door. At any moment I could walk out.

But why walk out of the cave when the blankets of insecurities are wrapped so tightly, a soft comforting tightness, around me? They integrate their way into the skin. They paint new colors of skin over my body. I became a darkly shaded piece of fabric, artwork for a cave of deception.

A caveman fire seems to warm the room from the frigid outdoors. Another layer of protection to guard the timid soul. In reality the flicker of light bouncing against the walls in a soothing hypnotic way is just a way of distracting me from the patterns it burns into my eyes.

The cave has personified itself through me. This poorly spoken of cave of fear has covered the stone walls in glass, showing nothing but reflections of myself. The cave is me and I am one with my cave. Leaving the cave is leaving what I have believed to be a pieces of myself behind.

I know when I learn to leave my comforting, and yet suffocating, rock home I'll discover a different version of myself. It's just a difficult decision to make trying to decided when I am ready for a self resurrection.

There is a happier me standing outside in the cold air waiting for me to exit the deadly tavern I call my safe haven. Though need not worry. I'm making my way to her. Unfortunately my clock is ticking and my cave is now crumbling.

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It's in the darkest of rooms that I shine my brightest

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I will become every word you call me.

I will shape into every image you force on me.

I will become your idea of perfection.

I will at least dying trying.

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I have my moments. Even if this isn't one of them.

- How I write.

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The Fabric Shop of Love

Old Sandpaper: Seems abrasive, touched with caution. Though worn down. Just rough enough to fuel your desires in bed.

Velvet: Warm and welcoming. Wrapped up by the fire on cold winter nights. Comforting relaxtion.

Silk: Moves quick in the breeze. Swift, skilled, and scurrying to serve supper.

Felt: Gentle and malleable to shape whatever image your parents and you may wish for. Be the woman you'd marry.

Diamond sheet: Star of it all. You can show me off and make others jealous.

Thread: Be there to stitch us back together when we crumble. I will hold us together even when I am old and worn. The foundation of it all.

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I know this isn't poetry but it's for my school and it'd be great if you could read it and possibly share it as well!

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Professor: Who do you wish you got to listen to more?

Me: Myself.

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I wish more people read and wrote spoken word. Not only are they written beautifully and poetic but they always have a lesson. They attack issues that the writers have and just makes them so powerful. We can't let poetry die.

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These are very similar to my beliefs. Now you know frens 🙂

Lucifer

I don’t think the ‘devil’ is evil, I don’t think he’s a scary red monster with gigantic horns, I don’t think he’s half man half animal, I don’t think he’s any of the common stereotypes.

I do believe he’s a fallen angel, rebellious against the norm. I believe he’s felt pain, anger and suffering. But I don’t believe he’s evil.

I believe people have done evil in his name. And it’s easier for them to believe, opposed to believing evil has been done in the name of their precious god.

I can relate.

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I need a push