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Kathleen M May 17
my heart aches
for the women
who must relive
the trauma
for those who will
exist in fear
of their own bodies
and be punished
for their humanity
for the choices
made for them
by others
those who must
shadows of shame
designed by radicals
to satisfy
displaced morals
to rectify
personal limits
in a selfish world
women do not need
reverse philanthropy
women need
body sovereignty
our world
does not need
profound opinions
to thrive
your beliefs
are not fact
and women
are safer
Kathleen M May 12
her skin
looks like the sunset
its promise
sounds like her voice
and humble
singing songs of
witful phrases
the earth's spine shivers
in delight
of her footsteps
treading lightly
teaching ways of wonder
by seeing through the eyes
of children
and speaking in tongues
of brilliance
she is a flower
my mother
welcoming the rain
forgiving the clouds
and blooming
in sunlight
Happy Mother's Day!
Kathleen M Apr 17
if i had known that the pain
i'd have to endure by you
would eventually earn me him
i would cut my own wrists
and watch them bleed
i'd let you
wound me with your vocal weapon
i'd beg you
wrap your hands around me
around my swollen neck
bruise my heart until you're satisfied
and leave me in pieces
spread them far and wide enough
so that he will find me
find me everywhere
leave me empty enough so that he can
fill me up and mend the cracks
of my battered surface
let him be the soil that sows my seed
the core to my being
then we shall grow together
and bloom in unison
in sunlight
Kathleen M Mar 1
a figure in the mirror
blurred vision
and she screams
inaudible crying
makes her ears ring
and only in silence
jaws clenched
in fear of blindness
she prays to the Gods
nobody agrees with
begging for an identity
to quiet the chaos
she's praying for glue
something to stick
tired and sick
of the nausea
for no reason
give her a reason
just a meal that lasts
long enough
to end the hunger
the peddle that drives her
to change
over and over again
in search of a mask
just something to satisfy
a name to call herself
she begs to bloom
she begs to hatch
to let her be born
into herself
for once
to end the cycle
to be not the picture
painted by others
drawn with crayon pencils
outside the lines
and in all the wrong
Kathleen M Oct 2018
touch my face and feel my gut
it's knotted up, punctured and twisted
with knives of lovers lost
look at me with shame and forget me
no longer call me by my name, brother
i'm barren from the child i chose not to let be
yet still swollen from the emptiness
stepping on nails, sharp as i pace back and forth
tattered soles and tattered souls
can't overcome the obstacle without proper shoes
end my suffering with a needle or two
let ooze the regretful sorrow that feeds on my sanity
drain the abscess that is my conscience
my conscious mind
it throbs beneath my skin
and whispers secrets from hell, ear to ear
on sunny days
tiny voices and threatening reminders
of crimes not yet repented
committed in fear of solitude
ways to escape unknown, unwanted
negligent to what could be
because the what is distracts me
traps me
i must first love myself
to be loved by you
everyday is a chance to recreate
we know that
our limbs grow longer ingesting opportunity
but hear me when i shout to you from the asphalt
the world unwillingly grows smaller and smaller
and chances are slimmer, slander
luck be eradicated
because pieces of us
have been
In reflection of my observational experience with the community of addicted individuals living on the streets of downtown Vancouver, I attempted to put myself in the shoes of the less-privileged to help me understand the cyclical, inescapable lifestyle so many struggle with everyday in our country.
Kathleen M Oct 2018
fell in love with yesterday's smile
a photo at the beach
its thousand words i wished to hear you speak
though they not went unheard
by these eager ears
and hungry eyes
i was famished by the need for you
my lonely heart throbbed an unfamiliar rhythm
a silent mating call
and i heard you then, too
mind flooded with premonition
and demolition
of heinous memories
of previous torturers
employed by heaven
to learn me something
worthy of heirloom
wisdom for my time
and for the times to come
fell in love with yesterday's smile
before our faces met
your photo at the beach
spoke to me in languages not of my mother
its words transcend the time i worship
for now what i worship is you
Kathleen M Oct 2018
little white envelope
sealed with a promise
just like the others
open to find means to a better end
no bitter ends will you let begin
colourful notes meant to read
i love you
words not easily spoken
through clenched teeth
jaws locked
rusted with time
years spent unhinged
spoiled words spoken between lips
unforgiving winds
their destruction still left to rebuild
tension releases by passing annum
moments spent in silence
make way for healing
and days left to heal with you are unknown
days left are precious
words are simple
beholden to their potential
barriers thin but exist nonetheless
not in contempt
but in habit
detox made easier by bullet holes
of past attempts to infiltrate
your kingdom
of fatherhood
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