SynysterEyes

There is a girl With thorns in her eyes Grinning Glasgow smiles Clawing incessantly at the Seams That seamlessly seem To hold her together And she munches and crunches On her teeth Gums sore and bleeding But it’s something to do Her voice like a drill through concrete Shrill Grating Like her pockmarked skin Oozing a mixture Of puss and abandonment She sighs As she Drags the soles of her feet Maggot ridden and itchy Desperately searching For sleep.

Spoken word. How do I even begin? Into this world they say we are born... without sin, Without hate, Without the ability to slate, To desecrate, To shut down, To cut down, All we are given- is the ability to take, Take in our surroundings, The noises, the sounds, And yet from the beginning we are always bound, Bound tight, Sewn, Into the clockwork system, Eventually we are taught, Not to take the time to listen. Open your eyes, Surprise! Look, at the colours you see Seas of people each with his or her own nationality Pour salt into my eyes Make me cry Though blurry eyed, The beauty still seeps in- Keep it in,