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Of the last breath - A day dream lived. [String|Data|Nodes|Dossier]
Luminosity

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Of the last breath [Dec. 25th, 2012|01:21 am]
Luminosity
I heard the shot gun blasts today, another body in the city unreported.
Thousands of rape kits throughout the united states, and no one has done anything about them.
Do you think somethings wrong?

They cry about 27 innocents and they should but their are far more than 27 innocents that where harmed today.
Where are their faces, where are their cries.

I could not shut out the screams and the voices they poured through me, their blood on my canvas, their screams in my mind.
21 years of screaming and yet more to bier more to share.

The universe blessed me by it's curses the scintillating pain making me feel every minutiae, I feel everything the spout never goes off.
It never stops the reels keep playing over and over, again and again.
Some have told me you can shut it off and they have, it still hurts just like the first time.

I taste the blood, I feel the blood, I am dying again for the sixth time. How can you die so many times in a life, these are only my bodily deaths, how many times have I been compromised by the things I think and feel.

The actions that where never meant to happen, why can't I stop the biology ascend the body go back to form.
I am here and they are not all of them wanting all of them needing, all of them moving playing and being.

Live for them! Live for them! Live for them.


So I did exploding to life for them, all of the suicides, all of the abused, all of the tormented and tortured created by a million cuts.

What is it when does not decide to be born but is, and still they are given much responsibility through their fragility and feeling.
We are the cherry blossoms blowing in the wind to be caught in celestial currents.
Moon beams and night butterflies about us.
In our mouths deaths heads moths do fly, and feathers are weighed against hearts.

They never die because we live, and their stories are alive in the currents of information throughout the universe.
Recorded in the silent time, throughout all of the numbers and all of their books.

Infinities seeking to find themselves finite for just a moment being held by the fragility of the last breath.

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