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Kealey May 2022
Him leaving,
It’s going to hurt.
It’ll burn and sting.
It’s going to hurt.
He will build you up,
Like Lego blocks,
Just to tear it all down,
It’s going to hurt.
He will convince you he loves you,
Say all the right things,
And he’ll still leave
And it’s going to hurt.
You will lay awake gasping at night,
While he sleeps,
While he dreams,
It’s going to hurt.
And I was expecting it too.
What I didn’t expect,
was that I Loved him more than I loved myself.
What I didn’t expect,
Was that I had planned for a future with him.
What I didn’t expect,
Was that it would hurt,
It would hurt so bad,
It killed me.
It killed the girl I used to be.
  Nov 2020 Kealey
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
  Nov 2020 Kealey
Krizel Grace
She's written with crimson red blood,
Unceasingly flowing
From her invisible cuts.

Dressed with carefully picked enthralling wordsー
Seemingly fitting, seemingly perfect
But as you read between the lines,
You'll be wrapped with her gloomy wilting vines.

She could either be a riddle
And leave you bewildered,
Or she could be an answer
And shed light upon you.

For she's a sad poem
But beautifully written.

©kg
  Jan 2019 Kealey
Carla
You miss a meal,
Then it turns to two,
A day passes,
And no one notices you.

Craving nutrition,
There goes a week,
Those many hours,
Longing for something to eat.

Using the same excuse,
"I'm not hungry, I just ate,"
The numbers keep dropping,
Was sixty-three, now fifty-eight.

You can't go back,
People are noticing you,
They say you should eat, and you say,
"You have something better to do."

It's harder than you think,
Just leave me alone!
Stop telling me to eat and drink!
If I need you, I can find my phone.
This poem is about an eating disorder, it’s dangerous and those that have it can be greatly effected. Not only them, but those around them as well.
Kealey Jan 2019
Bones,
Delicate, slender, beautiful.
Cheek bones,
That encase a beautiful face,
A glowing smile highlights those bones,
With a tint of pink.
Collar bones,
Which lead to big beautiful *******,
That are ****, and hold a head up high.
Ribs,
**** little bones, peering right through the skin
Showcasing every small gasp,
Every small breath.
Hip bones,
A product of a flat stomach,
Sharp and beautiful,
Something he can grab tenderly.
Knobby knees,
That have a gap between them,
A gap for someone to fit in.
And long spindly fingers,
Cold to the touch.
Bones,
I want to see them,
I want to touch them,
Caress them with a tenderness never shown to me,
Then perhaps, when I can touch the fragility of my bones, under my skin
Will I be happy with my body, with myself
No longer will I be the girl needing to lose weight,
I will be beautiful, wanted, cared about
Perhaps, even people will see how fragile I truly am,
Perhaps someone will look after me, finally.
Kealey Jan 2019
Eyes flutter while heads pound,
Memories come flooding in,
Someone else in the bed,
Soft smirks, asking how it was,
How what was?
Heart and head pounds,
Memories go blank,
Except small struggles,
Soft drunken no's, that go unheard,
Still touching, no stopping, please stop,
Blank,
Enough, smile,
It was good, it had to be,
Small nagging feelings,
Ignore, ignore, go away,
Nothing happened,
Everything stills,
Voices heard, but not recognised,
Shapes and shadows,
Nothing real, nothing happened,
Silent screams, as the world moves,
World moving, but I am not moving with it.
  Feb 2018 Kealey
Ripley Shaine
Ana
It starts out slowly
At first, you don't even notice it
You're busy, you'll do it later
But as more time passes you eat less and less
You begin making excuses
You ate a lot yesterday
You're fine.
One day, you lose "control."
The hunger gets the best of you.
You eat and eat and eat
Soon after, the tears begin pouring down.
And so you'll sneak to the bathroom,
maybe stick your toothbrush or finger,
down your convulsing throat.
You relieve yourself of the pressure, the guilt,
and the contents of your stomach all at once.
But they begin to notice.
You lose an unusual amount of weight and it all comes falling down.
You hear the words... but your ears refuse to hear..
"..nervosa"
"bulimia"
"anorexia"
Bits and pieces.
But you're fine, right?
Ana is your friend.
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