Mykenzie

Mykenzie Apr 2018

A little girls world
is full of happiness.

It consists of fairies, and princesses,
princes, and dolls.

Tears are from joy,
and sadness is a dragon,
that was slain to set her free.

A little girls world
is the purest place on Earth,
where there is no pain,
sadness, or hurt.

A little girls world,
should never be crumbled.

Mykenzie Apr 2018

Still Images

A rose in the grass,
plucked from the bush.
It'll die soon.
They all do.

A butterfly on the swing,
on a cool summer evening.
It just came out of the cacoon.
Some don't make it this far.

A little girl,
on the top of the slide.
Smileing from ear to ear.
Don't you wish we were all that happy?

Freeze time and all is beautiful.
There is no pain.
There is no hurting.

Freeze time and all is well.
The frowns are smiles,
The tears are dried.

Freeze time,
but it must resume sometime.

Mykenzie Apr 2018

Easter Sunday

In the kitchen I was called.
"How do you feel about death" Mom asked
I didn't really know how to respond. Such a weird question.
I was only 13, and had little experience with the topic in question.
I shrugged, "I don't know"

"Mary died"
the 2 words that ruined my once favorite holiday.
My nana, my best friend.
The one who took some secrets to the grave.

4 years ago
That's when I last saw her.
4 years ago.
She was healthy, aside form MS.
She ate healthy,
didn't drink alchohol.
We went on walks,
she helped me practice for baseball,
football, and softball.

Life doesn't last forever,
I knew that.
I just didn't know it'd end so soon for someone so loved.

Mary Wilson
RIP
Mom, daughter, sister, Nana.
January 14, 1960- April 15, 2017

She was my best friend.
This is over a year late and its poorly written. Sorry

Apr 2018

Chris

Who Am I?

Who am I?
Who is this person I see in the mirror?
I don't know.
Much has happened since I met this Person.
Good, bad, and everything in between.
Now, I don't know who this is.
All the hiding, all the pretending.
All for naught as I have lost my true self.
Who am I?

Mykenzie Apr 2018

10w

They find better people,
and I become distant and forgotten.

Every single time

Mykenzie Apr 2018

smoke and Cyanide

Blades of smoke pass through my hair,
Cutting; oxidising; as the smoke is slowly rising
through the tower of my power as I vainly gasp for air.

Cyanide, it seems, can comfort me a while,
as I'm breathing; screaming and repeating
smoky words into the floor's mute bathroom tile.

But my power is all gone; all wrong.
Oxidise: Cyanide.
Once more into my lungs.

Mykenzie Apr 2018

forgotten

I
am
forgotten.

I once was this beautiful bright flower,
then he came along and plucked me from my spot.
He stuck me in a vase,
watered me,
nurtured me.
Then forgot me.

I
am
forgotten

I was the blue sky,
and he was the red sky.
We could not stay away.
Then he bled into me,
and I turned to purple.
He decided, purple wasn't for him.
Then he forgot me.

I
am
forgotten