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Childhood Blues

Chanda Bun


Jan. 9, 2019

Red EyEs

Honestly I am sick of you You who resembles me You who I don’t want to see The reflection of your eyes Your pupils dilatingIs just another metaphor of my insecurities Another thing this we E d can’t fixBut it only feels good to be in your presence With a blunt between your lips A sort of restlessness With another puff My eyes water from the smoke Your out of luck


Night Shift

I smile for fifteen dollars an hour I risk my entirety for minimum wage I miss those who are close to me When I become hidden away Behind those counters Those 4x4 walls I tell myself it will be okay That my future awaits While my present day Melts away Like gelato on a cool Monday


Icloud

I am afraid of who I will become to be Will I become distant and detached like sheOr will I be Aggressive and abusive like he As if I were to become what was presought for me Stored in a hard drive labeled heredity Only if I could change U C A G I wonder who I would beBut as I continue to be the very best meI start to see I don't need to be What the world has set out for me


Itsy Bitsy Spiders

Your hands on my body Are like spiders crawling on a window sill Following in the track of the otherWithout questioning one another Even when you falter Together your hands on my body Are like knives on each of your fingertips What has been cut will forever be pierced Even once the heat on my chest disappears With each finger that lingersI am silenced Not a hush Not a fuss You touch And touch And touch
The trees sway The spiders stayAnd I remain the sameWith your hands on my body


Fast For Nonviolence: https://anchor.fm/slamfast

In this podcast our group goes over the possessiveness of the womyn. Staring Ulane Eng, Henessy, and Chanda Bun in tribute for our fast for nonviolence