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Mel Kay Apr 2018
Perhaps you and I are an eclipse
and our life spans are the time before and after it. As to make sure it only happens once.

And we will glance at one another for a long moment before our fingertips slip through the space between our hands like desert sand.

One last time I will tell you how the stars were always just the light in your eyes, shining through the cracks in my bedroom ceiling and I was merely the darkness inside the room.

If I could stand on my tippy-toes, the way you like it, I would lasso planet HAT-P-7bĀ and place it in your chest between those stars that made you.

But you will vanish from my sight and take my universe with you. And I, spacebound, will travel another 7 years into the next lifetime to find your arms around me in the morning.

Even if our next eclipse lasts only 7 minutes and 31 seconds.
if you like astronomy you will know why that planet is so special. ***
Mel Kay Oct 2017
I love the way you are... so confidently you.

The way you know my deep blue soul and pretend I don't know you at all.

The way you refuse to see me and yet, time and time again, open the door.

It's the way you light my cigarettes that I adore.

The way you admit I am completely out of my mind and hold me sweetly as if to say you accept it unconditionally.

The way you love sad songs and share them with me.

The way you playfully point your guns at me when I spit fire.

It's the way you sing proudly out of tune that I admire.

The way you make Dad-jokes and chuckle at mine too.

I love the way you are...so confidently you.
A light hearted piece of love for you out there. Nothing special.
Mel Kay Oct 2017
Dear Daddy

You put your hand on my leg in the movies.

I wanted you to stop.

You hugged me.

I wanted you to stop.

You smiled at me.

I wanted you to stop.

Imagine being afraid of a stranger,

Imagine that stranger was your father.

Signed your 8 year old daughter.
I'm sorry about this one.
Mel Kay Mar 28
And I think there are just too many things that break my heart, I fight too hard to stop from falling into pieces that I can't be spoken to, not even quietly.

There are too many people I've seen thoroughly, I can't separate myself from anything and I can't be looked at, not even briefly.

There are too many oceans, too deep to venture, no explorer will have courage enough to dip their toes in this water, and no one can touch me, not even kindly.

There are too many things that scare me now. I never leave from the bed I lay in and I can't be danced with, not even calmly.

There are too many ways to break my heart these days that I can't be moved, not even gently,

Not even at all.
It's not good but it's a poem.
Mel Kay May 2023
There's an oasis in my desert.

Palm trees and koi live here where sands are soil and winds are thick and wet. Cloths that fall from sky to floor, made from a million counts of thread. A beige place, now pastel mixtures of blue and green. Unlike anything the gods could ever dream.

In my body there's a desert oasis on which even I haven't laid my sight. And as I sit here still, I feel it moving and humming like a generator when there's no light. Vibrating auroras through the skies of an African night.

In my soul there's a desert oasis. One that has betrayed the sight of many as mirage. A dissappearing trick, a myth, a facade. Here is where the weak are left for dead. The cruel collaboration between Hathor and Set.

In my body, where my heart stays,

between the fragile spaces,

there's an hourglass that holds my soul in which there's a desert...

where you'll find an oasis.
Rambling, it's s been a while. Hi though...
Mel Kay Oct 2017
I wrote a f-cking poem for you.

You tell me how they broke your heart and how you wished for someone who would love all your broken parts.

You'd say "She treated me like dirt" followed by a shrug. Then you turn your back to me when I lean in for a hug?

I think you're in denial, my attempts are plain to see.

So now you won't remember all those hours in your room, where I let you break all over me?

You ungrateful little sh-t.

What about that time I covered you with blankets and let you make me sick?

Blah blah blah...

I imagine your eyes right now, rolling back. "Whatever Mel, boo hoo."

But I wrote a f-cking poem for you.
I'm sorry this is such a mess. I wrote it with a lot of anger and I'm sorry for the language. Hope you all can see it for what it's worth.
Mel Kay Oct 2017
Putting on dress after dress, makeup and hair.

Untill she finally sits down in the chair and realises her absolute despair.

That intense horror bleeding from her eyes and running down her neck, like sweat.

Her final disregard for ****** expressions that might make her appear less than attractive.

Glorified weeping and sulking so ugly and so heart wrenching.

The sweetest sniffs and gasps for air. Oh how she could drag it out for hours.

One last breath as she looks at herself in the mirror, washes her face, takes off the dress and puts it all back into her mother's closet.

Miss you.
Mel Kay Oct 2017
Under florescent light,

I realise,

It seems as though my friends were right,

You're quite unkind.
Yes. YOU.
Mel Kay Oct 2017
And I told him:

Honey,
You let that girl get too close to the burning core that made you
YOU.

So she put out your fire
Because after all,
That's what people do.
So many times our fires were dimmed or  put out by people we loved. Don't let them steal your shine. Sometimes people are afraid of your fire because they don't understand it. Like I said, people put out fires, that's just what they do.

— The End —