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mk Feb 2018
my body misses you more than i do

no, no,
hold up,
before you accuse me
of being a "*** addict"
or only "wanting you for your body"
hear me out

when i say my body misses you more than i do
i mean
when we
started being more like a you and a me
i didn't like it
but neither did my body

TMI but
my stomach hasn't been so well
going to the bathroom after every meal
and nausea kinda follows me around
it's hard to lift my feet off the ground
i feel heavy
like i don't know to explain
what that means
but basically
my knees are buckling
and there is a bolus of food
stuck in my windpipe
it's getting kinda hard to fight

last night i started craving
fried food and sugar
and okay- maybe that's just ***
but like
my period is a good ten days away
that's not to say
that it shouldn't be this way
but
it shouldn't be this way

i got onion rings
but then threw them all up
because i could smell the oil
there is downright turmoil
in this body of mine
its definitely not fine

i wonder if i have bulimia
but that seems too simple an explanation
there's more to this situation
yesterday we talked
and i felt like i could eat
a three course meal and keep it
but now,
****,
a bite and i run to the bathroom
is it food poisoning?
i doubt it
because if you were here right now
i would be fine

all that aside
my heart is crumbling
my chest is collapsing
i can feel my ribs
break and buckle
because they have no use
left anyway
with all that heart break
and ****

so
i miss you
i do
but my body does too
in sickness & in health-
mk Feb 2018
your cheeks blush
a light red, a dark pink
and i think to myself
maybe it's time
that i wash off the
oppression from your skin
the colonial violence
and the crimes against humanity
your eyes are a certain kind
of blue that i always
associated with privilege and pain
but maybe there's more to them
the ocean under the moon
the poppies mid-june
you burn under the sun
but maybe that isn't a punishment from God
instead a blessing from the
God of Sun who loves you
so much that She can't help but
kiss you just a little too long
your white skin speaks
of your history with your all too obvious
scars and bruises that shine
(you couldn't ever see mine)
maybe they are not from the wars you started
but the ones you fought
protecting yourself from your
own demons
while you button your shirt,
i see the light shadow of blonde
clean-shaven, button-up in a suit
white men with power over me
white men who want to hurt me
i am the enemy, i think.
he is the enemy, i think.
they are the enemy, i think.
or maybe-
maybe he is the midnights turned morning
the coffee and the cream cheese
the husband
the father
the start of a revolution
colored light brown, dark white
the lineage that is not of oppressors
the lineage that is not of the oppressed
the lineage
that is us-
survivors, fighters, or simply-
just two kids in love.
revisiting my colonial past and peeking a glance at my romantic future
mk Jan 2018
it was the first time i'd ever been in the passenger seat
with the music blaring next to me
your eyes never left the road
mine never left you
i felt that wind run through my hair
and a chill went down my spine
five years later, and we still have the same favorite songs
you sing the notes deeper than i do
but we have a broken sort of melody going
you're driving eighty miles an hour on a road
crowded with people; not fit for drivers like you
but i wasn't afraid for my life
i look over and smile-
if we die right now, i wouldn't mind
you say,
if we die right now, i'd be more than just fine
and we know it's true
five years later
and i still love you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_T8ml-P0GkI&list=RDMdh2p03cRfw&index=9
mk Jan 2018
the tides are closing in
the moon is just in reach
the grass seems taller

she's tripping
it's a whirlwind
sunsets in the sky tonight
trippy
mk Jan 2018
oh sunshine
  how do i tell you?
  i am flying so high
  above these clouds
  weightlessly mine

            **oh sunshine

                 how do i show you
                 the butterflies that live in me
                 my veins full of ecstasy
                 the warmth of that summer breeze

oh sunshine
  the monsoon comes closer
  and that rain is here to purify
  everything will find its place
  there is so much to see
  so little to say

             oh sunshine
                  how do i show you
                  there is so much more warmth than cold
                  these golden rays never get old
                  the grass blades sway with hope
                  there is so much more to live for

oh sunshine
  the morning is yet to come
  the dawn is where you're from
  hold my hand and let me show you
  together we'll run
  straight into the sun
good music, good vibes
  Dec 2017 mk
gillian chapman
i often feel like hollow light. If you
were to touch me, there would be
nothing but a hand passing through
a few swirling luminescent particles—
i am a ghost pretending to be human.
i admit that this is hard for me to say–
writing without wrapping words
in warmth is unsafe, risk-laden; my
fingers freeze up, unmoving,
suddenly unknowing. there are
a few moments each day when i lose
all my speech, and five, ten, fifteen
years of learning how to hold myself
together with shaky hands vanish,
swallowed like lifeboats sinking. i
would like to tell the truths buried in
my stomach—like cutting open the sky
and watching all the stars fall through
torn fabric—but each time my
words fail me, and so I will never call
myself a poet. perhaps one of the
most difficult things is writing
without metaphors—i can’t make
fear or pain or the shaky breaths
that happen after you’ve cried for too
long sound soft or lovely or like deep
ocean tremors, and now i am no longer
an artist, i am just the raw, bare soul
of a person who never quite got the
hang of stability. still i am attempting
to decipher how all these people
keep their feet on the ground, so if
you find anything for me to saw the
wings growing from my ankles off with,
let me know.
(g.c.) 12/16/17
  Dec 2017 mk
PaperclipPoems
I saw it in her eyes
She was going to leave
*But she didn’t know it yet
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