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Kina Oct 2014
I can't begin to fathom how to describe how this feels.
It feels good like a cup of coffee in the morning,
But it also feels like an afternoon crash.
It feels like a high so good
But also a withdrawal most painful.
It feels like everything
Yet nothing at the same time.
Kina May 2014
My horoscope told me that I should think creatively today. It told me that I should write and so here I am, attempting to write a poem.

Little does my horoscope know that my mind is unable to function.

"Write something clever! You will create something great!" My horoscope instructs me but unfortunately that task is easier said than done, but I try because I want to fit in. All the cool kids are doing it.

However, nothing but loud noises come out and the writing police come to get things under control.

My brain has been arrested for causing a public disturbance.

Writers block has taken over. It is a cell block in my mind where all of my creative ideas have been cuffed, thrown into a corner, and forced to *** with rusted metal bars offering no privacy.

It's humiliating.

As I sit in my little jail cell I think about what I've done and how I could never come back here again.

"Next time," my brain tells me, "Don't listen to your horoscope."
Kina May 2014
You and me.
I demand.
Be.
Now.
In love.

*Finally.
Kina May 2014
She wears:
Skimpy dress.
Tight shirt.
Short skirt.

I say:
Women shouldn't have to.
I give: 
Empowerment. 

You say:
But men do too.
Bare chest.
V lines.

I say:
Yes but--

You say:
No but.

Society holds it's grip on women.
Suffocating us everyday.
Fitting us into boxes each day.
Telling me what to wear,
How to do my hair.
Forcing paint upon my face to give
Me a face unrecognized.

Rewrite my name to something seductive,
Marilyn.
Regina.
Not the name given to me,
Hard to pronounce and 
Not found on a gift shop key chain. 

So I tell society to take their standards
And shove them
Because I will not be like the ******* the bus
With scars and cuts across her arm.
"Fat ***" carved into her porcelain skin.

Dear Society,
I am me. I am not you.
I wrote this for a scholarship application and liked it, so here  it is.
Kina Apr 2014
To the girl in my fourth grade class
Who minimalized my award,
Making my accomplishments unimportant.
I forgive you.

To the other girl in my class
Who convinced me that none of
The other girls liked me.
I forgive you.

To the group of girls
Who watched me cry numerous days in the cafeteria
Because I sat alone,
Uninvited, unimportant,
During lunch.
I forgive you.

To the same group of girls
Who didn't see me cry at 10th birthday party
Because none of them had cared to show up.
I forgive you.

To the ******* the bus
Who picked on me daily,
Causing me to return home in tears everyday.
I forgive you.

To the girl in the fifth grade
Who called me fat at the lunch table.
I forgive you.

To the same girl
Who told me that I couldn't wear my
American Girl shirt because the color of my skin
Meant that I wasn't American.
I forgive you.

To my friends
Who hadn't dare speak up on my behalf.
I forgive you.

To my mother
Who made me invite her to my birthday party,
You're lucky that she didn't show up.

To all of the kids out there
Who dread going to school,
Dread looking at themselves in the mirror,
And dread existing,
Forgive the bullies and forgive yourself.

Forgive yourself
For allowing them to tear you apart
And get so deep
Under your skin that parts of them still remain.

To myself. I forgive you.
forgiveness bullying childhood sad
Kina Mar 2014
You are beautiful.
Without all of the designer clothes.
Without the twelve pounds of make-up.
You are beautiful.

You are beautiful.
Not the lengths of your legs.
The width of your waist,
Or the size of your *******.
You.
You are beautiful.

You are beautiful.
Under all of your scars.
Beneath all of your pain.
You are beautiful.

Your knowledge.
Your light.
Your love.

The person you are on the inside
You know the one,
The one you hide away because you
Can't bare to let the world see.
That part of you.

The part you are ashamed of
Gives you your beauty.

Embrace it
Because you are beautiful.
beauty self-esteem beautiful inner-beauty
Kina Mar 2014
Hand in hand.
Skin to skin.
Together we dance.

Our lips do a jig
So simple
Yet so beautiful,
So powerful.

Together we are invincible.
Our moves unmatched
And our rhythm unparalleled.

Together we are the fox trot,
The tango,
The cha-cha,
Or a simple step.

We are everything under the lights of the
Ballroom chandelier.
We are everything under the moonlight of the
Gazebo.

Classic.
Elegant.
Love.
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