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Confined in these lines, how much movement is mine How much deviance is permissible without going too far as to be  Unacceptable  Unaddressable  Unprofessional 
  "I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be."  ~ Joan Dideon  
You came to Iowa, married, divorced. He wanted you to be small. You wouldn’t have it. No one can contain you, Extraordinary woman.
Alright, sweetheart. What’s this about acting the victim, Again? Your dress is stained, my dear, And your hair a rat’s nest. 
Her cracked fingernails Are now covered in a fresh varnish That shimmers Like a clouded jewel freshly polished.   Her bloodied lips
1.24.15 I won't make you promises, I won't tell you lies, Most of the time One of us cries. One cries for love, One cries for food, One cries because They're in a bad mood.
We all grow up, but we don't all glow up. Some of us just need to take responsibility and show up. Helping others by learning about the injustices, we get woke up.
O Miles Per Hour Freedom, foot on pedal Propels my machine of metal   20 miles per hour Windows down Volume up Off the grid
Flipping pages late into the night, Reading about Thomas Jefferson’s accomplishments The great things he did I wanted to do something great, unprecedented
I can stage a small rebellion  anytime, even at dinner. Sucking, gnawing citrus proudly as the others inhale pie. 
Twelve year olds these days reminds us of how cringe-worthy we used to be and that's probably why we give them so much shit. Ya'll wanna pretend you weren't starting fires and stealing cigarettes
Words flow from my pencil. Feelings flow from my heart. A simple pattern forms from my mind. A simpler pattern forms from my feelings. Who is to say what makes me "right?" Who is to say what makes me whole?
I see red rivers of blood not merely puddles You would think that this is a horror story But this a contiguous continuous struggle   America you are a bully
We're living a silent violence Locked on everyone else's frustrations Afraid of climbing our own mountainsWe find peace in this violation We can't breath pure airIt stinks everywhere 
Pain in the Ass   From the moment I was born I have been a complete pain in my mothers ass, literally, red faced and over eager to escape  where I came from, I broke her tailbone.
Pain in the Ass   From the moment I was born I have been a complete pain in my mothers ass, literally, red faced and over eager to escape  where I came from, I broke her tailbone.
I wanted to work with the idea of void that John Stezaker had when he created a collage of ready made post card and filled these images inside faces.
To the slaves of freedom.
My people hunted here, Where white people now stand, And where are my brothers, In Oklahoma, where we were pushed away. My friends are hated, For being black, Asian or Hispanic,
Those moments of immortality they hit us in bursts; bold bright beautiful remiding us that we are the stars that shoot across the night sky the storms that rage against the gulf shore.
You just cannot tell me To respect the men in blue When I'm still a runaway, Post-slave to the system Still a blooded Indian Still a blooded African Still the 'other American in their eyes.
Closed walls, walled hearts narrow halls, hollow parts. A man alone, set apart Black Turnstone, hidden heart. High throne, thin skin
Its not easy They said You'll have to struggle They said Don't be a rebel They said I didn't even intend to be one However there were other things They never said
With unsteady hands and a shaky spirit
Break down Shimmer and crumple Let them glide with a stride so perplex As men begin to withstand the precocious Demands of his brethren                          Let the people speak
We have tolerated too much already. We have been left to clean up the mess. From now on, you will be stripped of your identity. Your children will be taken away form you. Beware, we will find you.
Cold water to the face like an electric shock. You dropped everything you were doing and your mouth is all locked. 'Cause you didn't want to talk.  And they can't make you.
As a seed we learn and soak in experiences and hurt. Our growth is formed solely in our direction whether we follow the light of the sun or the dark of the room. But to learn in the right we must be taught by another.
Uprising, insurge
Should I stay, Should I go, Should I pray, Even for a foe? Should I walk, Should I run, Should I talk, Show my ideas a little sun? Should I stand tall, Should I crumble and weep,
Cut me open Run dry my veins What do you see? Red For fire For passion For anger and betrayal For revenge Action Survival Power Rebellion I seethe with it.
Yeah you only live once That's why you got to live smart trying to get ahead in life can't be making shots in the dark But hear me clearly cant get nowhere if you don't try
Perfection, Caught in a moment so complex that the average mind cannot comprehend such an unexpected necessity.  To lie in arms, embracing what is and doomed never to be. 
It was a place in the 1940's where all the foxes still hung up on swing would go to lick the floors and taste the walls. Vigil and roaring, it held the blistered soles of vagabonds,
We get punished for not meeting your expectations  Of getting the grades and acing our examinations With disappointment slapped across your faces The feeling of shame has become our number one basis  
  So this is me Shoegazing Always An epiphany And your garage rock sound Does nothing to stir me I just sit back Watching the flow Smooth over my edges
I'm tired of pretending I'm happy. I'm tired of pretending I'm okay. I'm tired of pretending I don't care, when there's so much more I could say. I'm crying out, but no one hears.
I hate you dad It’s not personal though
I don’t think they understand it This building is not where our lives end or began   When I go home I don’t think about equations and test dates Yeah- I am more concerned with family and friends  
Sapphire eyes Made by fire And burned by years Created to search   They search Scanning the crowd Making a point To avoid the walls   Shiny toy guns Slippery flesh
We are undefined by words alone, the ones who stand, the rolling stones. They will say stand out in a crowd and try something newBut heaven forbid that you actually do.
Fragment No. 1 …I keep my mouth closed  I don’t try to speak But I can feel my bones Rebelling My blood is screaming, “REVOLUTION! REVOLUTION!! LIBERTA! LIBERTA!!” My bones are howling,
They built these walls to protect me At least that's what they said. "Monsters, demons and darkness live Beyond these high stone walls" Entrigued I was by their small fact
I am finished. This has gone on for far too long. Trying to fit into your box of expectations had been my only goal since childhood. I see now that your expectations are not me. I won't let you define my life.
You stand there, hand raised, blank stare, that ‘I don’t give a damn’ smirk scrawled across your face. Nostrils flare when you realize I stand here. No no-good, condescending, ‘coulda been better than this’, is gonna stand in my way.
Eyes forward. Chin up. Chest out. Head high. Stiff upper lip, now; that's it. You've got it. Don't slouch. Fall in line. Step lively. Look pretty. Lather. Smile. Repeat.
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