Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
You don’t need anyone to light you up.
Don’t ever let anyone else become
your sun, you are your own sun.
I believe that it is necessary to find
your moon, the person that you
reflect off of, and the person that you
fall into special kind of gravity with,
but no one should ever become your sun.
You are your own sun and you must
be your own source of light and life,
because once someone else
becomes your sun, and once that
sun falls into another’s orbit,
all of the flowers you’ve planted
shrivel up and die in darkness.
You must be your own sun.
Someone once told me
That I was beyond
What the night sky
Had to offer.

And like a silly young woman,
Not knowing how beautiful the stars are,
I believed them.

What a mistake that was.
The night sky was beyond what I was. Even just the stars alone.
the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous

luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves

when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised


and so the job,
our work,
begins
I spoke to my partner babe
at our place and everything's well.
I sure feel a lot of love babe.

I met with my friend babe
at the bar and everything's good.
I've sure got a lot of love babe.

I saw my partner and friend babe
in the street and everything's clear.
They've sure got a lot of love babe.

Spoke with my sister babe
at her home and everything's
much clearer now.
I sure hear a lot of lies babe.

Talked to my brother babe
at his flat and everything's
oh so ******' clear.
I sure hear a lot of ******' lies babe.

Listened to my demons babe
in my head and everything's clear.
I sure feel a lot of hate babe.

Met with my solicitor babe
in my prison cell and
everything's gone.
I sure feel ****** babe.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Revenge tends to come back around babe.
Some call it karma babe.
The vulture is a peaceful bird
She watches, circles patiently
Waiting for life to become death
So she can gather what she needs

The vulture does not maim or slay
And causes neither harm nor strife
She walks in the shadow of death
And so turns death back into life

— The End —