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Kiana Lynn Dec 2015
Time flies, that’s what they say right?
But the alcohol still has its bite
and the drugs still have their haze
I’m walking hour to hour in a daze,
of what could have been,
should have been,
and would have been.
I’ve started drinking straight gin,
no time for the tonic, but we were toxic.
Maybe that’s why I like it, I take another swing and tell the movers ‘box it.’
How’s this the right thing,
when I’m still hurting and it’s spring.
The drinks no longer numb me,
I just want to feel free
but I don’t know how to move on,
at the end of the day I’m drunk, and you’re still gone.
Whiskey reminds me of you,
its burn is welcomed, right on cue.
I’m latching onto the bottle, wishing this wouldn’t be so hard to swallow.
I’m tired of you making me feel so hollow.
So I’m starting to play your favorite game of pretend,
telling myself that everything will be okay in the end.
Kiana Lynn Dec 2015
It’s 2:43am and I can feel you,
how you’d hover above me, staring at me with those baby blues
and with every pull of the bottle,
the taste of your name becomes less awful
and my thoughts start to blur
but I don’t think there’s any cure.
I want to wash you away in order to stay sane,
you’d disappear like even the worst stain.
The drugs came next,
and with each drag I feel less perplexed.
Is it you disappearing, or is it me?
From you, will I ever be free?
Cause the bottle’s almost empty,
and those drugs, we’ve no longer got plenty.
I’m running, chasing the bottoms of bottles in order to forget
just what you taste like on my lips.
I’m trying to remember to forget,
my lungs burning from multiple cigarettes.
The hollowness inside is what I’m running from,
the world fading into a distant hum.
The sheets still smell of your cologne,
and the pillows echo in my ear our every collected groan and moan.
I can almost still see your towel hanging in the bathroom on that crooked hook,
how can I outrun you, when you’re everywhere I look?
Kiana Lynn Oct 2015
They warned me,
saw, past the façade, what I couldn’t see.
“He loves, and leaves them”
Picks off the pedals until they’re nothing but the stem.
A fraction of what they could be,
broken down, sobbing on their knees.
But, I was blinded, I wouldn’t listen
my heart at risk, and he was on a mission.
They’d always warned me about the guys to avoid
bad boys, non-committers, the fixer uppers that’d leave me destroyed.
But what about the blue-eyed, charismatic man?
Why wasn’t he in any of their curriculum plans?
Chiseled face, a wicked smile,
words that managed to cover up anything vile.
They warned me
coming to truly see him, since I was unable to see.
He wasn’t like the others, that you’d obviously stay clear of
No, he oozed confidence and the ability to love.
I wish he’d worn a flashing sign that would have warned me off,
stopped me before he turned me so soft.
So be aware of those, even those with a pretty face
if you’re not careful it’s your heart they’ll run off with, leaving no trace.
Kiana Lynn Oct 2015
The crowded room makes it hard to breathe
my mind keeps spinning, what do you have up your sleeve?
I want to trust you, I want to be good enough
but with each day that passes, I’m starting to feel like it’s all a bluff.
There’s no space between us,
I can feel when we move, just how our bodies touch.
Yet we’ve never been father apart
but it wasn’t like this at the start.
How can souls, once so intertwined, drift so far?
You played each and every one of my strings, just like a guitar.
I’m twisted up, wrung out, drained to the core.
How many shots can I take before I bleed out on the floor?
It wasn’t supposed to be like this,
and I can’t help but reminisce.
When it is time to let go?
And how am I supposed to know?
This distance is tearing me apart,
I need a shock to kick-start my heart.
Where is it I’m supposed to be?
Anywhere that doesn’t involve you and me.
Our souls have been separated, and now our bodies follow.
I’m starting to understand, even though it was a tough pill to swallow.
There’s a light beyond you,
and I promise I’m going to see it through.
Kiana Lynn Oct 2015
I left my pen in my desk,
I buried my feelings deep in my chest.
The words had been lost
and now they’re back, my heart the cost.
I realized what pen and paper meant to me
they cleared up the muddled feelings so I could see.
But now I wish I’d seen you,
they didn’t warn me about what you could do.
I guess it’s good to know now,
so my heart didn’t get invested, only to take its last bow.
Friends.
You said you were different
filled my head with make-believe until I wasn’t coherent.
See, I neatly played my house of cards,
and when it fell, windows broke, and I tried to pick up the shards.
Bare Hands. Bloodied. Tired.
I wish I could take back all the actions that transpired.
Can we pretend?
Before, when this wasn’t a dead end.
Because I didn’t love you, but I cared
and you knew all my feelings, they lay bared.
“I won’t leave.”
You actually got me to believe.
That’s when you pulled away,
now I feel like ripped jeans; I’m frayed.
Not broken, but bruised
you left me beyond confused.
But, I’ve got my pen and paper
and my feelings, as I write, turn to vapor.
If you need to leave; go.
The hurt means I’ll grow.
Kiana Lynn Sep 2015
Easy come, easy go
it hurts a bit more than a stubbed toe.
The hurt means I cared,
but I can't let getting hurt make me scared.
I have to believe
even if you all will call me naive,
that not everyone will leave
even if the notion, right now, is hard to conceive.
Easy come, easy go
you packed up and left, it was the end of our show.
But it's not the end of mine.
For one day, all my stars will align.
Everything will fall into place,
I won't have lies told straight to my face.
Easy come, easy go...
From this hurt, I know I'll grow.
Kiana Lynn Jul 2015
Raw;
I want you to see my flaws.
It’s crazy, right?
When my skin’s bare, caught in your stare, I don’t want to take flight.
You need to see me, the real me
and not want to flee
because then I’ll know it’s real-
that there’s truth in what I feel.
Your hands caress me,
and soon I’m lost at sea-
No, I’m lost in ecstasy.
Your fingers tip-toe down my side,
leaving a trail of fire, from which I cannot hide.
Your name, lodged in my throat...
losing touch with reality, I’m trying to stay afloat.
Can you handle it?
Can you put up with my ****?
When the alcohol’s taken over
will you become rare to find, like a four-leaf clover?
Because it’s the alcohol that’ll show the deep parts of me,
along with when I’m tired, and it’s half past three,
you’ll get to know parts of me nobody else gets to see.
I’ll hand my secrets to you with one quiet plea,
“Keep them safe” and then with your promise I’ll feel free.
Until I wake, then it won’t be pretty,
you’ll get to see the nitty-gritty.
So can you put up with all of me?
Or do you want to flee?
I want you to see me raw,
because you’re slowly getting my defenses to thaw
and I need to be ready,
be able to get my heart to steady.
You’re a tidal wave,
one look, defenses down, and I know from then it’ll be you I crave.
But you need to be sure,
that what you’re feeling is pure.
So see me at my weakest,
and when I’m at my bleakest.
See me when I’m vulnerable with sleep,
and when all I can do is weep.
See me while I’m at my meanest,
and especially when I’m at my sweetest.
Know in your heart this is what you want,
and I’ll stand beside you, trying to seem nonchalant.
But when I know,
we’ll make sure to take it slow.
Every inch of me you’ll have memorized
and we’ll only stop when we need to re-energize.
The contours of your body will become an extension of myself
and we’ll be beside ourselves.
This love will be long,
and incredibly strong.
But you’ve got to be sure,
because once I have my taste, there will be no cure.
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