I try to contain the poison that leaks and streams
from my brokenness
...as tears streak my face
looking like streams in the desert
...but there is no refreshment in these bitter streams...
I heard that it was a choice to be broken
...but why would I choose to break myself? Maybe it was all of the curses that I've spoken-
against myself...
have I unwittingly foretold my own emotional death?
...and all of these years I flaunted it like it was emotional depth...
Whatever the case- it doesn't matter
Noone has hurt me more or been as unkind
As I search the corridors of my heart and my mind,
I find that
It is I
Replay after replay of some emotional torment, trying to find the fault with me...
That **** hurt- why can't I just leave it.  Right. There?
What they did hurt! And that **** ain't fair...
Why do I feel the need to make it about me?
It's this kind of behavior that keeps me from being free
I've become my own enemy
...so I lie here and I continue to bleed
And I try to contain the poison that streams
From my brokenness
...as tears streak my face
Looking like streams in the desert
But there is no refreshment...

I thought that he was THE one...
And he was.
He just wasn't THE one that I had dreamt of and prayed for...
He was my karma.

Someone once asked me, "How does it taste?"

I responded, "Perfumey." because I didn't think that they would understand, "Fragrant."

They still didn't get it.

So I tried to make them understand what was meant when things were called "fragrant"
...and then I tried to get them to identify with smelling a smell so strong that you can taste it- I gave up...
and answered,

"I'm just weird. The food is good."

You love my light, but can you embrace my darkness?
My madness, my neurosis, my insecurities?
You love my laugh, but can you love my tears and my scars and my pain as deeply as you love my joy?
You're willing to bask in my glistening iridescent infinite divine red aura splattered in gold tones...but will you be there when I'm unable to lift myself from the abyss of my ever churning, ever condemning, overthinking mind?
You want to celebrate my successes, but are you willing not to be overly critical of my failed attempts?
Are you willing to encourage me and believe in me when I can't do it for myself?
I'm simultaneously
happy and sad,
hot and cold,
unfettered and bound,
knowing and ignorant,
open and closed,
sure and unsure,
deep and shallow,
obsessed and unconcerned
...can you handle that?
Can you handle me?
Is it too dizzying of a realization that every part of me has a deep opposing counterpart?
Will you stay?
Will you leave? If so- I've just given you permission to do whatever you feel that you need...

You can't have my light without my darkness. You can't have my joy and discard my pain. You can't have my sanity without my insanity. You can't gather the things that you like and discard the ugly parts, further fragmenting my already fragmented soul...

Every part of me longs to feel the warmth of the sun
Every part of me longs to shown off like a most prized possession
Every part of me longs to be nurtured and cared for and protected and validated
Not by everyone- but by YOU
I don't need them. I just need you
Every part of me longs to be seen by you
felt by
loved by
You.

Every. Part.

See my heart, ******* thoughts, feel the colors of my memories

Into me see

Intimacy

~KiCo!

Oh, you don’t know who I am? Allow me to introduce myself-

I am a child of rage and bloodlust

Be careful, now, looking upon me in disgust

Wrinkled nose, lowered brow, narrowed eyes, a protruded tongue

I’ll bet you know my daddy-

His name is Tom

Trying to act all white bread and upper crust

Let’s see how distinguished you act when you feel my knife ******

I carry a straight razor riddled by very intentional rust

You’ll need stitches and a tetanus shot when I inject you with this  

Radioactive dust

While I am a child

the last thing that I am is meek and mild

Beneath this timid exterior

Lies something iniquitous, cruel, and superior

Deeply rooted and generational

Begetting, fructifying, spawning, and multiplying…..

This ain’t whatcha want baby,

And I ain’t lyin…




……He punishes the children for the sins of the parents to the third and fourth generation. ( Numbers 14:18)

Pain begats pain begats mo pain
series, succession. string, sequence
-a chain
I'd like to pretend that I was surprised
but I cannot feign
-ignorance
woven intricately into the fabric that is me
-it courses through my veins

I realize that it sounds inane
maybe even a little insane
but it is what it is
and what it is  
-is a stain

It's so hard to abstain
from feeling and inflicting this pain
this same pain that's been ingrained
from the generations before
-they opened that door and
lacked the knowledge or strength to obtain
the necessary tools to annihilate and decimate
the entrance into things
that would
devastate, level and obliterate
their children and their children and their children and
-my children

On my campaign to feel less pain
I entertain the demons
Mary Jane and *******
In my inebriated state, I was unable to ascertain
the damage that I'd added to my heart and brain

Nothing eased the pain or the shame
All that I had left was the pain
the pain
the pain

So, there I stood
beating my chest and screaming toward heaven
...praying for rain...