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Kimberly Nolasco Aug 2018
Today I touched a blade,
I rubbed against it and it all felt the same.
I couldn’t tell the difference between the purple and the red
From it drenched every drip against the metals melted way
I couldn’t tell the difference between the fire and the rain,
And every drink I sipped
It all tasted the same.
My hurt,  I thought was loving,
My loving only hurt.
My mind weighed out and my heart feather like,
Should I have never let it flown?
-kn
I haven’t been in a mood to write so muc, I get scared to touch my words, but I write when i fear less
Kimberly Nolasco Apr 2018
I thought under your arms
It was my security.
I thought against your chest
the beating that raised was nerves when you saw me.
But now
I know it was fear.
That last breathe after ever kiss.
Now I know it was a rush to air
after trying to escape from what could of been a nightmare.
It was my bitter skin
that raised goosebumps at the end of your spine.
I was a monster and you didn’t wanna love the beauty inside.
I was a monster and you feared me like no other kind.
Kimberly Nolasco Apr 2018
In the water
My Atlantis of perished dreams
Soak and sink.
Plunging heavyweight anchors as each memory hits waters grounding.
In the water
air pocket bubbles left afloat,
These are the bitting hopes I’ve left you to come and search.
These are the hopes I’ve saved within myth of my Atlantis.
Kimberly Nolasco Apr 2018
Dear Poetry,
I left you for a month.
I’ve ignored you so much
but I’m sorry.
I need you, you’ve help me when the going gets tough.
You’ve helped me when all the sentences and phrases I say don’t unseal or make any general sense,
You’ve helped me express myself
When I am just a speechless coward and
When I have no audacity to speak for my own conscience.
You give them a home,
All my mixed emotions and letters
You call them
poetry.
Sense full or senseless
Forgive me,
I need you, I need you more than before.
I’m gonna start writing again. I have too much sealed in me.
Kimberly Nolasco Mar 2018
__
These aren’t poems,
These are my thoughts
Kimberly Nolasco Jan 2018
I hate my weight
I hate these pounds
I count calories till I drop to the ground
Till ribs show and empty is normal sound
Till mind is distant from body, core
Till I anxiously weight myself
scales to be broke
Till want is more lost than a pound or so
Only wanting to disappear
I wish I’d float
away like ashes of dust,
weightless kites,
sails on a boat
Till all seems to match the void coiled inside
Till I’m lost in an obsessional trail of mind
till I feel to be fed, freely
my conscience is only full
Because I look in the mirror and ought
to believe in me not
a person I wish  really I was not
I never write poems like this, I’m sorry I did.
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