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  Aug 2014 TrAceY
Sjr1000
We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.
TrAceY Aug 2014
you vandalized my body
with consent I offered
skin as canvas
my damaged heart
your muse

will I be remembered
as your worst creation
the strokes of bold colors
hiding the statement
you needed to convey

a truth so heavy

will the critics see me
as your worst creation
without knowing
how carefully you painted
every scar
TrAceY Jul 2014
blur of rock, snow, trees
I drift in and out of reality
dream of swimming alone
at night, the sweet danger
your hand on my leg

this highway becomes
endless motion
reach into the grey night
beg a cigarette
off the gypsy woman
desperate
addictions will destroy me
one day, nothing left to do
but wait for the next stop
watch your breath form halos
of precious air on the window
misty and cool                
hey, beautiful stranger
could I rescue you
from sleep, your hand
on my leg feels like nothing
else but it won't last

the driver speaks to me
of wandering souls
in a few hours he promises
we'll be somewhere
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