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 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Khoisan
I know
I never have enough
still the little I have left
I give to you
so when I run on empty
you would've been
a few miles ahead of me.
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
apricot
In shadows where two hearts entwine,  
A dance begins with fate’s design.  
She loves him like the summer sun,  
Yet he’s entranced by another one.  

A glance exchanged beneath the trees,  
Whispers carried on a balmy breeze.  
Her laughter sparkles in his eyes,  
While dreams of her friend ignite the skies.  

Oh tangled web of tender woe,  
Where passion's fire and heartache grow.  
Two souls adrift in currents wild,  
Each lost within their fervent masked smile.  

He walks a line both thin and frail;  
Between fierce love and a bitter tale.    
One holds his heart in open hands —    
The other charms with distant lands.    

At dusk they meet under twilight's veil,    
Three silhouettes telling secrets pale;    
With unspoken words that cling to air—    
Their silent cries weigh heavy there.

Who will remain when dawn breaks clear?
And which sweet song will fade from ear?  
For love can bloom but also betray;      
As seasons shift and hearts decay.

Each moment etched in time's cruel flow—    
Twilight trembles as truth must show:      
Will triangles cease or deeper bind?        
In whispered dreams their fates aligned.

So here they stand at crossroads bend—      
Lovers caught where paths descend;        
An echo waits for softer sighs -            
Such is love—with its bittersweet ties.
Love triangle going on in my class, so I'm writing this poem...?
I don't know much,
Then l do know a lot,
I don't know what's true,
But I know what's not;

What I know true and full,
Binds me together firm,
A simple truth breathing,
Potent red, sinster green;

I've loved you completely,
Vivid rich and vast,
That I know with awe,
I miss your eyes;

My mind drowns in them,
Such grace and comfort,
You'll never leave my mind,
I love you, my moon baby.
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Liana
One of my friends asked me
"Do you think I'm a good person"
My first instinct was to tell her
"Yes, of course!"
But then I remembered
There's no such thing
I explained to her that I believed
In bad actions
Bad intentions
But not bad people
Because who knows who they would have been if raised even slightly differently
And if it's not because of that
And they're simply born that way
It isn't their fault they are like that
Just bad luck

I say that her intentions are usually good
And so because of that
She should feel that way too
And to my paragraphs she responded, "right..."
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Em MacKenzie
I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.
Starting to feel my age…
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Em MacKenzie
The Hallowe’en decor
has been put away for another year.
Christmas lights line each house and door,
illuminating every single tear.
The day of the dead has passed
but next holiday is one more for me,
since I’ve got the ghost of Christmas last
following me eternally.

Because you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep grief from seeping through the windows.
The cold is the coldest of enemies
and it freezes you each time the wind blows.

The wind’s slapping at my face
and there’s a chill biting at my bones,
and in every snowflake; a feeling laced
“in our own arms we die”; all alone.
My mother was the spring,
just like it; she couldn’t stay very long.
The breath of fresh air she would bring
until her own breath wasn’t very strong.

Because you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep grief from seeping through the windows.
The cold is the coldest of enemies
and it freezes you each time the wind blows.

No you can’t weather proof against memories,
and you can’t keep regret out of a locked door.
It has been that way for centuries
and it’ll be that way for centuries more.
Advent Calendar to Trauma
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Nobody
Wet on wet
 Nov 2024 Kayla S
Nobody
I never think of life
As a wet on dry watercolor painting
Because its more similar
To wet on wet
You put a dash of color
Joy
Emotion
And it spreads
Like a virus
But a good one
Life isnt realism.
Life is abstract.
So treat it like that.
Imperfect
But in the end?
Beautiful.
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