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Feb 2014 · 2.6k
Beautiful
Kay P Feb 2014
Life is beautiful
they tell the
generation born of
depression and
anxiety.

Life is beautiful
with higher percentages
of suicide than
highschool
drop outs

Life is beautiful
to the “me” generation
called self centered
because of
selfies

Life is beautiful
to the highest
price of living
in American
history

Life is beautiful
to the generation
that romanticizes
death.
February 17th, 2014
Feb 2014 · 398
Another
Kay P Feb 2014
There is another, in me
She speaks when I am silent
who smiles when tears pool
who stares blatantly whilst
my gaze skirts,
avoids
ignores

There is another, in me
She scoffs at others opinions
pops bubblegum and flicks hair
smells of leather and steel
cares for herself before others
takes what she wants
grasps, holds
keeps

There is another, in me
She breathes insults and advice
tells tales of blatant honesty
shares easily for she knows
that her things
will not leave, run off
abandon
but remain
hers.
February 16th, 2014
Feb 2014 · 1.3k
A is For
Kay P Feb 2014
I am worth
christian childhoods
I am worth
hesitant hugs
I am worth
doubtful declarations
I am worth
useless ultimatums
I am worth
apathetic altercations
I am worth
queer questionings
I am worth
emotional endings
I am worth
better beginnings
I am worth
fearful friendliness
I am worth
gallant generosity
I am worth
ingenious individuality
I am worth
jaded jealousy
I am worth
kind kleptomania
I am worth
lost love
I am worth
masochistic musings
I am worth
sadistic sadness
I am worth
notorious negativity
I am worth
obvious obsession
I am worth
pathetic pain
I am worth
******* reactions
I am worth
tenacious truths
I am worth
vicious violence
I am worth
wry withering
I am worth
youthful yesterdays
I am worth
zany zoetry
I am worth
more than I
deserve
February 16th, 2014
Feb 2014 · 808
Communication Skills
Kay P Feb 2014
sometimes i open my mouth

you never seem to notice the little jolts
when i decide to say something
stupid
like it doesn’t matter who hears
because no one is listening anyway
and those who do can not interpret
can find no inner meaning
and when the words retract
like measuring tape
it’s not great loss
for humanity

sometimes i open my mouth

and words flow like nectar
honey of arsenic, syrup of mercury
sweet sounding and harsh to taste
poison fermented, sugar-coated,
smooth and sticky and full of sharp edges
broken glass and razor blades
hurt you hurt me hurt everyone
close enough

sometimes i open my mouth

and song bursts forth like butterflies
like birds of prey circling overhead
like shining sunlight and cloaked shadow
like clear crisp air and clearer night skies
like the full moon full of craters
thousands of miles away
sometimes too high and others too low
sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow
and sometimes the song trembles
my voice too powerful
for its composition

sometimes i open my mouth

and silence seeps, black ichor
staining lips and fingers
slipping down throats and dribbling through teeth
and soaking into skin like stains on clothing
creeping and filling the space between
my body and my mind
my friends and my heart
burning and tearing at the *****
until i am drowning on oxygen

sometimes i open my mouth

and scream
my mouth stretched wide as it can go
teeth bared, lips curled,
letting lose a high, free sound
free as a bird and flying until i can feel it
taste the release on my tongue
a sound not of fear but of triumph
ignore me now, pretend you can’t see
howling at the world as a wolf does the moon
i am here, i am here, i am

opening my mouth
February 25th, 2014

— The End —