#1
We migrate over the face of chaos
Where Adidas melt to pack-rat dens.
We crawl like wraiths
Through candles spray-painted on the border wall.

High noon
Light burns through the prison slats.
Our shackles chafe until our wrists rupture
Oceans of black sky bursting with constellations.

We sleep in Guadalupe’s womb
The nights our mother dies
And we are told it is illegal for us to pray at her grave.

Our skin is restless cracked clay.
Our bones dance like tanagers
Waiting for rain.

We have been waiting a long time.
Last edited by #1 synth at Apr 1, 2014,
#2
This is absolutely plesant! Who knows how many times it could be re-read? Rich and colorful, fading into grey in the end. The second verse definately could have been extended, it ended to soon.
#7
Great read. Especially the second half.

The only comment I'll make, which is kind of nit-picky, is in regards to:

"High noon
Light burns through the prison slats.
Our shackles chafe until our wrists rupture
Oceans of black sky bursting with constellations."

The second and fourth lines here seem to carry related ideas, at the very least they offer a nice visual contrast to one another. The third line seems to break that idea up, somewhat interfering with it. Content wise I feel like it might run better if the 3rd and 4th line switched places, but that might interfere with the flow that you're going for. I could be way off base here.

Either way this was enjoyed.
#9
Quote by TrigFunction
God damn you're still posting synth?!


God damnnnn, talk about a THROWWWBACKKK
Can You Fill In The Blanks?
#10
Absolutely beautiful!! It's sad, but that makes it realistic and relatable!! That's the beauty of poetry and lyrics! It's therapeutic!