Hello there,
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Punching Bag.

It doesn't matter how long you neglect me,
Because, when you need a scape goat,
I'm just as tough as the day you first met me.

Hit me all you like, I'll barely budge.
And no matter how hard you throw that punch,
I'll only move closer to you.

Not once will I ever swing back.

You'll find those more well-aquainted with me sometimes call me,
Used Tissue.

When things get a little too messy, I'm the reliable one who cleans you up.
Get sick, I'll take care of you.
A broken heart? I'll dry your tears.
I'll fix your make-up.

Then, when the exitement is over,
Just toss me out.
I won't mind.

As you spend more time with me, I'm sure you'll learn to refer to me as:
Closet, or even Mirror.

A part of the furniture you're used to having around
But even whenyou get bored with the look,
You don't throw me out.

I'm a place to point ot your insecurities,
Then hang them up along side your skeletons, locked inside me.

Then, seeing yourself as better than you are,
Go on with your day.

Go ahead and stick a lable on me reading Story Book,
Even though I'm still fairly empty of fairytales inside.

I won't even read into your faibles;
There's nothing more exciting than a history that never really happened, right?

Make up what you think might be fun to tell before passing me to someone else,
To read and add on more.

But, now that you've gotten to know me better, why don't you call me Staircase?

I let people walk on me, walk all over me 'til they reach the top.

I'll have to warn you about this though.
I'm not made of marble, stone or brick.
I'm made of wood that's been warn away by heavy boots
So, each step is a little less thick.
One of my dusty, rotten boards might give way and you might fall.

Please, don't blame me.
Even with all my identities, I can't change what I am.
As har as I try, I'm still only human.

Am I the parasite?
The leech that latches for days and drains,
The mosquito that ***** and savours the blood,
Do I cling too tight and push you away?
Am I weight that sinks you, deep in the mud?
The weather balloon tether pinned down to the ground,
Superglue poured on the perch of a birdcage,
Am I tear in your plane wing, thirty feet off the runway?
A lead lining to your new kite, recieved on your birthday.

But a bird that doesn't fly can never drop from the sky,
Runway flight failures don't cause a stall and a fall,
A balloon can't be popped by air pressure down here,
And lightning won't strike a kite with no height to it at all.

So maybe I'm the safety net,
A prison tower, but the stablest,
The delicate balance of freedom and danger,
Is something I'm not aquainted with.

Everytime it is morning,
We wake up to her demanding,
While we slept she was running,
With the awakened some.

Isn't that what we are hearing?
Her lovely voice keeps on calling,
It says son swim the ocean,
You must overcome.

Do you believe in you?
My aquainted friend.

No one else makes a difference,
Play attack or play defense,
Sleep back or you commence,
It depends on you.

You've got pain and I've got pain too,
Don't let your emotions control you,
And the shame deny you,
The thing you should do.

You should believe in you,
My aquainted friend.

Many stars will be rising,
Many stars will be watching,
Will you still be in hiding?
Its still up to you.

There is always the rejection,
That could influence your decision,
You might never see provision,
Hold that which is true.

I wish you beleived in you,
My aquainted friend.

The tides will keep rising,
Could be winning or be drowning,
Or on deck and keep dreaming,
I will live on.

Tomorrow it might be over,
You may never really discover,
Not today maybe never,
The rising sun.

You don't believe in you,
This is your end.

I am sick with all this fumbling through the not yet darkened hours
let the anchor of the life that was be now ripped away complete
let mourning of its passing hasten and begin, and in the gritted eating of the dust
find me a solace and release of all the **** of ravaged trust
But this grey and bitter twilight, this death of death not yet
is an illness to the days that must be borne by bones my own
and every morning, in the mouring, I would find a silence still, sweet, and complete
but this unknown hesitation, this nagging fainting hope for all that was and should of been
is worse than any dying, such a thing sweet, final, and complete

So fly, vanish, disappear, depart! Leave to haunt another heart!
Go and keep your light glowing somewhere upon another set cindered coals
leave me here to mourn your parting, to let this story fade in the growing old.
Or for God sake, and for mine, become aquainted finally now with the valley of the floor
set your words to groaning and to praying and to begging in the night
and when your knees have grown sore and stiff from the bending of your will
all might be returned with joy and sweeter pain than weeping at the sight
of a prodigal returning and the end of long numb night
Until then, and if even there should ever come a when,
all is grey and dark and sick
as minute hands remind and memories sharply *****

He sat under a hazy mooned sky.
Mental snapshots
Of the sad layered stories of life
Crept into his haunted dreams.
The inner torture waking him,
His nerves pricking to life.  
A sickening wave of dispair
hit him like a freight train.
Fear had found him.
The shadowy figure of his past,
Swiftly approaching,
Only to send him into sinking depression.
There was no light.
Within the darkness
He became aquainted with his demons.
A war against himself broke loose.
He fought until the bitter end.
Then the sky exploded,
And he was finally at peace.

Their love was like sparkle,
Enclosed in a strong glass jar,
With straps tied around it's head,
To have it saved and delicately spared.
Their eyes empowering the deepest flecks of care,
A gaze so tight, no force could interrept.
Their bodies together, were artistic,
Picturesque and parallel.
They breathed, to inhale the scent of each other's existence.
Their hands intertwining, agonizingly slow,
Feeling the lines and contours of their palms.
They didn't speak much,
A similarity in the flow of thoughts got their minds aquainted.
Their love was like paint.
Colorful,
Always ready to trace towards the dry canvas and fill the blankness.
They didn't love to show,
Their love was the only thing that resonated through their hearts.
Heartwarming, young and inseparable,
Their love was like the smell of books, whether old or new,
But always soothing.
Their love was what true love is drawn of.

               ~kc
                4.1.16

Hello moon,
With your luminous light
Youre existence so peaceful
Taking my fears
Dragging them out of the night
Storing my darkness in your shadows
As our demons are aquainted
You caress my body in your calm
Silencing my worries,
The thoughts vividly painted.
A smile placed upon my face
Now I'm dancing with my angels
Beautiful and serene
Is heaven a real place?  
The nights almost over
It's coming to an end
It's time to say goodnight
Sweet Dreams my dear friend

Its so hard to keep good people in your life.

The ones you care for, you want, you'll do anything for are the 1st to leave with no explanation.

Although the fight for months on end to keep your kingdom alive

Its a battle already lost
But maybe there is an upside
A reason for this tragedy....
Maybe if all of your friends are gone.
They were never meant to be aquainted

I read minds and break hearts.
I break rules then fall apart.
I was living a nightmare, like Freddy vs Jason,
**** left my psyche with Knicks and bruises -
Im the new Anthony Mason,
Mfs was movin foul, soon got upgraded to a flagrant,
I was in the cut bumpin Indicud,
I felt like Elmer Fudd cause of the backstabbing i was facing,
I soon got aquainted..with the fragrance, of defeat,
Thought revenge was sweet,
I had **** twisted like a twizzler,
Jealousy is for the weak,
You gotta live with your decision but them emotions are just visitors,
I couldn't stomach it .
My arrangements was far from edible,
I made a mess of the amendments
Im a of a man mess - I got a list of demands...
Im always on a different tune from the rest of the band,
I refuse to just sit and watch but this is more than i can stand,
Life was a beach..
My coral reef was in disbelief - My castles were made of sand.


You gotta learn to appreciate the darkness.
I was too proud to beg your pardon ,
I preferred the isolation - coulded help but be guarded,
Sometimes you gotta take that step back, like Harden,
And sink some of them boats filled with feelins you been harboring,
I was feeling more like Malcom - less like Martin,
My cruise was less controlled, My directives were departed,
***** I been hard to reach & outta touch,
been tryin to get a grip but been stuck in a rut,
I had an underlying desire to be violent.
My treble was to the left, cue the chelo and the violin,
I felt the hate on my skin and my distain was topical,
My blood was boiling but my climate was far from tropical,
It was a wrap for ****** but my plans always got foiled,
I was ready to strike, so like a cobra - I coiled,
I was quick to bite but took mad damage from the recoil,
****** did me *****, i was just sinkin in the soil,
I would stoop to levels with antics that resembled porch monkeys,
Was supposed to be a boss - but was movin like a flunky.
I was Jefe in my head - but was actin like a *****.
Went from optimizing opportunities to wondering where my optimism  went,
Karma had dropkicked me , left my armor with a dent,
I couldn't get through by just hoping - started swingin for the fence,
Nas said "Life's a *****" - Now Im seeing what he meant...

Dumpster diver, high school dropout,
Aquainted with the voices in his head,
Far be it the best conversations had,
Takes tea with queens, chesire.

I tell you another story of how i exposed my body to someone who made my body an object of lust. I shy away from the facts of i used this form of beauty as leverage to get people to love me. I had no consideration one day id have to tell the person i love who i use to be, and how my body was shared like a dinner table is shared among family and friends. The feeling of not belonging in my own skin sets in like a long winter i just cant escape from because when you see me is it me you see or the girl naive enough to believe a picture or a show would make them stay. I made myself to be an object to be used and so as i hand myself to you im used worn and not as shiny as i use to be. I hope youll still want me after the stories i spin out from my past and into your hands. Your questioning tone makes me shrivel back into myself afraid to come back out because i never realized how bad it had gotten. Ive gotten aquainted with the feeling of letting my body be used for an empty love, thats why when i make love i try and get as close to you as possible and maybe even after i am someone different. I dont do certain things because im not sure your reaction. My body wasnt my own until you showed me how to claim it back.

I love to watch how the blades of grass, dance with the wind and tickle our calves,
   February days like these, where the skies at around 5 in the eve,
Start to look like watercolor paintings, of the best hues of pinks and blues, are but simply amazing.
   With our hearts in tow, we reach the peak and take in the vastness of the land and lifelines before us.
   Stretching for miles, we imagine ourselves, on these rolling hills, that is is our Kingdom and we stand mighty above it.
   Soaking in the beams of translucent gold that cascade from the edges of the clouds and shower us in their warmth.
   The feeling of the sun's rays seeping into our pores, made me wish we were rooted into the crust beneath us, like the flowers we had just been aquainted with moments before.
   As the sun sets, it changes the reflects in your eyes from what was a brilliant amber, to a smooth medium roast, just like the coffee you drink.
Your soft caramel tufts fall freely with no direction upon your forehead.
   It's days like these, on these rolling hills, that demand my attention.
It's the smiles, and the laughs that we share, that remind me why it's so, okay, to feel.

Hi, to the girl in the mirror
surrounded by whispered thoughts that she cant bare to let near her
After 365 days born bare to 'its going to be okays'
Ive found myself here
Writing lines of listness sentiments
Conjured by nothing more than the kind of days that just
Push you forward
Look back and acknowledge the wars that have hit
The first words i ever truly spoke were written in verse that intend to awaken the feelings, intense and resided in the deepest pits my heart prefers to just hide behind
And i spoke
"Whose to prune whats wrecked by june a stable mental health",
Sequenced by the conscientious tribute to the idea that no one gives a **** till we are too far gone

And i acknowledged earlier that we check up on one another by means of regarding our emotional well being
But turning that depth into a casual convening is as degrading as conveying thoughts of have a good day in simile to i hope youre okay
But we all still turn a cold shoulder when individuals confess that theres more to their thoughts like ideals and sick plots

Revolving around means to an end...
Meaning to end, whatever means that it takes to mend the loose thread that threatens to unravel our minds
Ends that means the meaning will suspend and life will carry on as it was meant to be drawn with out the sick pictures and sadistic gunctures pinched in mental health

So last week i confessed that i dislike being asked how im feeling.
Its hard when it feels like my thoughts are worth hearing but theres scarcely a stage set to display the things in my mind
Its just a hello and good by
Never a look you like you cried
Is there something inside that youd like to get out
Via a hug or a shout
throw **** down and surround yourself in the darkest of spirals
The hands reached are set higher than you can step towards in your mind
The pain aches from your thighs
Dear god can u listen
Step mom,  dad turn to my glistening eyes

Yes id love to listen
Switch paths and condition yourself to adjust that deep yearning
The thoughts, feelings meant to keep earning the right to be listened to
Ill listen to you and pour my heart out
Gut my emotions like its light out and ive got nothing to lose
Nothing was dark in june
Or july
Or august to december
Theres nothing in my thoughts that could ever drag me below the ground

So open up to me now.
I love you, sweetheart of course its okay.

And another day
More words are spoken
ive taken 2 seconds to confess my thoughts to you and no i wont re write or re read this.
Im not gonna edit or adjust speed to this
Authentic expression of thoughts that i dont let get out very often its just
The path that has brought me to this is a sweet cocktail of fuckery that lays waste to my mind
But in the case that it resides with you i thought id reach out with a hymme or two a few stanzas of thoughts that run rampid in my mind

Consider yourself aquainted, with a portion of me.
A fraction of the depth i wish will succeed me
A successor to the results that the pressure ive endured has sent to me
I lay now and recite to you these words
Forget that youve ever heard it
Don't yearn for it just lie down
Rest your head and let me kiss your crown and your temples

If youve listened this far i want to wish that those wrinkles set above your eyes will fade ever softer because listen to these lines

I know you aren't always okay;
I am proud of you;
I can tell that youre trying very hard;
I appreciate you;
You are precious and deserve the rest that seems to just slip from your grip and flow straight down the sink grate that holds gate to your mind
Trickle down spine to your heart
So let me fill you up with the kind words that youre starving of

I know i cant compensate for everything that has past
Just as i know these poems are worth nothing more than the past few minutes ive spent writing them
So good night to me then
The girl in the mirror

deep in a dark forest below
stood a boy in a field (a good fellow)
he lived a life well aquainted with grief
but the pain and torture would be brief
he decided it would not get him down
for one day he would earn his crown
in the kingdom of love and heavenly song
he knew he'd find that place where he belonged
quite some time later the pain grew too much
for his life he could no longer clutch
he blinked but once and then awoke
in a place he knew he could call home
here in his home he earned his crown
and met his father who never frowned
pain he could no longer feel
for in his new home it was not real