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K Sep 2017
It is 2:11 on a Saturday morning
And when you don’t reply to my texts
I know it is because he is kissing you right now
And your whole body feels like it is on fire

2:13
I am staring at the flowers you gave me
And you’re probably staring at his face over you right now
No.
Do not think that was special
Just a “friendly” gesture
As if friends show up at each other’s houses at 10 o’clock at night with bouquets of flowers
for no reason
As if friends hold hands laying in the back of your car listening to love songs on the radio
As if friends held each other like we did
No.
Do not think it was special

2:17
He is making you smile
Kissing your neck
Leaving more evidence of the presence of his lips on your body
I will see them tomorrow
And I will try not to notice
Try to pretend like it isn’t killing me

2:19
I wonder if he’ll tell you you’re beautiful
Because there’s not a minute that goes by
When that thought doesn’t cross my mind

2:21
You are in his bed right now

2:22
Your clothes are on the floor

2:23
I wonder if you ever wish it was me

2:24
I will ask you about your night in the morning
And I will smile through it
Act like the words don’t wound me like knives falling from your perfect lips

2:25
They are sleeping in the same bed
I remember what it was like to fall asleep next to you

2:26
I wonder if he appreciates it as much as I did

2:27
Your hands gently rubbed up and down my back
And I could have sworn you were shaking

2:28
Be comforted by the thought that maybe he makes her happy
Do not think of the flowers
DO NOT THINK OF THE FLOWERS
Think of ceilings or box fans
Anything that will get the jealousy off your tongue

2:29
Go to bed
Do not think this was special
K Sep 2017
Because you’ll never see the northern lights
because you’ll never travel the world
Because you’ll never get a tattoo
Because you’ll never buy a house
Because you’ll never see your brother get married
Because you’ll never hold a baby
Because you won’t be able to blow out the candle that’s still burning in your room
Because you’ve never had *** with someone who didn’t leave bruises
Because you’ve never touched anyone that you felt oceans for
Because you’ll never get closure
Because I’ll never tell you how I feel
Because you’ll never get over your stage fright
Because your friends care about you
Because maybe you like me too
Because weekends when you are home is all your mother looks forward to
Because your dogs won’t understand why you don’t come home anymore
Because your parents shouldn’t have to bury their daughter
Because your roommate will find you and never forget how you look heaped on the floor
Because you’ll never get ******* tab dividers to organize your ******* binder
Because you can do this
Because there’s a universe inside of you
Because you’ll never finish telling your story
You’re ripping pages out before you’ve read them
Doesn’t it scare you that you’ve only left 23
Because you deserve more
Because it will get better
Because I love you
K Sep 2017
Life is fleeting she told him
They climbed in-between branches of trees
We have but a moment before-
She, rustling through leaves, slipped away
Footprints where feet no longer fell
He buys flowers for the ground
Her words still echo at night
"Loneliness is a condition of living"
"Empty rooms often speak the loudest"
K Sep 2017
Almost
Definition: not quite, very nearly
I could fill an eternity with almosts
You remind me of someone I knew
I think it’s in the smile
A warm familiarity of what almost was
I wonder why it is frowned upon to stare at people
Because I want to study every detail of your face
Knowing every freckle
Mapping out how the corners of your mouth turn up when you smile
Wondering how a single being could posses so much beauty
You feel like summer
I can hear the birds
I close my eyes and imagine your hands on me like sunshine from my window
Your voice is like acoustic music
The first words that caught my attention
You said you were full of coffee and worms
Forgive me if I find it difficult to speak around you
Im just afraid of almost
Maybe one day you’ll tell me you could fill oceans with what you felt for me
And I’ll say I could fill galaxies
When writers fall in love it could either be beautiful
An eternity of together through flowing words and stanzas
Or too poetic
Where nothing just “is” anymore
Something always has to be something
But as for me. I hope it’s beautiful
Almost
Definition: not quite, very nearly, not enough time
You remind me of someone I knew
And the last thing I want is for you to become another almost
K Sep 2017
Twenty. Three. Hours.
Sardines sleeping on ***** floors
not caring about the shoe marks
avoiding the possibility of getting drooled on
We sang songs from rent between the seats
ANDY YOU GOONIE

Are we there yet?
I am the snack queen my children
Are we there yet?
it’s so much warmer than back home
ARE WE THERE YET?

I woke to see my first palm tree
palm trees are ******* weird

I was a princess
I let her curl my hair
I can’t feel my fingers
I understand why kids are always crying at Disney world
Its sensory overload

We lay on the beach
Our feet touch the ocean for the very first time
Her sunburn didn’t go away for weeks
we wanted to be jedis
Why was it “12 and under”
THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND

We sang songs from beauty and the beast
bonjour bonjour
Marie the baguettes hurry up
We got stuck on small world
We died on pirates of the Caribbean
You promised there wasn’t going to be a drop
I WAS NOT PREPARED

We watch the fireworks
And the neon lights
before being packed like sardines once again
Listening to her say ANDY YOU GOONIE
But that’s okay
Because I just love you guys.
K Sep 2017
We are always trying to get away
The Winter is dark, and cold, and im terrified
because I might get bad again
I would move far away
Somewhere warm

When we grow up,
We grow out of hometown angst
you made me find the beauty in Winter
The beauty in such a familiar place
Memory
Family
The places where we were happy
Why are we always trying to get away

You came back and you said
“I forget how much I miss this place”
“I forget how much I miss you”
You bought a my Chemical Romance album on vinyl
It’s comforting to know you still have as much angst as I do

We climb to the top of the parking garage the last time that year
Alice is gone
Off-white paint replaces her face
I still lock arms with you like I use to
It’s cold
But its beautiful
You hold my face in your hands
I look away to see our entire world encased in ice and orange lights
You sometimes feel like coming home
Like my hometown

It’s early
I saw the footprints in the snow and remember years ago
seeing footprints in the sand and realizing the people who left them had their own thoughts and feeling
The fresh snow glistens and I suddenly found beautiful
The wind took my breath away
Not figuratively
literally
I can’t breathe
Why don’t I have a ******* scarf

We have unfinished business
At 3:35 in the morning you texted me
“I guess we could kiss again”
You’re like my hometown
When I look at you
I see cold nights in your car
Hands somehow finding each other in the dark when we aren’t looking
The pier
Cutting my foot at the lake, you kept telling me DON’T LOOK DOWN IT’S NOT BLEEDING THAT BAD
it was.
you bought me ice cream after

You’re like my hometown
you’re memory
Family
The one that made me happy
Why are we always trying to leave

You bought another My Chemical Romance album on vinyl
And you wrote a song about a girl with pink hair
and someone you called a “rambunctious ****”
You have so much angst
but so do i
I miss you.
K Sep 2017
I'm convinced that having anxiety gives you radar
You can spot people with anxiety from a mile away
And when you see them
You just want to hug them
And tell them it'll be okay
and you wish someone would do that to you
but that takes a lot of energy and fighting with yourself and we're all terrified of rejection and vulnerability and ******* talking to people
The tell-tale signs become more obvious
The little ticks
Shaking legs
Tapping fingers
Grinding teeth
Rubbing hands together
Pulling at clothes
You know because you catch yourself doing them all the time
You'll know its a bad day when you can see the red mark over the scar tissue on my bottom lip
You can measure by how my nails look
Or how filled in my eyebrows are
because my fingers decide to declare war there when I'm not paying attention
I swear, when I'm stressed, I can never get the taste of blood off of my tongue
Like an iron key in my mouth
The entropy in my head is enough to drive a physicist mad
Panic attacks aren't always apparent
Sometimes it's just being overly quiet
And your lungs forget how to be lungs
and you just remember the lights
or the floor
or how everything blurs at the edges
Breathe.
I see shopping carts, soap dispensers, street lights, desks, your car window
I can touch the water, her hands, the table, the doorknob
I hear cars passing, people talking, the song you would sing to me
I smell oil and tires
I taste blood.
K Jan 2018
Darling,

Aphrodite may be beautiful

But she still started a war.
K Jul 2018
They usually come at night
When fighting the battle of sleep
I recall the window, green and purple blankets and sheets
I am a walking video tape
Broken VCR rewinds
Without being touched, my brain is the television on which it repeats

Classroom desk, The Color Purple, Letter one; repeat
2:00, surprised, they usually come nighttime
Video cassette jostled in its compartment, forcibly rewinding
No, please let me go to sleep
The thoughts take my limbs and bind
them to my sides, wishing for the refuge of sheets

How I want to burn those sheets
Maybe the tape would no longer repeat
Take the memories and unfasten
them from my mind. It was never at night
No sneaking into bedrooms, sleep
wasn’t any harder than usual, only rewinding
When we were home alone, rewinding
Inside those sheets
I wonder if he could still sleep
Does the repetition
Haunt him at night?
These memories belong in boxes sealed
in ***** basements like ****** up Christmas presents not meant to be opened, tightly wrapped
Red ribbon on the spool, rewound
like the film tucked away in a cellar without lights, dark as midnight
Upstairs, I am safe, a breeze from the open window blows sheets
of watercolor paper sprawled on the table with repeating
brush strokes. The chair next to the window is a fine place to take a nap.
Here, ill recordings do not interrupt my slumber
Bandage
I’ve read that victims will often put themselves in situations that repeat
the traumatic event. Time is the one thing I cannot rewind.
I sit in a room of strangers filling out sheets
about healthy coping mechanisms. I think of my hard-bedded room; on the wall there is a nightlight

But still. Some nights, it’s on repeat. The boxes open while I sleep.
Some nights my head is still a video tape
They creep up the stairs and into my sheets when I’m not looking. Like tiny spiders that know how to push the << button.
A sestina is a form of poetry that uses the same six end words (words at the end of the line) in different order throughout the poem.
Heres the pattern:
Stanza 1: 123456
Stanza 2: 615243
Stanza 3: 364125
Stanza 4: 532614
Stanza 5: 451362
Stanza 6: 246531
Stanza 7 (the envoi): contains all six words.

My words:
1- Night
2- sleep
3- sheets
4- tape
5- rewind
6- repeat
K Sep 2017
You were my favorite
emphasis on the word “were”
meaning no longer
Almost
Another almost
in the place where you should be
You are still my favorite

2. Past tense words are so sad
Had
Loved
The moment when is turns to was
I was loved
I am sad

3. Almost
You can never turn an almost into certainty
when you stopped kissing me in even numbers
When 30 minute goodbyes turned into 3 minutes
Please just touch me one last time

4. There were only a few things in this life I knew for sure
I am terrible at speeches
We were dying
There are no decisions I completely made up my mind about
except you

5. Don’t go
Look at me
I’m opening the door
say something
goodbye

6. When will you be finished ******* her
Because I miss your ceiling
and touching you and the way you looked next to me in bed
I will use her face to replace yours

7. You didn’t leave bruises in bed
but it did not stop you from hurting me
You broke me inside
Compartmentalize the underlined
You hit me in the car one day when I called myself ugly
Our friend was in the back seat
She didn’t say anything
You said sorry and that you loved me
You were just frustrated
Its okay
No. its not.
I promise it was nothing
Yes it was something
It wasn’t even that bad. It only happened once
It doesn’t matter

8. I hate that I still love you
you left boxes behind when you moved out
I will hide them in the closet
neatly packed away
to forget until another day
K Sep 2017
Alarm
Click
Alarm
Click
Alarm
Click
White ceiling
Toes thighs chest eyelids
Swing legs over bed
Stand up
Feel emptiness in your gut
Revel in how lovely it feels for the moment
Black letters greet you
Don’t forget..Take your meds! Smiley face
Orange bottle
Little custard colored pills

swallow down
swallow down
swallow down

Yes! Go to class! Pay attention! This is interesting! Wow! There’s a dog! Hello friends! Yes I can help you with that! Yes I want to hang out tonight! But homework first! And I must do my laundry! Productivity is great! I love you sweetheart, lets skype tonight! But after I do social things! It was nice talking to you!

Yes lets still hang out tonight
Yes lets still skype tonight
Unlock the door
walk in
close the door
sit down

look out the window
look out the window
look out the window

I’m sorry I’ll have to cancel. Something came up. Yes I’m fine. Yes we’ll reschedule.
Lighter
Inhale
Exhale
Short productivity burst

look out the window
look out the window
look out the window

Yes baby I’m fine. Uh huh…uh huh…uh huh….Yes I’m listening yes I still love you no im sorry im a little off tonight

look out the window
look out the window
lookout the window

Shower
Brush teeth
Comb hair
Crawl into bed

stare at the ceiling
stare at the ceiling
stare at the ceiling

Custard colored dreams
Are harder to swallow down
swallow down
swallow down
K Sep 2017
I.
Wild and lonely skies
Reds and yellows painted on clouds
Roses on the side of our brick house
A dream that's slipped away
News of a day I'd forgotten
Still I live on for one song more
They haven't paid the rent
There is no heat
I can't afford to turn it back on
The floors are stained
The beds unmade
No matter how much I scrub
It never gets clean
They bring men home that break vases and leave hand prints on the windows
But I still lift the covers
Let them crawl into bed with me like the dishes were clean, like there wasn't broken glass on the floor
I wish this was a one night stand
I could sneak out
shoes in hand
Tiptoeing around the books on the floor
But I still live for one song more
And I slip back into him as if I'd never slipped away

II.
Wild and lonely skies
An endless loop of coffee shops and classical music and falling in love with strangers
Strange perfections and sweet echoes drip from rose petal lips
Like a dream lonely voices wake to remember
This was a prompt in which I had to borrow lines from other famous poetry and weave my own ideas into them, so if any of these sounds familiar, that's why :P
K Jan 2018
I cannot hide the way I feel
When you're standing right there next to me
And I cannot lie that when you speak
My heart forgets to time its beats
And I know it's wrong but I can't help
This feeling that you give to me

Oh what a mess we've made
What a hole that we've dug
You're trying to pull me away
But I would rather be stuck with you

And we, we could run away, my love
Away from the Universe
Time, make it stop so I can breathe
The morning's nearly here again
And I don't know much
But this could be
Where my soul is pulling me

Oh what a mess we've made
What a hole that we've dug
You're trying to pull me away
But I would rather be stuck with you

Then you take my hand
And you whisper to me
Darling when I'm with you, you are all that I see
Oh what a pickle we're in
But you make me happy
My heart is stuck with you
And yours is stuck with me

Please wont you hold me
Please wont you kiss me

Oh what a pickle we're in
Oh what a pickle we're in my love
Read it. Remember it. Read it again.
K Sep 2017
There are only a few things in this life I know for sure
Number 1
I am terrible at speeches
Theres a chorus in my head of ways I could twist letters to italize words in your ears
But when I’m looking at you
I go blank

Number 2
We are all dying
I could die tomorrow
And stare death in the face
He hears last wishes and thoughts all the time
Most consisting of
Should have, could have, but did not
And he just chuckles and asks
Well why not
I could die tomorrow
I don’t want my last thought to be
Why didn’t I tell you?
I wish I told you
And I know you know that we both know it
But there’s a beauty in stating the obvious

Number 3
There are no decisions I completely made up my mind about
Time is only ever ticking away and when time runs out
I’ll regret it
I’m not one for regretting
I don’t want it to become a habit
But I want you to hear it
And maybe I want to hear it
Because we might die tomorrow
There are only a few things in this life that I know for sure

Number 1
I am terrible at speeches
Which is why I wrote this down in the ten minutes before you got here
Because words were buzzing in my skull making honey in the creases of my brain to drip out of my lips and onto yours

Number 4
I live in the moment
Because the future is never promised
And in this moment I love you
K Sep 2017
A boy has never given me their sweat shirt before
                     I feel 15 again
                               Like you just got your license
                                              Like my father doesn’t know about us
And it smells like you and cigarettes
                                           I don’t know why it feels so nostalgic
                       You use to put out cigarettes on a bible in your attic
I remember sitting there with you, only wanting to be closer
That’s when you were Skye and I had stars in my eyes
                         We became an almost
                                         We became strangers
But now
                 I’m lying on my bed
                              Wearing your sweater             thinking
If I were to ever have a boyfriend,
                                                                 It would be you.
K Sep 2017
She is waiting for me
Leaned up against the bricks by my door
Mysterious
New
She is smoking a cigarette
A habit that I despise can become so nostalgic and alluring
It’s exciting

The grasp of her foreign hands lead me to the elevator
She presses the Close Door button three times
Her lips find their way to my mouth
Biting my lip
She pushes me against the cold wall hard
And teases me with a hand sliding up my skirt
We stumble onto my floor
I fumble with keys as she kisses my neck and shoulders

I am playing with the button of her jeans
I undress for her like a good girl
I want to touch her so badly
But I am pinned down to red sheets
Please
Every breath sets my lungs on fire
Barely able to make a sound
Please

She leans out of my bedroom window
Another cigarette lit hanging from her fingertips
It’s cold but she doesn’t cover up
I can see the goose bumps on her skin
It is odd that she is familiar

I did not anticipate this
But her in this light, in this way
Far too beautiful for a moment so fleeting
Artists’ lovers are never mortal
They are captured forever in ink and paint
You need not worry my dear
Your beauty will always last
For you will never expire
K Nov 2017
You were solid ground I could stand on
In this melancholy sea of uncertainty
I had always been drawn to the unpredictable
but you were a home I could grow up in
I built a future I could hold in my palms on your foundations

The ground starts to shake
As you pull yourself from under me
The risk of drowning becomes more likely as the hours pass
I fear that if you are gone,
My future will follow

I believe in soulmates
You and I are complimentary figures
But perhaps I am not good enough for forever
K Sep 2017
There is a large metal box in the corner of her office
With thick steel chains
And a padlock on the latch
I was here
In the middle of a black leather couch
When she first tore the tape off
Of a wet cardboard box, falling apart at the folds
Contents spilling out
Leaving stains across the gray carpet
Couch
Bedroom
Purple and green comforter
No
Go away
Not here
Not today
This wasn’t okay
These are things that are not supposed to happen to little girls
I remember
I don’t want to remember
Get out get out get out
I’ll take this to my grave
Everything would change
No
He said “Don’t tell”
It’s ****** up that I still won’t
Only she knows
Only he knew
You never understood but I never held it against you
I did not want to tell you
But when pleasure became please don’t touch me
you needed to know why
Ashamed
Embarrassed
Not right not right not right
I do not want to open that box
No not tonight
K Sep 2017
He is standing in front of the bathroom mirror
Counting hairs on his chin
Two more than yesterday morning! He says giddy with excitement
That’s great dear.
I wrap my arms around his waist
Boxer briefs
And a bound chest

I remember the pretty blue dress
How I wanted to unzip it
Slide it off
And watch it hit the floor
It would have been so easy to touch him
Am I a bad person if I say I miss it?

New jaw line
New voice
New body
Can I still see you the same if you look like a stranger
I’m terrified
Terrified of waking up and not feeling the same I did yesterday

He never lets me see him naked
Without his armor
Ace bandages
Black boxers holding silicone between his legs
That isn’t quite the right color

There is no life there
No blood
No warmth
I like his face over me
Clawing at his back
I can look into his eyes
But I know he can’t feel anything
He won’t let me
He leaves his shirt on

We play this game of touch-me-not
He always wins  
Once a month
3 to 7 days
He calls himself an abomination
Not quite man not quite woman

He says we don’t fit together
Because I am an outlet but he is not a plug
He says we do not match up except we do to me
We match up in the way you smile when you catch me looking at you
We match up in the way you make me laugh
We match up in the way you linger even after you have left

This. Is. Hard.
I may not bind my chest
Or wear boxers
Or jab myself with needles every morning
But I am a girlfriend in transition too.
K Sep 2017
We are listening to poetry
And I am admiring your silhouette
I suddenly notice the delicate strength of your hands
And the intricate lines of your palm
I want to study each of them
Run my fingers over them

You bite your nails
and your other hand faces upward
I should take your hand
I want to
Put my hand in yours
Run my thumb across skin
I want to
But I know
I shouldn’t
You hand is being held by someone else
But oh, how I wish to take that hand
Press skin against skin
Swing arms playfully in the chill of the night
Oh, how I wish to take that hand
To dance under the moonlight
I will twirl you around and you will laugh
And that will be the music we sway to

I am admiring your silhouette
I should kiss you
Break the silence that begs to be broken
Oh, how I wish to kiss those lips
Press skin against skin
Leaving cherry red stains behind

My mind is somewhere else
My mind is with you
Oh, how I wish to tell you about the dangerous increase of you in my thoughts
Dare I?
Dare I say how much I enjoy your presence?
Dare I say how I admire your silhouette or your hands?
Dare I say how I wish to hold that hand, press skin against skin?
No, I do not dare
For he is holding you now
But still, I call you darling
Still I comment on your breathtaking loveliness
Oh, how I wish to take that hand!

You look most beautiful when you are going on about him
But my dear, you would still look beautiful even with your hands around my throat
K Sep 2017
A dream wraps me in its strange comfort
Your hands unravel me like a woolen scarf
We hear wind chimes but see no houses
The sunlight takes us
There are colors only we can see
The world through rose colored glasses
The breeze catches your parka
You are a sail boat
Going up to the watery sky
You keep me afloat and a shape catches my eye
Nothing can stop me from diving in
And I see her
Beautiful and ethereal
Shining like a gemstone
Golden bubbles of air rise to the surface
Silken plants twist around my ankles
I cannot touch her
She’s too far and I can’t move
The water is not suffocating
But I float
There are diamonds in my eyes
And I float
K Sep 2017
You’re like Shia Lebeouf
you make my dreams come true
I could buy the whole world if I had a small loan of a million dollars
every time I thought about you

Heart eyes *******
Who is she?
You’re all of my business
So what to do with all this tea?

Such romance much feels
You stole my heart when I put it up for grabs
wow
You make my head spin like Mr. Krabs

4/20 blaze it
It’s Easter you praise it
Cows they graze it
The world, you never cease to amaze it

You make me happier than women eating salads in stock photos
Like birdie sanders you make my heart feel the bern
The bread sticks will stay on the table
I don’t want to leave immediately with the way you make my heart yearn

you’re always   on my team, WHAT TEAM? WILDCATS!
Together we’re pretty lit
You say “I can fix that”
So please. Just do it.
K Sep 2017
Loneliness is expensive
Maybe if I get this, I’ll be better
No, let me buy dinner
Here take my eyes, my smile, my dignity I don’t need it

Nights are the worst
Regrettably, I am still getting used this
The exquisite warmth replaced by a cold wall at my side

I feel like I am jumping from freight cars
Traveling to I don’t know where
But I tell myself
Wherever will be better
Convincing.

You were beautiful
I sat in your sky and polished your glisten and shine
I became addicted to your sweetness
But snakes do not give honey

I am just a bruise now
Wake up
Ow that hurts
Climb out of bed
**** that hurts
Walk out of the door
**** it hurts

There is a moth outside of my window
He flutters on the glass
Drawn to the soft light through a lampshade
He doesn’t know
The light is beautiful
But the heat of the bulb will hurt him if he gets close enough to touch it
Its okay
I am like you too
K Sep 2017
I'm suddenly very aware of my legs
This is real
Do I want it to be real?
Our shadows play tricks on us behind our backs
and tangle together when we aren't looking
Maybe we're the shadows to them

You are like porcelain
Painted red and blue
I can see brush strokes in the flowers
I feel like I am just bronze compared to her

WHY IS THIS SO HARD
I don't even know your favorite color
Or if you like tea
My hands will smell like lavender and cloves
And I'll make you tea
because I love making tea
I just hate drinking it

I'm suddenly very aware of my lips and tongue moving as I read
I've been reading for 10 minutes but I haven't heard a word
because I'm too busy
Thinking about the way she reads
and her lips moving with the words
and the words on my lips
and her lips moving with mine
and suddenly I am very aware that I am in philosophy
and I have no ******* idea what's going on
K Mar 2018
My therapist calls you a mind-******
You know how to get under my skin
Into my brain
And scramble neurons

These months are the hardest
The detox
When every cell inside of me is craving you
Your name appears once more

Finish me off next time, would you?
K Jan 2018
Sitting
   In the dark
Hands move
   Stomach flips
Tingles from my toes
   To my stomach
   To my
Fingertips and lips
   Longing
Wondering
    If we are sharing the same thoughts
Perhaps
   The Universe gave us to each other
Perhaps
   The Universe does not exist
Perhaps
   It is all coincidence
But Darling, life is too short
    To focus on perhaps
My apologies
     If I stare too long
I underestimated
    How easy it would be to get
Caught and lost
    In your galaxies
K Sep 2017
The existence of us lied purely on conditional probability
The probability that event A will happen with the knowledge that event B has already happened
And if you asked me why I kissed you
I would tell you I liked when our probability was me over you
With your hands laying tangent to my curves

I kissed you as much as I wanted and as much as I could
If you asked me why I kissed you goodbye
Even though you were not mine
It was because time is only ever ticking away
And if I run out of time
I can’t kiss you

The probability of you calling me beautiful was a 0.25 on the qualitative spectrum
Unlikely.
But you did and your voice sounded like honey
sticking to the heartstrings in my chest,
filling in the cracks,
it was sweet

Our probability quickly shifted from me over you to 1 over 6
very likely to unlikely
and the conditional probability of you leaving seemed to take over any set equation

I saw the curve in your lips decay faster day by day
The eyes that I tried so hard to catch mine
Don’t even make the effort to look in my direction
And the honey you left in my chest turned sickly
And it’s been there so long I think I’m attracting bees

I lay my hands flat on your chest
and I am touching you because I can’t help it
because time is only ever ticking away
And I’m crying
Why am I crying?

The memories are rushing back
Your hand on my thigh in that blue dress
Your arm around me in the parking lot
I remember it was warm and you were talking to my mother

You always had the charm to make me dance
and that night I felt you in my bones

50/50 I thought we were 50/50

Now I’ve always preferred chemistry
And we felt like a combustion formula
But we were just probability and statistics
And I’ve always hated math
K Sep 2017
I became aware of **** culture when I was in eighth grade
I heard it every day
As if **** was a word to describe attraction to someone
It became a joke as it fell from the lips of 13 year old girls
Like undigested food and lip gloss
They became accustomed to the saying
“It’s not **** if you yell surprise”

I was a freshman in high school
When a boy sent my friend a text message that read
“you’re so cute, I wanna **** you”
And she took it as a compliment
I was a sophomore when my health teacher said if you are ever about to be ***** yell fire
As if **** isn’t serious enough for people to care

We live in a world that punishes women before rapists
Because the first thing the police will ask is what you were wearing
Girls are taught to cover up every inch of flesh
To shame their bodies
Because showing too much skin could provoke someone to **** them
As if it is their fault For someone else’s lack of control

Because we teach girls how not to get *****
Instead of teaching boys not to ****
I’m afraid to even walk to my car alone
And I hear that word fall from the mouths of middle schoolers like a joke they’ve just heard
I cringe and look away
Because we aren’t laughing.
K Jun 2018
I can't stop thinking of it
How the razor feels so cool in my hands
Fitting so perfectly between the grip of finger and thumb
How it appears from nothing
Pink
to
Bright red
Beads of blood pooling along the fine line of open flesh
The cold burn of alcohol
The soreness and sting with every step

I can't stop thinking of his blood
What if mine looked like that one day
How strangely romantic it would be
to bleed out the hurt together

I woke up craving it
He kisses me hard before I leave him behind in my dreams
It does not hurt during
Only after
perhaps these dreams are much like razors

I woke up craving to open myself up
clavicle to stomach
pour myself out over white sheets
the stains wont come out
My mom would throw them away

The place where i once felt safe
has grown teeth and a devious grin
come in my friend, while I chew you like gum
and spit you out when the sweetness has subsided
K Sep 2017
Summer

The sun glistened off beads of sweat gathering on her neck
Breeze through dark curls
Laughing
They lay on a checkered blanket sprawled on the grass
She points at the clouds
Shapes only she could see

Winter

Warm sweaters
Cuddling under blankets
Hot chocolate
Movies and popcorn you buy in a tin
She always found her socks in the strangest places in the apartment
Spring
The clouds looked too gray
And the hot chocolate just tasted like hot water

Summer

The air conditioning was broken
Humidity made all of the cardboard boxes damp
The apartment was emptier than it’d been in a while
She found a sock under her bed while she was trying to clean her smell out of the bed room
There was a dark hair still on her pillow
She stripped the sheets and threw them in a basket

Fall

It’s raining all the time
The city is noisy
And headlights keeping shining through the windows
The sheets are still in a basket
The sock is still under her bed
Winter
She is always in bed
Three days call ins
On the fourth day she took a shower
Put on a suit jacket
And stepped out in the cold
She forgot it snowed
She forgot boots

Spring

She sat on the floor
The apartment was still empty
She stared at the basket
And an empty popcorn tin in her closet
She got up
Lifted the basket
Washed the sheets

Summer

She sits on a train
Her hair is in a bun
She is wearing a sweater
The city was too much now
It’s okay
She drinks hot chocolate
It’s okay
K Sep 2017
She touches my skin
With shaking hands and cold fingers
Her eyes gleam deviously
I know she’ll leave in the morning
She leads me sweetly to the stuffy off-white unfamiliar room at the end of the hall
Her breath tastes of smoke and cheap brandy
And her lips caress my body as we slide between the deep red sheets
Of a stranger’s bed
Her fingers tangle themselves in my hair
A smile spreads across her face
And moans escape from in-between her intoxicated lips
I was so sure she loved me again
So sure she was mine again
So sure this is how life would be now
Until we’re lying in that stranger’s bed
Only covered by that same red sheet
She is facing the wall
And it is silent
The empty space between us became unsettling
As the feeling still lingered in the air
I crawled closer
Crossing into the forbidden space
And rested my palm gently on her arm as she shrugged me off and sat up
Her legs dangled over the side of the bed
Her bare back arches
I can count out her ribs and every notch in her spine
Her dark hair drapes over her delicate face and shoulders
God, I loved her so
From every color in her eyes to every scar on her legs
I followed suit
Let the blood red sheets fall around me
As I crept up behind her and wrapped my arms around her petite torso
I rested my lips on her shoulder
But then, ever so softly, my love whispered
“Just friends, Okay?”
In that single moment, my heart shattered on the floor her feet rested upon
And no one was there to tell me,
This was gonna hurt.
And it did and it does
Days turned into weeks as she played her wretched game of “Loves me-Loves me not”
Like school children on red paint chipped swings
Back and forth
Back and forth
Like a metronome counting out its steady beat
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
K Mar 2018
I can't stop thinking of your arms
How they wrapped around me that night
Braille of a story spelled out across them
I run my fingers across the raised surface of scarred skin
There's so many
It's nostalgic
I felt your breathing deepen

Sleep
This world has been cruel to you
Sleep
With arms safe in my palms

It's sort of tragically beautiful
Two souls threatening to break at any moment
Lean on one another
We know what it's like to be broken

Sleep
I'll be your pillow
Sleep
I'll be your razor

Cut into me
And take what you need
K Sep 2017
5am is for sleepless lovers
Stars beginning to fade to a purple sky
Birds awakening with song outside open windows
Wishing your body was pressed against mine
We tread on forbidden ground
The space in between our lips begging to be broken
As my hands underline the important parts of you
Hip bones
Belly button
Fingertips
You tell me “you’re so soft”
Words I’ve heard fall from the mouths of many a lover
But never has it sounded so sweet dripping from yours
5 am is for sleepless lovers
Watching eyes flutter in and out of sleep
Listening to heartbeats slow and race with every touch
Whispering truths and dreams and pretty lies
My, what a mess we’ve made
How I wish to hide in 5am with you
Away from the universe
Where sleepless lovers lie
K Sep 2017
Dim light or day light
Maybe it was both at the same time
You always held soft light
Made the harshest room warm and colored
You sat
Holding the sides of my thighs
I stood
Resting hands on your shoulders
Sweatshirt and hat you stole from my drawer
I looked down into eyes that matched mine
That one moment
Was the first
Like red flowers taking seed and blooming in my stomach
Growing into my throat
Threatening to show between my teeth
That one moment
I knew I loved you

Day light or dim light
It was both at the same time
You made me hold a soft light that day
The room was so soft
The kitchen so colored
You stood
Stirring sausage gravy
Adding more pepper
You remembered how I’d cover my eggs with it when we’d go out to breakfast
Warm biscuits and Nora Jones  
Wrapping my arms around your waist
That one moment
Was the second
Flowers blooming again
How perfect it would be if…
How perfect it would be…
How perfect it would…
How perfect it…
How perfect…
That one moment
I swallowed.
K Jul 2018
Ⅰ.
Her paintings often worried people
outstretched hands and cooing voice
“Are you alright?”
“It comes and goes in waves”
You see, that was her specialty
Composing masterpieces out of emotional turmoil

Ⅱ.
The Artist found her new muse within the heart of a Bibliophile
Stacks of books bowing the wood on a stained white bookshelf
Her favorite; a black bound Salvador Dali collective
Ribbon bookmark frayed by the teeth of an orange kitten
The bibliophile’s face filled the Artist’s sketchbook pages
The finest work of art in her mind’s eye

Ⅲ.
She fills the bad nights with smoking good **** and drinking cheap liquor
Her feet touch the floor for the first time in 3 days
Hair knotted and joints crackling
Empty pizza boxes litter the floor of her studio
Blank canvas next to dried paint
“****** up attracts ****** up” she said, paint scraper in hand,
How ironic the Artist cuts herself with her tools

Ⅵ.
She remembers how they made love on a mattress without a frame
Fingers brush across bodies leaving behind colors of flushed skin
Like an anatomical paint-by-number
They breathe smoke into each other’s lungs
The Bibliophile said “You are my favorite drug.”
A deadly mix of *******, *****, and marijuana
“You keep me on my toes and put me on my *** all at the same time.”

Ⅴ.
She squeezes her thighs into stretch denim
Attempting an imitation of normal
The Artist stares distantly at the blinding white of blank pages
The thoughts of the Bibliophile tickle her amygdala
Begging to run rampant across canvas
Time heals all wounds
She calls bull-****.
#ex #breakup #depression #artist #bibliophile #art #books
K Sep 2017
Little girl and red shoes
tiny feet tapped up my spirals of stairs
She twirled through my watch room
I was happy
She visited everyday to have tea with me
To her, I was a castle, a classroom, a secret hideaway
She pressed her body, open armed, into my stone
I wish I had the arms to hug her back

I saw her grow
She’d visit me less
But still came to talk to me
I was happy
I saw first kisses
I saw heartbreak
I saw her grow up

I saw her get married
That night, they danced through my tower
I embraced them in warm light
I wish I had the voice to sing them music to sway to

I saw her grow old
She still came to change my light
Even though the ships never visited the shore anymore
I was happy

She was always in my tower now
Folding paper
more and more
Piling up at the corners of my room
He had to make her leave and go to sleep at night
thousands thousands thousands of gifts from her
I was happy

Feet tap up my spirals of stairs
It’s been so long
My light is dimming and it needs to be changed
Don’t go just yet
Stay a while
Dance and twirl through my tower once more
Let me embrace you in the soft light
The moon looks beautiful
Where are you going?

Please remember me
Why don’t you remember me?
No one will change my light
And you’ll just feed trees that will be used to make paper which will be returned to the paper you left on my stairwell

She visited with him
I wish I had the mouth to smile at her
He helped her change my light
And I was happy
It was the last time I felt her feet on my stairs
But I was happy
I was totally inspired by the video game "To the Moon" when I wrote this
K Sep 2017
He may be able to write you novels,
Beautiful symphonies of the way his heart sings for you
Putting your name on a pedestal
Covering you in tiny paper hearts
But you are no ethereal, perfect being
I am not too blind to see, we are fallible and flawed
It's not about never seeing flaws
It's about loving them anyway
You are just a person
You are not greater, or higher, than I
We coexist on the same plane
He can write you novels
But I can design perfectly put together sentences for only your eyes
Sometimes the least amount of words have the most meaning
K Sep 2017
Whenever we were cold,
You’d rest your legs on mine
And smile at me
You did this so much,
It was as if you claimed a permanent spot on my thighs
And when I relive that night under your strong frame,
The thought of your lips still make me shiver
And the vibrations make the cells underneath my skin shift like Tectonic plates
Causing an earthquake across my body

And now all I can think about is you leaving,
And how your arms are wrapping around her and not me,
That it is her lips you’d rather be kissing
And do you realize?
Do you understand?
You were the first man I ever let see my stomach
You picked me up like a broken record on the side of the road,
Taped me back together,
But threw me out again because I sk-sk-sk-skipped

I let you unwrap me like a present
You saw the weakest parts of me
Underneath the bruises and scars
You turned me into nothing more than a ***** secret,
A story you never told
I look into the mirror and all I can see is your hands caressing my naked body
You make me wanna smash my head through the glass
Make me wanna carve your lies into my legs
I wanna cut my lips open
Just so you can see the pain you caused me on my skin
You did her the favor of not leaving any evidence on my body that you were ever there
Just your fingerprints that only I could see

I feel like I am nothing,
A cheap **** that believed every word
“You’re my first choice. I do not want her.”
How could she love him after what he did?
We broke like a divorce,
Where our friends were like our children,
Split up from the silent custody battles
I only have weekends.
How am I suppose to forget when all I can see is her where I use to be

But yes, I do hope you are happy
I hope she will be faithful
I hope she will laugh at the weird noises you make when you drive
I hope she will not get mad at you for talking during a movie
I hope you will find what you’re looking for,
Even if it is not with me.
But I know where you’ve been,
Does she?
K Sep 2017
We spoke of pretty places we'd someday go
Her eyes shine like stars do
And beautiful things are lost in the search for quantity
Like friends, lovers, and words on pages
K Sep 2017
Maybe we met in a past life
Cherry stained lips and Aventurine eyes
So familiar and comfortable
Maybe some other where, some other when
You held my hand
and I embraced you between white hotel sheets
K Jul 2018
I.

He has a habit of picking flowers
and putting them in waterless vases

He plants poppies and marigolds on his bedroom floor
Nettles grow where his feet fall

He becomes another bloom
Without sun nor rain

He lies down in the green
Withering

II.

When he is happy
It feels like I'm putting my tongue to a 9 volt battery
He rushes through my veins
Shocking my system
Sparking me up like a cigarette
Giving me energy I've never known

When he is depressed
It's like drinking battery acid
His kisses spill darkness into me
My body attempts to filter the black tar
Leaking from his lips
There's a heaviness that doesn't go away

It lingers in my chest as he does when he's happy
Tiny flower buds atop
Little floating feathers
Growing
Tickling
Filling me up

When he is sad
They do not float
6 tons of flowers and feathers still weigh the same as 6 tons of steel
Crushing
Crushing
Withering

III.

My love lies bleeding
Among the green sprouting around him

You cannot purge darkness
Into porcelain with fingers down your throat

How am I to pull these weeds
Fighting the vines twisting inside me, whispering

"Lie down beside him
And wither too"
K Oct 2017
You are art
Brush strokes could not define the softness of your smile
Pastels could not express the brightness of your eyes
unbuttoned
Undone
Blues and reds swirling and mixing like watercolors in my stomach

You are art
Picturesque
Intense
Overwhelmingly lovely
Interpretations change but beauty remains
Ink peeks out from your waistband
Drawing me blueprints for where to lay my kisses

You are art
The finest rouge acrylics could not match the delicate pink of your lips
You bite them as my hands color across your body
like an anatomical paint by number

You are art
and I am breathless with admiration
Appreciation
and pure adoration

— The End —