Why does my heart still race when I see you?
I saw you walking today, with your friend, and all I could think was "Wow. Is this what a heart attack feels like?"
Because I can't believe it, I was done. I was OVER you.
And instead my heart goes "Beep... Beep... Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEP," every single time you come around, like a freakin radar.
I am not a submarine.
I do not NEED for every single cell in my body to alert me when you're within 20 feet of me because, like I said before, I WAS DONE.
No! Don't you dare smile at me with your crooked mouth and shining eyes.
Because then I feel gross.
I DON'T LIKE THE THOUGHT OF BUTTERFLIES FLYING AROUND IN MY STOMACH.
That is disturbing and physically impossible.
My stomach acids would've killed them on contact. Don't try to make this crush cute.
So please, for the love of a Jesus Christ Super Toaster, don't do THAT anymore.
And by "THAT" I mean, don't make me love you anymore.
I can't stand it and I won't for any longer.
In church I was taught that having idols was bad, but that's exactly what you are to me.
A forbidden fruit
So I am praying to God that you are a mango because I hate mangos.
Their insides are too thick and outsides way too thin.
Which is exactly like you because you are a haywire of emotions, but I can easily peel you away to see who you really are.
Maybe I do like mangos...

The first time I touched his small little hands

It was exquisite to the touch

Such soft sweet little hands...I smiled with mother pride

The first time I lay his tiny little feet to my mouth

My senses were reeling with the delicate little feet

Then I lay claim to those eyes...big wonderful almond shaped eyes

There was laughter as he stared right back at me...then from that

To an aching love that only a small child could give

With an unconditinal love, I touched his delicate skin

Lovingly I caressed the wonder of my boy

My tiny...Little...Wonderful boy.... ooh what joy

©Kaila George 2013

A parent’s love is never ending

As we watch, our children grow

We pick them up and mend their bruises

We want to kiss the pain away

Tenderly we give them love

Holding them closer to our hearts

We read them stories every night

Just before, we tuck them into bed

Then they would weave their own version

Of how Tommy took my toy

The story told so heart rendering

As you want to hold him close

Then years pass on by

With each game or story or lullabies

You watch him grow from child to man

In addition, he starts to spend more time with friends

Then late at night, when he returns home

He slowly starts to shrug his shoulders

As you, ask him ‘Where Have You Been’!

You spend hours just before

Just wondering where he went

All I can say to those who wait

Alas, that is all that we can do

Hope and pray that they are ok

And returns safe home to you

©Kaila George 2013

Sometimes in life

When you're not unsure

Of things that make it right or wrong

When, were, how and why does this carry on


You then ask yourself

with uncertainty and doubt

If at times what you learn

is indeed the truth

General things that affect your life

Often affect the way you think


A person dies and a baby cries

And you wonder is that all there is in life

Religion, war, societies will there ever be world peace

Time passes on as the sands of time

Slowly takes away your strife

Because as you grow you live and learn

You taste the knowledge, the tree of life


Many will say that's not the way

In spirit you must always be

But to hold them both

Hand in hand is the only way to be

Will I be condemned in what I believe?

You tell me….just another random thought of mine


©Kaila George 2013

There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.

Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.

Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.  
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.

But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?

In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.

Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.

So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?



©NDHK

What is a calling and
who is calling you now?
Is your spirit calling you
to do the work of god?
Is the calling a new
hope for you in time?
Is time a calling for
you to change your ways?
Are the calling's a guide
for your new life success?
No one will know what
your calling is what to be.
Only you will know what
your calling will bring you.
-Sign LINK THE HERO OF TIME-