Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2017
I bet you will smile.
after this next sentence, you'll see.
That this was about you
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2019
And when you touch me
I feel a fire burn across my skin.
A touch that can only be described
As the fire I feel towards you.
A pain that isn't pain at all.
The warmth of something close as fire.
Traveling through every inch of skin.
My body open to the thrill of you.
The sensation of touching something hot,
To know lingering thrill.
Your presence always near.
A touch only described as the fire I feel towards you.
A pain that isn't pain at all.
My love for you.
A fire that rages on consumed with conquest.
And when you touch me
I feel a fire burn across my skin.
I explode in the look of look of your eyes.
No rain in sight to cool the feeling.
To yield unending blaze
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2018
At last, the truth came out.
I was an accessory to her outfit.
The many plastic bands that dangle against her wrist.
She was into fashion.
The appearance of how things look.
She placed more above me.
The beginning.
Lost in the reflection they'd give.
This false perception of how she'd feel inside.
She'd sit and fidget.
Checking her reflection on the screen of her phone.
Unable to differentiate who was who.
Another attachment left to sit on the dresser.
Laced in things to compensate what's missing.
The face of her phone cracked
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
Is this love that I feel
This need to have you near
This sensation that keeps you cradled.

 

The smell of brown sugar and pumpkin spice
Pieces of ourselves given in comfort;
The depth of ourselves inhaled deep
A sheer pleasure indulged stepping outside

 


Discovering a new branch of fear
[Should you leave]
If you ever
In The harsh wind of God's whisper
What of The memories left behind
Cinnamon brown, the wither of leaves soon to crumble
Never to glance back;

 

Turning to God for console
A renewed vision
At untimely end
Falling to what is left
My leaf
My desire
My branch
To pavement cold; bare
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2017
So many details.
So little time, it's essence.
Winter comes to soon
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
In my mind
Seeing you was the perfect form of communication.
To watch the expression of depth.
Every wrinkle that crinkles the side of your nose.
The sentiment grown from standing so close.
Eyes grown in anticipation.
Every depth expressed.
Explored until we're tired.
In my mind
seeing you was the perfect form of communication.
It's only so much to do behind the screens of phones.
The customization of emojis plastered on blank screen.
A temporary thrill that we enact before actual contact.
In my mind we restrict too much of ourselves with the press of a button.
Cheeks spread loose, folds undistracted by the moment where we ourselves are drawn to life
By what we anticipate most.
Without need to talk as much as we can before an abrupt end.
To consider you without call waiting or the awkward feeling of having to call you back.
Malicious moments before the call actually goes through
The introduction of physical smile.
Separately from the window of a phone
Leaving more room for availability
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
Mid way up the mountain, I turned around.
A solace breezed through the clouds, now older.
This sudden amnesia covered in snow.
This reoccurring season, was I ever changed.
Now grown with age.
The jagged edge between my fingers.
I grew self conscious.
An utter of silence hushed in the wind.
I sought rescue without proper justification.
The sights from here were breathtaking.
Watching breath turn to frost.
The cabin seemed so small from here.
Elevated peeping down on a snow covered roof.
All things considered I sought escape.
Confined to a small place with the blaze of an fireplace.
Quite funny how somethings change.
The sloping feel of emotion.
Feet scattering through ice regaining balance.
I was naked before the whole world.
Standing there before the mountain let out a hard cough.
Was I still the same.

Slipping off the ledge,
Holding on while watching a field of snow rush towards me.
I suppose the only reasonable thing to do.
Is let go.

This avalanche was you
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2019
Her love is urgent
Coming quick,
Reaching out with both arms extended.
Her love close to my heart,
Our feet no longer stray,
The result of prayers made on both knees.
Her arms give more than take
Finding their way inside mine.
Providing a warmth awaken by the tick of hearts.
Her love urgent,
Time assent.
My nose lost in the scent of her neck,
My arms tight around her.
I don't want to go.
Tomorrow a world away.
I don't want to wait
Her love close
Pressed tight,
Just beneath her chest.
Each throb in the palm of my hand
Reaching out with both arms extended.
I don't want to go.
My hands no longer by my side.
Her love ever more urgent
My love waiting my whole life for her.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2020
Her heart burst into the air
Like a zillion shards of red.
Her heart a fashion show
Displaying a jacket wrapped around
it's waist.
I fell in love, my heart following hers
in applause.
I'd never seen a live volcano before.
Not until she opened her mouth
& covered me with her heart.
Her heart a fashion show
Displaying a jacket wrapped around
it's waist & prints of confetti
blown against it's face.
Love but an invitation to our
own private island in the making
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
Good gawd O' lawd
I can't hide it.

Suppose to be doing other things.
Here she go again
Showing her face.

She packed her bags.
Left before the door could close.
Left fa' anotha man.

Lawd A mercy
Here she is again.
Showing her face.

I can't hide it lawd.
Catching the door fo' it close.
Suppose to be doing other things.

Find these old receipts.
Piece my heart here and there.
Good lawd I hid it from ma' self

She claimin' she leavin'
Come back wondering round
Showing her face.
Lawd A mercy

Left before the door could close
Left fa' anotha man
Lawd A mercy
Here she go again

Here I go again
Catching the door fo' it close.
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2020
She told me that she loves deep
& the swell of her heart
Holds so much water.
I myself never believed that
The world was round.
The clouds themselves
hang their shoulders
Out the dresses the sun has woven
& the sky proves that night gowns
Are not only brought in stores.
She told me that she loves deep
& the swell of her heart
Holds so much water.
With the stars of her eyes
Lighting the way.
I'll find a way
If she were to close her eyes
& the stars were to disappear
From the sky.
I am forever thankful.
Adorned in the swell
Of her heart
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2017
Building a relationship takes time.
A slow becoming of each other's identity.
A steady student in a firm desk where attendance is vital and homework isn't necessarily done with pen and paper.
To willingly give until nothing is left, to get on each other's nerves and have the courage to look each other in the eye and admit that your wrong, to say I love you deeper. Finding compromise in the smaller things.
Discovering new meaning rather than dismissing yourself every chance granted.
The building blocks to a firm foundation.
To create a support system that relies solely on devotion.
The care of another through sickness and in health.
To humble yourself in another, to find wisdom in sharing yourself.
Falling inside and out of problems without knowing the combination to every lock.
Each locker holding something different.
The impact found in arms reach of each other.
Where communication is vocalized in a different tone.
Every moment is precious, allowing yourself to be yourself with another.
A student whose back pack otherwise empty, now filled with knowledge.
Finally finding to solve for X when different variables are thrown in parenthesis.
The Y no longer important, finding a deeper meaning.
The things otherwise they never teach you at school.
Finding a love that never takes constant glances at the clock
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
To my surprise I got a call from a friend I haven't heard from in a long time,
Ecstatic, I was filled with instant delight.
Before I could say another word
she told me that she had a gift for me that in the utmost urgency I had to come get it.
A few moments later she sent a text message. One filled with the utmost emphasis of now,
When I showed up she had a sneaky grin on her face
Hands behind her back
asking if I was ready.
I couldn't help but smile replying of course.
Without warning she jumped up wrapping her arms and legs around me,
Whispering in my ear that she knows how much that I love hoodies, though it wasn't much, here was one that would never fade or tarnish .
Her face becoming an hood
Enveloping my face
occupying my hands with her back
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2017
Hate is such a strong word.
Yet you show me plenty of it.
You first flash your gun.
In compensation to cut wages.
Yet you remember me.
How you should have listened.
A siren of power rung.
the hands that flashed adamantly "no, please don't."
You ignore my cry.
Covering me in the congress of actions seen.
I guess bad decisions in part.
Act first speak later.
My spirit shattered in false hope.
I put firm trust in the light that flashed from your badge.
Thinking to myself its all a mistake.
To think I was half right.
It's much easier to edit flim or tape.
The disguise worn scene to scene.
You were never held accountable for your word or action.
In a couple of months everything will be thrown out.
A face sagged in misery.
Treating me your very worse,
Refusing to see that your very belief is the problem.
I couldn't say a thing.
The claps of your sole echoing against concrete.
A new victim found.
No matter how fast you run,
Your disguise can never hide what you've done.
You fled the scene before my body dropped.
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
She was my bad habit, an addiction that went without measurement.
The many times I've felt myself with her.
The cold sweats I've felt myself miss her.
The times I've felt that I was missing out.
I needed her then and there.
Constantly searching.
I had no shame attempting to purposely overdose.
Knowing that she'd always be there.
My addiction.
Feeding my every desire.
Lacing bits of her in everything that I did.
My bad habit.
There wasn't a sense of pride when it came to her.
Giving my last everything.
Just to feel close to her
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
I am completely out of good ideas.
This isn't exactly what I'd call good company.
Being alone with you.
A worthwhile bad memory.
To know the future doesn't seem all that bad.
Under certain conditions.
Preconceived notions of cause and effect.
It's unpredictable.
Yet predictable to see exactly where we're going.
Being in love with you seems like a bad idea.
I learned that the hard way.
The touch of a hand on the small of your back.
Afterwards we could both agree.
This was a really bad idea.
Picking up where the other left off
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
In a moment I am high,
Head swollen
Lost in the clouds

Laughing, talking
Far from the fear that exists 
When you are away.
My head inflated by the same breath

shared

in your presence.
These feelings dispersed by the taste of your lips.
Heaven but a breath away.
Lost in the sky with my giant head.

Love.. love... love love love
This rush of anticipation,

Not knowing what comes next 
Floating around with the largest smile.
The fear of falling miles away
Along with the feeling of being popped

among all things.
I've been taken by the whirlwind of your smile.

Below my body dangles,
My head perfect in your hands.
This simple pleasure visited &
Re-visited in the reflection of my eyes to yours.
Love.. love... love love love
The helium that keeps me afloat.
Love.. love... love love love

Your lips pressed to mine.
Without this taste of affection I'd surely die.
Love.. love... love love love 
But a breath away
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2018
When I feel you breath into me.
I am high.
I feel like a balloon.
Surrendered by belief.
This is the highest that I'll ever get.
To taste your freedom.
To breathe in it. To bask in it.
With each breath given, I hold on tighter in fear that
at any moment things could change.
That any moment may be my last.
Your kiss further confirms.
This bubble of joy that comes alive every time that you are around.
You blew life into me.
Teaching me the meaning of change.
A change I have yet learn.
Things that I have neglected myself.
I have lost the feeling of standing on the ground.
It is yours and yours alone, this breath I give back to you
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
She was like a banana.
The best part of her was on the inside.
The amount of insulin I'd need trying to devour her whole.
God knows how much I love the thought of that.
The effect she'd have on me.
Each time I'd see her I'd unravel her piece by piece until all of her shown like never before.
The only problem was I was allergic to bananas.
Although her smell was intoxicating.
One taste of her and my throat would instantly swell.
Though I wouldn't prefer anything artificial.
I wanted the real thing.
When I revealed all of this to her she just laughed.
She laughed her *** off as a matter of fact.
Rocking back and forth.
Her little brown shoes clicking together.
Her yellow skin now a bit red.
Her freckles now in full view.
When I asked why she laughed she said its quite alright.
Most people I've met speak so highly of themselves.
Your the first person to admit you correctly know how to open a banana.
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
Every night her thoughts drifted somewhere new.
Boarding a late night flight anywhere she could afford.
Living a broad.
One foot in a dream, the other in her bed.
Lost in the abyss of the clouds.
Suffering from a depression only cleared by the thought of clouds.
The sin of punctured veins seeking release.
A banshee roaming the taste
Of sorrow.
Freed only by the thought of escape.
Any place but there.
That feeling of always being trapped, alone.
Only at night is she free to roam as she once was.
Any place she could afford.
Boarding the next flight her soul could provide
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
I've baptized myself in you,
You've not just freed my body but the deepest cry
My soul could ever muster.
Thus creating an embassy of revolution.
In you, this holy sanctuary.
I felt the chill of water overlapping my face.
Born anew in the spirit.
Becoming a total embodiment of "US"
Wandering in the current of everlasting bliss.
Acquiring a part of you, a part of me.
Wisdom of the most high bestowed upon "US"
Granting logic outside of ourselves.
Understanding that love has a multitude of different level.
The inner child now mature in the manifestation of calm.
Learning that not every action requires a reaction.
But instead
Listening to the growth of everlasting stillness.
Laying flat in it's natural state.
No longer formed in the disturbance of it's ripple.
In a true understanding that everything external has depth
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2021
Your memories are a poem
Presented to me at the end of the bar.
Alone & fleeting; an escape from reality.
Wanting to take part in the meeting
Of strangers; A variety of faces exchanging
****** temptation disguised as liquid courage.
Chased by the thought of not being alone
Your memories are a poem
Refilled soon as it's emptied. Wished away,
Wanting to be pursued
In exchange for monetary currency.
Bad ideas that roam the ideology of good,
You fill me, I feel you.
I stand & I stumble around the thought of you.
You start to leave me soon as I start to feel you
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2017
Tomorrow I said that I'll soak and bathe in the middle of your heart.
That I'll remove clothes from skin.
Then run my hands underneath the faucet then take hand to soap.
Tomorrow I said that I'll find another book to not read and sit it up on top the shelf.
Giving you my undivided.
Lying in water surrounded by creme colored porcelain.
A wash rag and a bar of soap made of your smile.
Tomorrow I said that I'll be more of a talker.
Especially in the moments of silence that become instant memories.
The silence being but a moment to embrace a time where words do no justice.
Long soap foam beard. Soap foam covering each follicle of hair on top of our heads.
I know tomorrow I said that I would do all of this and more.
But why wait when now is just as good as time as any.
Cleansing myself in you
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2017
Nothing hurts more than anticipation.
The fear of the unknown.

 

A love yet spoken.
Unspoken in desire.

 

Yet it sits and grows in the vase planted.
An odd since of humor. 
It learned to smile.

 

Sprouting buds and leaves.
The taller it grew no longer
could it hide this desire.
Wrapping itself in vine.

 

Choosing to explore the unknown.
A love yet spoken.
Seen from the height of the vase planted.
It learned to smile more.

 

Finding a love seen from behind the glass.
It yearned for the sun,
Sleeping only when it couldn't be seen.
The sun.

 

The nourishment of dreams, granting peace.
A means to grow almost overnight.
Discovering more than this warmth felt root to stem.

 

The manifestation of the smallest thing.
Held tight, each bud, every leaf.
Symbolic of the heights reached.

 

Learning to speak in amplified volume.
It painted itself in infatuation.
Removing the price tag from the vase.

 

One of the greatest loves
Ever grown
Replanted outside.
Soaring above the clouds
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2017
To hold and acknowledge the representation of all things pure.
The gift of a black woman.
In picture perfect representation.
To hold the world in the palm of her hand. Your hand.
To birth all things beautiful.
You are the beholders of the universe.
With the patience and the endurance to witness the woes of stress.
To keep it all in stride.
You yourself are a living testament.
From the womb of resilience comes man.
With a duty to provide
To worship and protect the gift of our Queens.
A crown of wool radiating warmth.
The worry of pacing feet, cooled by the lapel of warm embrace.
From her mouth comes the food that nourishes the soul.
Around her tongue swirls knowledge of the universe.
The way her eyes connect with the stars.
Interwoven clouds that form the cuff of her crown, your crown.
With hair spread beneath her neck.
Flawless skin made of silk and honey.
With ripples of brown sugar, the moon, stars and cocoa.
Beneath her lashes lies the imagery of what she dreams most.
Her hands like the *** that brews the stew that warms the soul.
So much strength can be found. The way she holds her wrists steady.
To tame the cosmos that align against the beads of her bracelet.
Her talent , her embrace.
The way she gives herself as the wind.
Looming a sigh of relief.
Through you all life is formed.
Without her, Without you,
We'd all surely die.
Not knowing which way to go, baptized again by the palm of your hand.
This is a simple reminder to remind you that nothing could surpass you.
Beautiful black woman
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
And when I dream of you.
The pages turn.
Highlighting a million and one things.
All captivated by the sound we touched with our eyes.
Each played in beautiful melody.
I'd chase behind you.
Playing a symphony each time you'd smile.
Between the pause we were soft.
Supple.
Forgetting which one of us was sleeping.
Revealing all of our secrets.
You taught me how to sing.
Forgetting to move my mouth.
Each emotion thrown from my stomach.
When I dream of you,
I see all the colors.
So vividly played in beautiful color
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2019
My beautiful rose
My beautiful rose

As beautiful as the day is long,
No one knows why she blooms.
She blooms through the storm
whether the vase is ceramic or poreclin,
My beautiful rose.


She is most beautiful because she isn't an ordinary rose.
She finds the sun in any weather.
She says more than what a dozen roses can say.
My beautiful rose.

Beautiful as the day is long.


By chance if you find my beautiful rose.
Speak to her in a language she understands.
A language only the heart understands.


She uproots her self and spreads her heart.
Finding the sun in any weather.
No one knows why she blooms
But by chance you see my beautiful rose
You'd soon understand.
Why she blooms the way she does

Spreading her joy.
The way she blooms
If by chance you find my beautiful rose.
You'd know exactly why she is my beautiful rose
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2017
The next time we meet, I may be someone else.
 
Extra thick, light in weight.
Resourced to fit purpose.
 
The next time we meet,
I may be a splint. Easy to light.
The next time we meet.
Would silence truly do us justice.
Learning to cope before given reason.
 
Rounded off at the top, rough patterns felt between us both.
A spark that ignites the scrape of when I fell for you.
 
We stood there because we knew how we felt, we never truly understood.
Collecting ourselves in abrupt fire. Only a fool would stand to wither completely.
 
What else did we truly know but to extinguish ourselves in the same abrupt manner.
Breathing in each others essence. Stained in soot.
 
We lived in sulfur, sliming down in the same instance.
 Lighting myself before becoming contagious.
I thought this way because it was all I'd ever know
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2018
Asking a question does more than fill open space.
It expresses curiosity.
Devolving into things not easily expressed.
Given our availability.
It expresses a deeper need for connection.
Whether we are open to what we desire most.
Closed off to preference.
 The right time of day or night we can de-clutter.
Taking in what we give out.
Asking a question isn't something done out of boredom.
Or merely because your there.
It expresses a thought that requires action.
That I've thought of you.
That there is a desire laid bare.
An anticipation that builds until the next time
I am able to hear your voice.
For the more serious moments require a deeper tone.
An ear that senses deeper need.
Responding to this deep need of connection.
A need of care.
A need of longing.
To respond to this vulnerability not out of responsibility.
But in the openness of being
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
I'd like to think of her as a bible,
One undeniably within reach.
Free to the touch, the embrace of saving myself well, from myself.
Hearing myself in a way not thought possible.
I Convenient to the word she speaks.
The tenderness of realizing that the next moment is not promised.
Though I rejoice in taking the next moment as a promise.
Knowing that if I shall close my eyes and tomorrow never comes.
That I'll be present wherever she is.
Understanding that the beauty of her is not easily obtained.
The excitement of sitting in silence.
Allowing her to probe my mind.
To heal the aches not easily curable by anything other.
The taste of palm to cover.
To be remade by a higher power.
The miracle of knowing.
The metaphorical essence of innocence
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2017
Believe that around every corner lies a blessing in wait.
Believe that with each and every waking second that there is something to be uncovered.
Believe in your dreams, whether your wide awake or lying there in deep sleep.
Trust that there is nothing that can hold you back.
No matter what spirit, what circumstance that arises.
Your spirit vibrates at a high frequency. With the know how and ability to overcome adversity.
Though patience is labeled a virtue and the label reads as is.
It's one of the greatest gifts that goes misunderstood along with time.
If read long enough perception changes. 
The things that we may have overlooked, or come to us at a random moment that brings clarity to things otherwise we take for granted.
Sometimes it takes going on a long walk or just taking a moment to yourself.
Believe that the answer to everything you seek lies deep inside of you.
For peace of mind is Divine, and sometimes hard to obtain.
The things that constantly add up, watching our hands overfill without knowing what to do with the pieces thats already been given to us.
Whether it's a job, the people we face on a day to day basis or life in general.
It is at these very moments that we feel our way through, rather than rely on thought alone.
The world is built on a catalog of ideas.
Why not reach deeper into yourself and expound upon your very on catalog,
As this life thing only comes around once.
People will be people, things will always remain things,
But memories.
Memories always stand the test of time.
If something doesn't feel right, search your spirit.
There you'll find an abundance of knowledge in a deep well.
Always believe in yourself, always find that light that pushes you that extra mile.
Always believe that through any circumstance.
You have the power to change and manifest to life what ever you dream
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2020
& when you walk away
When the doors to your arms
Are no longer open.
Where do I go
To wander the thoughts that
Keep me warm & snug.
There are parts of you that twist
The thermostat that actives
This warmth.
& when you walk away
To where does the mail go addressed
With the stamp of your lips,
A place I call home.
Will it be delivered else where
& I forlorn.
When the doors to your arms
Are no longer open.
Where do I go
To wander the thoughts that
Keep me warm & snug
The ground shook beneath us,
Running beside the horse in her heart.
My feet, her hooves pressed deep
In her orifice.
Panting, our arms free in the wind,
Her eyes wild to those who try to tame her.
My stomach burns from the ache
Of trying to keep up.
I haven’t run this long or this hard
Since I was little.
No matter what I did,
She was always in front of me.
If I laughed, she’d neigh and bite the air.
Even if I was able to pass her,
It wasn’t long before she got back
In front of me.
Every part of me hurts, but all I can do
Is laugh, trying to keep up.
After a while, I fell out,
Sprawled out, catching my breath.
Soon, she walked over and laid down beside me
And licked my face.

Life’s too short to worry about
The bruises that travel up your legs.
It’s rare that you meet people
Who make you burn like this
The kind of love that pounds
And gallops.
She had a horse in her heart,
Wild and made of fire.
She didn’t want to escape,
Just needed a friend
We live in between the break
Of things,
Mostly broken and curled up
Into each other.
The glow of the screen,
The result of a million jolts
Crammed into one place.
I suppose we do need things
To spend our money on.
Things that we can add to our dreams.
Especially if it doesn't interrupt
What we've waited all day to watch.

For two broken pieces
Sitting together on the couch,
That's alright.
Of all the times you've appeared
In my dreams,
I cannot tell you what perfume
You had on,
Or what designer brand you wore
From any of the commercials
I've seen.
But when our show goes on break
Or whatever movie we're watching
goes off,
The best advertisement I've seen
Is the way you look at me
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2021
The best days of my life
Where’d you go?
Time flies trying to fit in
As much as you can.
Sleep barely comes
Running round losing track
Of time.
No one to tell you to stop,
Kind of loud
Kind of subtle.
The best days of my life.
Staying up all night
Not a care in the world.
Where’d you go?
The best of everything,
So little time.
Trying to fit in as much
As you can.
They tell you that these
Are the best,
You never realize until
It’s gone.
Memories of when we met
Memories of when we spent
The night.
The things we got caught doing,
But no one said a word.
Sleep barely comes
Lost somewhere having fun.
The best days of my life,
Where’d you go?
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2019
She sat on the shelf
Admiring the other dolls,
She'd been there for some time.
Watching the other dolls come & go.
The only one not wrapped in plastic.
She thought her self ugly
The other dolls never staying long.
The kids & their parents quickly by passing her.
Grabbing the dolls wrapped in box & plastic.
Although very beautiful she'd sit and contemplate the worst.
Watching the other dolls come & go.
The little black doll not wrapped in plastic.
She grew resentment.
Finding the only difference was in how she was made.
Her brown skin, her black hair.
She so longed to be taken to a loving home.
She didn't come with any accessories.
The vanity that came with the other dolls.
Her smile printed across her face.
Over time it became hard for that smile to stay.
Often crying when the lights turned off and the store closed.
She wanted a home just like the other dolls.
Quickly picked up,
Hurried over to the register.
She longed to be like all the other dolls.
Watching them all come and go.
Their hair tied behind their head.
All the make up and accessories sealed in their package.
It wasn't until one of the other dolls was returned.
Damaged.
Half stuffed into the package.
When she spoke to the other doll,
She discovered that not all homes are what you think.
Seeing how rough she was played with.
The rough marks across her face, her hair no longer tied in the package ponytail.
It wasn't until then that she realized that the best things come with time.
Finding the best home in herself
Beautiful black doll
Taken home to meet the girl she'd be with forever
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
I needed this so much.
A little alone time.
Designer jeans.
T-shirts printed with out the blue sayings.
A moment to ourselves home alone.
Wasting time just you & I.
Causally stretched across each other on the couch.
Commercials filled with Wal-mart families.
Insurance companies. Lawsuit claims.
Your sugar fills the space between shows.
Your head leaned back on my chest.

Neck twisted in a kiss.
The TV more so watching us.
The wait of working all week for this moment of relaxation.

The anticipation of butterflies, late night texts. 
The vintage shows we grew up watching, still our favorite.
I really missed you.
Your shoulder my favorite pillow.
The extended twenty-first question of our 21 Questions.
Sitting here with you.
Soon to fall asleep with you in my arms.
To wake up and do the same exact same thing.

To let you know that I made it home safe
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2021
Fear is a language all on its own.
Although broken, we understand soon
as we hear it.
No matter how well spoken
No matter how intuitive or savvy
We sabotage ourselves well after the
moment has passed.
I stepped outside of myself when I met
you.
Bilingual & open,
No matter how far you move or I.
I'll always remember you
I've memorized you in my heart
Where fear does not exist
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
Their feathers surrounded by the many trees and the many houses that sit down below.
They don't know the meaning of cages, why should they.
The majority of them that are fortunate,
The thoughts that make us feel in-etiquette.
Self doubt,
The reason their chrup's reign the highest.
The majority that are fortunate.
Rejoicing in the moment presented as now.
Repenting with each flap of their wings.
They are free.
Sitting on top of cable wires and cable poles.
Warming their feet.
Taking the many offers the world presents to them as the things we overlook.
A small reminder that silence is necessary
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2019
Sometimes I call to just blab
Alot of the time it's about nothing.
It's not really that I don't like to talk about how I feel.
It just takes it to another level
That we have this type of relationship.
That we can laugh & vibe about anything.
It's real because it gives a different type of importance.
A different type of love.
Something that doesn't have to be serious all the time.
I can dial you up or pop up and rest between your legs & just blab.
Blab & know that your really listening.
Blab because that's who we are.
Blab because there isn't any pride to it at all,
The world spins a bit slower
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2020
I've taken delicate walks
Where my hand
meets the arch of your back
& I've drowned
In the aroma of the sun kissed sun.
You've caressed in an whisper
where me myself & my thoughts
linger.
The foliage of your lips
Against the edge of my ear.
To where my memories of you are open ended
and bruised by the sigh of a thorn
Covered in black lace.
The glow of blackberry petals
in the September sun.
I've massaged your feet in the soil of my hands
& rested your back against the bend of fingers
Free to stand and grab the sun
against the side of your neck.
Next to my clothes
on the hardwood floor
Next to your blackberry lipstick
on the night stand
where we causally thirst in epiphany
spread far & wide
Over by the Mason jar filled with
Water.
Over by the night stand
Where you & I delicately walk inside
Each other
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2019
I want to be your black & mild
The thick hard plastic piece you
Slide between your lips
The thick hard piece you can't help but bite down on.
With each layer that withers away.
I want to reveal more of myself
In the comfort of where ever you take me.
I grow with such anticipation when you reach for me.
The moments counting down until you undress me from my wrapper.
With the touch of your hand only do I come alive.
The whispers only I can hear
Before my lips reach yours, embraced in a kiss.
Tempting you to bite down even harder.
I want this more than you could imagine.
Each ash thumped off, a testimony
To the moments that unknowingly go by.
A means of relief.
Making myself available for these special moments shared between you & I.
I want to be your black & mild.
The thick hard plastic piece you turn to for comfort.
My cologne granting peace with each puff you take.
Each layer of paper my words wrapping around you.
Flaked off without denial.
This is the effect you have on me.
Taking me deep inside of every thought with no explaination,
Our private conversations like ***.
Ignited in the whisper of a kiss.
Tucked soft between the nook of your fingers.
I want to be your black & mild.
I want to surrender only to you.
The thick plastic piece you hang out of your mouth cocked slightly to the side.
Until we both ****** and there is nothing left but hot ash
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2018
I legit never knew the beauty black roses possess.
I stared at one day after day.
She looked like she didn't want to be bothered.
Still she'd look and stare.
She grew differently than the red ones.
Prepackaged, given to others in mass quantity.
She'd sit alone and read amongst herself.
With arched eyebrows and shapely dress.
Most were afraid of her thorns. Despite all the beauty she possessed inside.
They only saw her outside.
Reason her thorns were so sharp.
The misconception that she was to be feared.
When in reality they protected her.
They made her to think that she was ugly.
The red roses that surrounded.
They'd bunch around her in fear of their own self conscious.
Attempting to stop her smile.
The more they tried, the more she stood out.
Grounded in her faith she grew out of her insecurity.
Being the regal beauty that she was.
Realizing the heroine she searched was inside her the whole time.
Her petals testimony to her root.
When I spoke she cheerfully replied with a smile.
I walked by day after day
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2016
The rumors are true,
Nighttime crowds, hand stuffed hoodies.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.
V neck t-shirts with decals printed on the back of them.
Sweatshirts. Loose cargo shorts.
The holiday of photo galleries captured between blinking eyes.
Tickets sold half priced.
Too bad movies aren't the way they used to be.
A stigma that everything around changes.
A few empty seats, one empty stall in the men's bathroom.
A exclusively graphic depiction of unzipped blouses, unbuttoned  pants.
Toilet tissue stuck to the bottom of worn shoes.
Suddenly there's a tote for whatever bag that needed to be held.
But then again we're just chatting, aren't we. Two souls with nothing to do but vandalize each other's mind.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2017
Most of my adult life
I've found a lot of past times
Soon my phone will die
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2016
She was curiously odd
A perfect stranger appearing after complete disaster
An accidental shoulder bump
coincidence to the next moment
She didn't let the world tell her who she was
She just was
She was Godlike in manner
The way she appeared
One moment nothing
The next a gust of wind, fast paced
crammed beneath the echo of feet against concrete
Next thing I knew she was gone
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
She kissed me unexpectedly.
Her lips softly pressed against mine.
My lips fully convinced, my thoughts of her.
My hands wanting to wrap around her back.
The look before her eyes closed & pressed her lips to mine.
I haven't been able to think of anything else.
Her admirer no longer secret,
The look in her eyes, revealing everything I tried to hide.
The look of urgency; The anticipation of a rushing heart.
Her lips a world I only dreamed
& I helpless to the way she tasted.
The best things happening at the most unexpected moments.
Her shoulders relaxed in the moment.
Her lips pressed against mine in comfort.
Unknowingly whispering the moment is ours.
My eyes close & I am a million miles from where I stood.
Her jawline stretched toward mine.
Revealing everything I tried to hide.
My hands wanting to wrap around her back.
The best things happening at the most unexpected moments.
Moments that pass quickly in the blink of an eye
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2020
That thin line is where
I want to be
Cut off between us two.
No matter how much we
change, this line will
always be.
Between motorized vehicles
the patter of shoes, old & new.
Spaced out between concrete plateaus and
painted highway lines.
The onlookers & passerbys
caught in the wind without second glance,
that thin line where I want to be
Can only be described as
Beside you.
Between the trees, beside the small lakes & birds
of your imagination,
That thin line where I end & you begin.
Our invisible bridge where my voice
tickles your ear & is miles long
That thin line that grasps your hand & mind.
No matter how much we change
this line will always be
& this line where we always meet
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
And there I felt a sense of elation.
Seeing it for the first time.
A sense of interest.
Soft spoken, somewhat political.
Funded by interest.
The likes and dislikes of what lures the climate of smile.
It felt surreal.

A breath of fresh air.
A simple reminder of the smallest thing.
Not once did it feel that it was too much.
Not once did it feel that it was vain.
Off beat.

Watching episode after episode,
Subtle unsubtle laughs.

The gist of different references.
Spontaneous in the avenue of conversation.
I drove to get a second look. Then once more around.
The freedom of advertisement.
Officially elected in detailed statement.
A festival of sorts.
I would turn the corner and see all of my favorite characters 
represented by my most favorite character.

To compliment surprise her cheeks rose like a billboard. 
If marketing research counts, I was instantly sold.
Finding she was a avid merchant.
Her infinite knowledge for detail.
The gap bridged between listening and speaking.
A new experience to a different sector of my brain.
The rescue of a struggling smile.
A festival of bright smiles and laughs.
Corners of strong jawline and spontaneous conversation.
It was incredible.

Catching the most important reference,
My favorite character in life.
Wearing a Bob's Burger t-shirt
Granting smile in a instant
A hermit crab
In love with his bongo.
Scuffles on with his bongo beat.
Each thump filling the empty space
Around him.
He walks the hot concrete.
In search of something like home.
His shell dragging behind
Weighing him down.
The thump no longer loud enough
To move its tiny body.
The rhythm barely rattling around its
shell.
After a while everything can turn into a drag.
But still, he scuffles on.
He smiles, stopping to take a break
On the grass.
The concrete burning his feet.
His tiny claws scraping across the bongo.
He looks over to his left.
To find an old boot.
Nodding her head, tapping the ground
Following along to the beat.
Although weathered, she too smiled.
Echoing back his loud thuds.
Her sole cracked but full of life.
Life happens in the strangest way sometimes.
Two outcasts alone.
Drumming up stories without a word.
Scuffling on a bongo heart.
Life doesn't have to be a drag all the time.
Next page