The survivors.

Do you ever get the urge

The pull

Deep in your core, to just escape?

Put everything down in your hands

Empty out your living spaces

And run.

Walk across the cut path and step over broken twigs vines and branches

No heading, just knowing

You need to get to the heart of the jungle.

Do you ever wonder

exactly how much you would save

If everything you thought you loved crumbled to burnt ashes

Do you ever ask your self, your true self

Who you are

What you are

At your very centre

Before the world moulded you, shaped and formed you

Into a thing of submission, distraction

A thing without any sense of life’s true art.

If this is all you wonder, don’t worry

There are rebels out there that exist in isolation

Desperate to crumble away the restrictive plaster casts

Peel off all titles and labels and become living art that would rival the prettiest paintings.

We are out here, we exist

Like small sand islands in an expansive ocean

Refusing to let the tide wash over us;

The survivors.

We will find each other soon.

Dani Sophia


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