The Sound of Ink

You torch our ears with promises, gaslight flames to burn us in a corner to camp beneath light we can never own.   Streets are littered with dreams no one can fix and hearts that can’t unbreak, while pulpits and podiums prey on us with pyramid schemes.   What about us … the slivers of rage living on the edge of shadows, torn hearts without needle or desire to stich a country into a flag.   We are different colors…different lovers…different souls… broken bones walking the knife blade of those who are more tender with their prejudices than the humans who suffer at their feet. ©Susie Clevenger 2020 Poets and Storytellers United ~ Weekly Scribblings #23

I’m going to dance, not care about stares, not care about glares. My happy grooves when music moves me to step up and step out. If I smile, you can smile. If I sway, it’s OK. If I clap, it’s no trap. Music doesn’t care how you look, doesn’t care how long it took for you to get over yourself. Bring on the band…I’ll take your hand. There’s no divide when happy glides right up to your seat to get you on your feet. ©Susie Clevenger 2019 Real Toads ~ Juice!