Unhappy MillennialZ creates and connects people with short stories, poems, spokenword and visual art. Always believe something wonderful is about to happen.
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We looked inside some of the posts by rachealninentyfiveme-blog and here's what we found interesting.
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3
Likes Per Post
3
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0
Reply Per Post
0
Time Between Posts
23 hours ago
Number of Posts By Type
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4
Text
9
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4
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Ain’t No Way
He has me locked in here . my walls are my escape. My imagination can run as wild. I stop for a second and wonder what the outside looks like. I hear footsteps outside. The woman wearing a long coat and black hair running up and down. My hand betrays me. I look at my body in the mirror, dress up a little and lay. My hands start shaking, my mind is racing and my brain wont settle. I can feel my heart pumping through my chest as I slowly run out breath and lose focus. It doesn’t feel so good having my brain wanting to escape my skull. Articulation and I are complete strangers.
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I Don’t
Gotta suffer no more when I believe brighter and better days are coming. When even the darkest of days has me feeling comfortable and more optimistic than ever before. If you don’t notice a change, you are being blinded by the temporary substance. I don’t fear what is ahead nor do I look back at what has been left behind. Every time my head touches that pillow, sleep comes so easy and getting off that pillow, I wake with satisfaction and gratitude. Better days are coming and I Don’t. WHAT?
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move
Just get lost in parts, take up some identity and lose yourself. if you buy a passport they will trace you. Are you really lost then? But if you take the long walk across the longest bridge that will close in on the border and blend in with the locals they may trace you again but are you really lost? Get lost!
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Young Queen
Young queen forget his troubles and get through your struggle. Raise that child, get that job, that degree, get angry, cry, breathe, scream and break that barrier, wear that skirt , those leggings, let that hair out , that lipstick, that book and that film, that bottle of wine and that time alone. Where’s the youthful you, The I don’t give a fuck you? The I want to play outside you? Talk more, drink more, exercise more, breathe more, cuss more, love more and most of all scream more. Be blessed and be humble.
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Smoke
Does the way she looks at it make your hairs rise on your body? As she gazes slowly, deeply at what you can’t see, thoughts of anger, bitterness, tirade and violence creep into you mind while the sun shines bright on your face and the wind blows your cares away. Mystery surrounds you both. You wonder how you got there, next to her, why at that particular time and day that train stopped a minute early than usual. Then you realise, It’s just an illusion. You’re on your way to Sainsbury's to grab a carton of milk for your cereal at home.
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Youth
You draw me into the boxes, you squeeze me into tiny spaces but my voice exceeds your expectations, my head is so big and my dreams are enormous your ego would burst. I am not your spokeswoman nor do I need the pressure bestowed upon me to make your vision a reality. Our times re not calling for a martin Luther king nor a Malcom X . Our times now call for a Muhammad Ali, Rosa Parks and we have a Floyd Mayweather. I am not going to lead a rebellion but I am here to create paths and build bridges. I am a s sensitive soul. I want to be inspired and I want to inspire. The powers that be will not suppress my voice and my longing to tell the truth in my heart .
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Spirit
The kid knows no better. she puts her faith in what she believes but wants it sooner. you can smell the impatience as much as she tries, her mind doesn't settle. All those questions in her head as she gets up to take control of the day wondering, meditating and visioning what should be but still left questioning “What do I do now” ? Her skin itches, her eyes water and her back aches at the knowing that there’s little with in her control. so much time but lacks use of the hand that ticks away. she looks forward to the next day but spirit doesn’t always burn in her afterall but her appearance is kept to that of which sees in her minds eye.
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PEN
I desire to be touched in many ways I can’t imagine. My Mind is filthy with all that he whispers to me. when he moves closer, legs weaken, eyes role in the back of my mind, I am ready to be eaten alive by his soul that traps my thoughts constantly, consistently .
He knows not of me , my thoughts. DO they cross his mind I wonder. But it doesn’t stop me from picturing him in his whole and might, majestic and fresh. He peaks through the shower curtains. My toes tighten, my body weakens as I stare right through his soul and picture my aspirations.
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Mind?
I do mind when you touch and caress my cheeks while you tell me how they feel. I am not a touchy feely person who adores unnecessary attention but you give me too much. More than my mother did when I was a baby. some how you have me thinking its for the best and its for my own good while you have me trapped in this cubicle where I can barely move or breathe. You underestimate me because I am a woman. Because of my size and weight but my mind has you down to a T. I will wrestle you in many ways you’ve never imagined and I will always , always come out a winner!.
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