Words, words, words.
Who would have thought that a finite amount of letters could create an infinite amount of worlds?
"Write because you want to show something. To show that the world is shit. To show how fleeting love and happiness are. To show the inner workings of your ego. To show that democracy is in danger. To show how interconnected we are." Jose Rivera
Thursday, September 8, 2016
the artist survives
city life hopefuls with periwinkle dreams
sing to the stars perched atop evening window sills
stone cold living, concrete calluses with fluttering hearts
butterfly wings nestled in warm silky capes
our DNA dresses the night and greets the morning sun
tonight we dance
tomorrow
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