annual emerging poets slam 2017

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We were all small town folks once, Runnin' and laughin' and pickin' on the town dunce. He was a small town fella', that one, Always sayin' stupid things, always lookin' for fun.
Temples are quiet places for forbidden kisses, for moments in which the world does not exist, but is collapsing, as if the giant holding us up decides to let us fall, as if no gods can reach us.  
I exist to please. But I must breathe, inhale and exhale, only the sharp cold air that compresses me out, that cages me in.   What do I see? Nothing, but I long for more.
Dragged out of my chest, my veins searched for it’s source of life. She was not there.   The look of shame in her eyes.
Broken dreams, shattered heart "Reach for the stars," they said But how could she when there were rules to follow? Order. Obedience.   They told her it was for her own good.
Dark rooms, and broken floors. Talking low, and running slow. You broke me down, now I'm out. So tell me why I still miss you. Best Friends Forever is the biggest lie.
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