Kayla Denara Prentice

Kayla Denara Prentice Nov 2013

Humming

10/24
I wonder what my poems will be about once I understand us, and myself.

10/27 a.m.
A broken ******* a greyhound bus - how lyrical.

10/27 p.m.
I felt like I was being taken to my execution, but I was only going to your apartment.

11/5
"Now all I think about is you."

Kayla Denara Prentice Nov 2013

Another Language

Bones deflected the actions.
Dreams - wait nightmares - no, dreams. Haunt me.
All said, falling down the sky in waves.
Your stories, his or whomever, waving but looking the other way.
Another he turns to shadow-I, heavier than a child, and is diligent. Behaves.
What is the standard for being enough? Still Another he may know.
If nothing else, where can someone reach in?
Instead of flashes of being.
How do I notice I'm alive? - scrape myself away from my glinting rigid body.
Trees grow while I'm in overdrive - subhuman.
Pressed ideas into their heads - that's there - I be it.
"You're not here to re-re-re-replicate."
Fixed states
That bear of a thought
Nestled in the curve of my nose and in between his shredded palms.
Eighteen, newly, and already dead in between breaths.

http://suchpoeticthoughts.blogspot.com/2013/11/another-language.html

Kayla Denara Prentice Nov 2013

Winter in My Ears

I’ll hum as we take things
For granted
Because come on
No one ever really wants to know
And we’ll seek a bitter town
For a repressed enlightenment
You and your filthy smile
Draws me in from my DNA
Tricky tricky, spinning me around
And around
Cause you like it, the
Crystalline structure of fear
You, when you’re selfishly brilliant at
Keeping a silence
Muting like the snow
She would never think she would
Love lonely quiet
Who am I? I thought you were
Supposed to know

http://suchpoeticthoughts.blogspot.com/2013/11/winter-in-my-ears.html

Kayla Denara Prentice Nov 2013

Don't

A comfort, like the soap trilling down our backs.

I participated in a fast after hurting my hand from punching a wall and finding myself.

The strings rung so purely as I played with the poison in my jacket pocket.
I wonder if I should warn the boy.

http://suchpoeticthoughts.blogspot.com/2013/11/dont.html

Kayla Denara Prentice Oct 2013

Welcome, Ghosts.

The radio gave me a few thoughts that the rocks agreed upon between basket cases, the ones that we can’t speak and know all about – we aren’t bothered, they’re like the rivers of stories on our palms. Everything’s gone to ****, while you say not to forget all we have, like the scattered hairpins, don’t dare forget your *** in the drawer that haunts my running lows (welcome, ghosts).
This introduction was begged, old, all the little loves turned to stone whether I liked it or not. Just a being, learning the tears from the world’s claws.
“Darling, I’m lost.”

http://suchpoeticthoughts.blogspot.com/2013/10/digging.html

Kayla Denara Prentice Oct 2013

On the City Steps

1.
Everything used to warm my heart,
And shrink the world to the map of my hands.

2.
I think we are all born broken,
and we look through life in a camera lens,
trying to piece together our memories to mend ourselves.
We document our breaths for the sake of comparing,
and maybe to gain
a fleeting sense of significance.

3.
One bead of sweat drips
One shudder two breaths
Seventeen thoughts power-hungry
Five years whittled to the wind’s sigh
Two ways to tell the story
No one knows in the middle of the night

Kayla Denara Prentice Oct 2013

Where Laughter Goes to Die

The child grew inside itself; slowly over the years a jail was formed.

Everywhere, you were held - the cardinal rule.

"Draw your mind" and I, bathed in surrender, admitted myself to Hell.

All born broken; only pseudo-images created in lenses, piecing together lives -

Wanna being.

But I will be no more,

breaths humming a tune, shouts in mind, loving more when out the door.
Lets sit and watch air fall apart,

listen to the faded gasp of one last smiling shriek, (three a.m. world.)

**a housefirebook prompt