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Sadly Kida Jan 2018
Most of the time
when i´m alone
or I space out
i have that heavy
feeling
where its a mix of
being disconnected to people
around me and
myself
I don´t feel like
¨myself¨
I haven´t felt like
I was me
since 10th grade
I feel washed out
and everything I do
day to day
is just me
going through the motions
Sometimes I feel like this
and its hard to
get over it
I´m not sure if there´s
such thing as
getting over it
Sometimes its hard for me
to even remember what makes me happy
No amount of painting or music can
motivate me
It usually does
So now all i can do
is sleep
Only then it feels like
I can shut out
that heavy feeling
I wrote this thinking it would help
they say it helps
but it didn´t
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
I sometimes
don't wanna
exist
because why bother
waking up
in screaming
darkness
that makes me afraid
of heading to school
to feel all of the penetrating
sounds fall silent
Crusted sidewalks
with broken bottles
and ripped up
letters of empty
promises from family
members who never
show up
Empty stomachs
stained clothes
and a school system
who cares a little less
each day
But then there's
that one who makes the
day go from
dragging to
floating on cottony
childlike dreams
Whether it be
a parent
Or that sweetie
that turns your
cheeks red
I look forward to
that person
everyday
Once my eyes
flutter open
and the sun
spills its honey
milk rays
I think of
my sunflower
warm sweet
and undying
in my eyes
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
There was once
a being
with swelling bones
and a glass blown
heart
Eyes that turned
into liquid
pools of sunlight
and gleaming caves
of glowing
silk beauties
Every bone in their body
Seemed to deteriorate
like the rotted wood
that held together
the stability
of their mental state
Where lines were drawn
messily onto
hard wood walls
And as they grew
so did the lines
Dinners were made
and beds too
There were times where they
cried
every night
because of the
inevitability
No more
waking up to a warm bed
and soft sweet kisses
from the distant
sun
No more
streaky paintings
painful runs
and random mishaps
at the small market
that sold their favorite
salty snacks
Until one day
they met that person
that made everything
a little more
bearable
That electric pulse
that swam through their veins
when they simply
nudged knuckles
and battered sneakers
That one they thought of
right when their brain
flickered on
and all they could think of
was how the other
played with their hair
and bit their lip
as they read
That need for answers
of why bad things happened
vanished because
how would you enjoy
something so
pure like them
if everything else seemed
to shine just as bright
as them
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
I wish to inspire
the world
the way a mother
inspires her
child
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
There will be times
you will wake up
and realize that
sadness is
inevitable
That one person
you thought
could no longer hurt
your midday dreams
now aches
and swells
like an oil
burn from
early morning
soggy cakes
and black toast
That sadness
so deep
it feels like a
cold
empty well
that dreams to
hear the melodious
echos
of a young girl
And at times
tears will fall
watering the
withering lilies
of sleepless
nights
You'll fall madly
in love
It will consume
your soul
and leave butterfly
kisses on your
mended heart
No matter how well
you are doing
You will feel
that old pain
that sings softly
in the distance
And that's okay
because those bitter
sweet
droplets of
cloudy memories
made you
who you are
today
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
He reminds me
of warm
summer rain
that beats down
on rusted
paint can
lids
That endless
drumming that
swells my lungs
with honey melon
sweet nectar
He reminds me
of warm
clay
that melts
like butter
in saccharine
batches
of short lived
molded memories
now blossoming
like fresh tulips
in dark
earthy mounds
He is my
rain man
Like a strong storm
that dies down
just to kiss
the lakes that
bleed into
minty puddles
Fierce
and undying
he survived
all the
ash filled
chocolate boxes
and
empty
phone calls
from home
He is the
rain man
Sadly Kida Nov 2017
In a chaotic
world of
media hungry
oil dumping
maniacs
We all seem to
build a
liquidized
bubble of opinions
that form
around our
bulbous heads
as infants
spewing knowledge
like an uncontrollable
spring

Our ideas
chopped down
Like oak trees
in a sparse
forest
No longer holding
that nostalgic
dream of
fighting dragons

Now only holding
what seems to
be a building
of self crippling
worthless merchandise
and rotting wood
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