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Jul 2016 · 394
3 hours before Dallas
Kiara McNeil Jul 2016
I feel like I'm drowning in blood,
Blood that is not my own, but is all too familiar.
The bodies, the faces, the experiences, and the blood is all too familiar, and all too painful to fully absorb.
What starts off as a puddle soon becomes an ocean that will either swallow me whole
Or deliver me to deaths door.
I feel like we are moving towards an inevitable, Devastating, ****** end,
Where blood floods the street.
But by then whose blood will it be?
Those of my circle or theirs
I wrote this three hours before the incident in Dallas happened which caused many to lose their lives.
Apr 2012 · 553
the flame.
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Long ago.

Possibly when I was eleven years old.

I lit the first match.

That light fueled the fire in my heart.

Smeared my soul with darkness.

I watched everything  burn.




Poetic pyro’s .

That’s what we called our group.

Watch the flames flicker as our art took its shape.

My first kiss was stolen as I watched the flames flicker across his face.

I watch.

I grow.

I learn.

With every building.

With every match.

My soul curls.

My soul darkens.

I burn.
Apr 2012 · 831
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Empty is the heart, full is the mind, the present is in front, so don’t love behind.

give me your hand.

i’ll give you my time, waste my love and I will not lie.

I will leave.

Never to return

Never to love again.

Experience is the best teacher.

You will,

They will and that

I have learned.
Apr 2012 · 476
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Take the knife out my back.
Take back the bullets from my mind.
I can only heal if I pardon you from your love crimes.
Apr 2012 · 600
Between Winter and Spring
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Somewhere between winter and fall,

I realized I loved you.

I had said the words countless times,

like a mantra,

or a great idea that couldn’t fail.

But it did.

When I realized it was love,

I found myself laughing.

I, the strong one, the one who wouldn’t break,

was dying of the sick irony that I love you,

and you didn’t love me.

Between winter and spring,

I got out of that rut.

Of wanting you,

Needing you.

Missing you.

I thawed out from winters cold indifference,

and sprang to life in the spring,

accepting that it was love,

that I could love,

that I did,

and that the idea of love created that bond,

an attachment of sorts if you think of it that way.

Between winter and spring.

I stopped needing you.

Between now and eternity,

I can never stop loving you.

I can’t thank you enough for what you taught me.

I always felt love made me weak,

but it made me strong, I was able to pick myself off the ground.

You helped mold me,

you painted a piece of the woman that will be me.

Between winter and spring,

I thought I was going crazy,

Now as I move to spring, and summer,

the ideas and notions of love no longer scare me or make me feel weak.

Between winter and spring,

you made me strong.
Apr 2012 · 494
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
How drunk are we?
How much do we regret?
If love is the answer.
How much did we forget?
If it’s magic,
How much can we learn?
If a magician never shows their secret,
then who do we burn?
Apr 2012 · 560
the rain
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
It always happens in the rain.
The same phone call.
Or the nervous shuffling of feet.
The familiar look of sorrow and relief all masked behind traitorous eyes.
The break up.
I’m not quite sure if they all meet up and trade tips
on how I handle break ups worse.
I keep my cool,
but it always rains when it occurs.
The smooth petals of rain sprinkling down my face
as I nod, trying to be congenial, knowing this time
that being perfect simply wasn’t enough.
So I kiss the rain drops,
allowing them to be the false tears
that help cleanse my soul.
We can not be friends.
I lie for the first time to each man.
Saying that we can be friends,
knowing my feelings run deep and far
like the birth of the Nile.
I befriend the rain
until the stars take me home.
Apr 2012 · 1.9k
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Anyone can share their body.
But to bear ones soul to the eyes
of another is the epitome of being naked.
To expose your barriers,
to open up to that person,
knowing that at any moment they could change their mind.
Looking past make up,
skin tones,
weight and self esteem, there lies an entity all in its own.
Strong, but yet a piece is missing.
A piece where you find you fit perfectly.
If only they would allow you to cradle and nature their soul
with the care of a mother to an infant.
But then you spot it,
a hint of distrust.
There is no such thing as free lunch, or so they say.
You cut down your barriers,
Pushing past the walls you’ve built up,
And past the trust issues.
You lie there, open, vulnerable,
Just as they and you understand their distrust.
Distrust not for them but for the carelessness of man.
To carry a soul is not like carrying a purse, or a knapsack.  
You swallow it.
It becomes a part of you, and you apart of it.
You find yourself becoming one with something bigger than yourself.
And it’s terribly frightening, isn’t it?
You can feel it can’t you?
Two hearts, and yet one heart beat.
Four lungs, and yet one breath.
You can feel the blood gushing to your ears as you carry
Around this burden if you think of it that way.
But it’s a beautiful burden, one you nurture, you allow to grow,
and yet it scares you as it grows.
As you can’t find yourself as yourself.
It becomes “we” and no longer “me”
It becomes “Us” and no  longer “I”
The change in the air is palpable.
It’s frightening,
For both of you.
You can count the heart beats of a lone cricket until you meet again,
Until you kiss again.
But the kiss is different, not entirely in its taste but in it’s dress.
It’s like being kissed by a star.
You’re not sure where you begin and it ends.
You don’t want to, do you?
Now there’s a permanent lazy smile plastered across your face.
As if you’ve got a secret riddle that no one can solve.

But you don’t.
You’ve found it.
What scientists search for.
The meaning to life resting in your heart
and dancing just on the outskirts of your sanity.
It’s funny.
Soul mates always sounded like something Hollywood
Would use to get you to purchase a ticket.
Now your soulmate has brought you to purchase
An Investment.
An Investment in them and life.  

*When I typed in the title, the read squiggly line came up at the bottom, I realized soulmates isn't a word it's a concept. Possibly might change the title later.
Apr 2012 · 748
all that's left is anger.
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
Flushed red
from the anger of the situation.
The blade pressed into your neck,
shaking with anticipation.
Should I cut your lips,
or just go straight for castration.
Don’t beg,
sadly there can be no negotiation.
I can’t feel it, but I can see it.
The knife in my back,
Words form perfectly in my mind,
but my mouth hangs slack.
I can’t cry, yes I have tried.
I should probably cut this short,
all because you lied.
Apr 2012 · 473
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
One day your little boy is going to grow up
and your little girl won’t just be playing in mommy’s make up.
The childish glow will fade.
Maturity will sink in with age.
And on that day as we’ve all been told,
gracefully we will have all grown old.
Apr 2012 · 451
Fear and Faith
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
We base our truth in fear.
We fear what we can’t see.
The absence of proof doesn’t prove much,
because you can’t see me.
Does that mean I don’t exist?
Do my words cease and desist?
Just because you see footsteps in the sand,
does that mean there walks a dead man?
Faith is our greatest treasure and regret.
Base your truth on what believe because you ain’t see nothing ye
Apr 2012 · 295
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
I don’t touch
because soon touching won’t be enough.
I won’t ****,
because ******* isn’t love.
I won’t love,
because it’s not true.
It’s not true,
because he could never be you.
Apr 2012 · 1.0k
Kiara McNeil Apr 2012
It happened by complete accident.
I would get a few dozen roses from the deserted patch where they grow,
Completely natural, beauty and thorns in all.
Catch the first bus to the cemetery.
Whistle as I walked up the first hill and hum
as I dipped down the second one.
I would lay one rose on each grave.
Sitting staring at the stone, wondering, hoping,
that they died peacefully, or for a cause.
As I had my last two roses in tow,
my fingers cold, I pricked my finger as I stopped at the last two headstones.
There side by side lay my grandparents.
The only two people there that I actually knew,
and yet didn’t know at all.
I can still remember my grandmothers scratchy voice, the smell of holy oil, the way she looked in her last years tucked underneath the quilt as most of her had already died.
Then my grandfather, I don’t remember his voice at all.
I remember his trains, sneaking and playing with them knowing one day he just might let me push the button to make the whole scene come to life.
But that day never did come.
It never would.
After years of placing flowers and saying a silent prayer
for those I didn’t know,
I felt completely awkward and out of place, almost as if
I was disturbing their moment.
I felt even worse as I watched the blood droplets drip onto their graves.
Even in death I felt like their burden.
I wasn’t suppose to be alive, I wasn’t suppose to make it,
and yet they lay underneath six feet of cold unloving dirt,
and I stand here crushing the stems of the roses in nervousness, fear, and confusion.
Youth never guarantees life.
Age never guarantees wisdom.
In their eyes, I remember the awkward stares.
In their arms, I felt the half hugs.
In their hearts, my father the biggest mistake that their daughter could have ever trusted.
And I, unwanted and unneeded, am a  constant reminder of his psychological and verbal abuse and infidelity.
By now the roses have met the dirt.
I feel no sting from the blood pouring from my hand.
Only a cold emptiness I could never fill.
An emptiness I never noticed until now.
Then suddenly, I feel it.
Two hands on both of my shoulders.
Massaging it gently, bringing warmth into my body.
As I turn around to thank the stranger there is no one.
I smile, look up, and nod.
I pick the red roses and place each one on each grave.
I nod to both before turning away and taking the same path to the exit.
Catching the bus.
Palming the fake doctors note.
And returning to school.
Somehow, somewhere things may never be great,
But they will be alright.
Jan 2012 · 586
uphill struggle.
Kiara McNeil Jan 2012
It's like pushing a rock uphill.
The load is heavy.
I even stop to cry sometimes.
But by the setting sun, much like the rock, I'm over you.
Oct 2011 · 712
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
I faced death once.
He swung.
I dodged.
Death has a face of beauty.

and Sensual.
I faced death once.
Death is beautiful.

No control.
Lust at the maximum.
I faced death one
Death is beautiful.

I died once.
Death cradled me in its arm.
And kissed me back to life.
Death is terribly, and horribly beautiful.

It wasn't my time.
It's not my line.
My heart only beats to meet death again.


Death is beautiful.
Oct 2011 · 585
the creator.
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
I twisted his face into gold.
And his tongue into perfection.
In my mind.
I molded Adonis.
better than adonis.
He spoke directly.
Never sugar coated.
****** me once, and yet seven different ways.

And now I realize.
Through my disillusioned eyes.
It is not his fault.
I created the lies.
Oct 2011 · 544
I am a mistake.
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
I am the product of a broken ******.
I am the continuation of a broken relationship.
I am the mangled truth.

Please don’t love me,

because much like my existence.

It will be a mistake.
Oct 2011 · 522
life be my iron
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
I feel myself stressed and pressed.
Underneath the pressure.
Life is my iron.

It burns.
It’s hot.
It’s a constant movement.

But it’s there,
To straighten me out.
To make me look good.

at least in public.
Oct 2011 · 1.2k
say you will
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
Show me what you are.
Show me what you mean.
Do you love me?
Or do you love what lies in between?
Is it my mind or my thighs.
Is it lust or the prize.

Spit facts like venom.
Show me what it is you crave.
Love me, don’t leave me.
Or my heart will never meet the grave.
Be my angel in the apocalypse.
Be the calm waters for my ship.

Don’t deprive me of you.
Don’t say I don’t love you.
I’ll never put anyone above you.
Forever I shall trust you.
But please don’t love to ****.
Please love me, say you will.
Oct 2011 · 828
Questions to be unanswered.
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
Where is the perfection?
In a world full of incorrect corrections.

Where is the selection?
In a world with too many plastic injections.

Why use your *******?
In a world that hates protection.
Oct 2011 · 461
living. to. die.
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
One day the world loves you.
The next day it hates you.
It molds you, and controls you.
It physically shapes you.
It beats you down.
It grates you.
Strips you of all you had.
Strips you of anger, happiness, just leaves you sad.
But is it all that bad?
It teaches us to lust.
It teaches us to trust.
It teaches us to love.
It reveals our souls.
It let’s us go, and let’s us know.
We’re living to die.
Oct 2011 · 636
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
Sing me a song.
Sing me to sleep.
Tell me you love me.
Tell me something deep.
I don’t really care what,
I just need to hear your voice.
I’m sickened by my choice.
My life is at a stand still
When you’re not here.
I don’t want to lose you,
That’s my fear.
So for the right here and right now
Talk to me, sing to me, believe in me.
Oct 2011 · 441
twas you
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
It’s rare that I cry.
Not even for my life.
But when I do, it’s a single tear.
A tear that rolls along.
Creeping from the corner,
Sliding down my cheek.
I don’t push it away.
I don’t wipe it.
I allow it to tickle and taunt me.
It’s proof.
Proof that what I feel is true.
Proof that it wasn’t me,
It was you.
Oct 2011 · 454
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
The sound of the match,
The ignition of the lighter.
It ignites a fire inside her.
The flame.
It gives birth.
It takes life.
It sways from the left to right.
It lights up the night.
It gives warmth.
It takes heat.
It's a pain,
Flames infect her membrane.
“Burn ****, **** society”
She burns what she cannot tame.
She burns what they call “lame”
She raised an army of flames,
That rose up due to the hatred in her brain
And her veins.
The fire can burn up all.
Except the lonely pain.
Oct 2011 · 718
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
Keep me around long enough.
Just to play me.

Love me enough.
Just to hate me.

Spit venom.
Words do hurt.
Actions now are over rated.
Don’t mean to be curt.
Looks don’t mean ****.
Personality is just as worse.

People can make themselves seem like a dream.
In actuality, they’re a fein addicted to killin feelings.
Something said don’t.
I didn’t listen.
Now my heart is missing.

**** tears, crying won’t change it.
My emotions, I had to hang them.
Tired of being weak.
Tired of the way you speak.

Babe, eat your words.
Bite the bullet.
Kiss the curb.
Swallow your nerves.
Hate my words.

Chocolate kisses.
Afternoon oral.
Nothing left of me is moral.
My soul is tainted and soiled.
I can’t help it, you’re spoiled.

You rack up the hearts.
Kind words slide from your lips.
Hip to hip.
Lips on lips.
This is it.

Who is she.
She is not I.
I shall not cry.
I always wanted that to be me.
Yet, I enjoy being free.
Not being trapped.
Not being suffocated.
I enjoy my dark soul now.
It leaks sarcasm and hatred like a rain cloud.

So for right now.
I’m burning your book.
Burning your lies.
Severing our ties.
Giving truth to your lies.

Taking back what’s mine.
Swallowing my emotions like the devils potion.
Once six feet under yet now
I’m on cloud 115 floating.
I’m high with no smoking.
I’m moving on just like the current of the ocean.

And currently, over you.
and done moping.

So done moping.
Oct 2011 · 365
you are
Kiara McNeil Oct 2011
Words cannot describe what you mean to me.
But I can try.
You are the puff of hopeful wind in the summer heat.

You are the friction between the ****** position.
You are the love in all of the fall kisses.
You are the hope that our generation dismisses.

What are you to me?
You are more than the air I breathe.
You are the life in every cell that makes up my being

You are the fire that gives rebirth.
You are the spring rain, feeding the earth.
You are what I want, no, what I need.

You are a memory.
You are a roaming thought.
You are the whisper in the wind of yesterday.

You are love.
Sep 2011 · 438
Kiara McNeil Sep 2011
"I don't know what world you live in where you think I'm nice.."
I've always been one to think twice.
Possibly three times.
But this time,
It's goodbye.
Insults falter on the tip of my tongue.
Daring to dance with your mentality.
Wanting to hurt you, as bad as you hurt me.
You think it is I that am disillusioned.
Yet it is you, who keeps me in blissful confusion.
You tease me with the idea of we
You push me to believe there maybe an us.
But what should I trust?
Who should I love?
I fell in love with the one who is nice?
I have no appointments to be heartbroken twice.
Sep 2011 · 491
Kiara McNeil Sep 2011
You don't want to be a good guy.
But baby you are.
You want to hurt me with your words.
Yet your eyes glisten like the stars.
You want me to go away.
Your heart screams for me to stay.
This isn't recess,
I'm not down to play the games.
Sep 2011 · 403
Kiara McNeil Sep 2011
empty waters.
filled lies.
we lie in graves.
Aug 2011 · 579
Sealed with a kiss.
Kiara McNeil Aug 2011
Seal it with a kiss.
A soft sensuous kiss.
Let me lightly feel your lips.
My fingers trace where the warmth was.
I cradle the flowers, and read the words lightly.

*From Michael, sealed with a kiss
Aug 2011 · 714
Just like paper
Kiara McNeil Aug 2011
Touch me.
Hold me.
Bend me.
Fold me.
Ball me up.
Throw me away.
Rip me into a million shreds.
You treat my heart like, paper.
Jul 2011 · 347
where to go
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
there's not enough space for both of us.
inside my head.
Jul 2011 · 561
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I'm going down the rabbithole.
Gladly, I admit.
I've cooked up my madness,
and swallowed quite  a bit.
I can't wait to be eaten alive
and greeted by it once more.
Reality is dead.
And society is beating on my front door.
But what do I care?
I cover myself in a blanket of insanity,
from my feet to my hair.
Oh heavens, this wonderful.
I don't have to think or believe anymore.
Trust in insanity.
I swallow the key and close the door.

Welcome to the Endland.
Jul 2011 · 437
What he thought he found
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
He was strong.
He knew how to hustle.
He wanted to survive then he found love.

He lost his home.
He left town.
He got back everything, then he found love.

He came back home.
He received it back, a third time.
He was better than ever, then he found love.

He was lonely.
He thought family didn't care.
Lust became a problem, because he thought he found love.

Now he's stuck.
All bridges burned.
No one to turn to, not even "love".
.. A poem I wrote about my brother.
Jul 2011 · 498
naked truth.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
i don't need a lack of clothes.
i just need your indifferent glare.
Jul 2011 · 509
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
His name is not important.
Neither is his face.
Only his heart,
And where it was misplaced.
I found it barely beating,
Somewhere near the gutter.
It had been kicked, trampled, and stepped on,
Obviously by his past lover.
So I simply held his close,
And easily gave him mine.

Then he did something he hadn't in a while.
Without him, his heart smiled.
It ignited a fire inside my me.
I wanted to curl up and hide.
Hide the happiness inside.
And past the monuments, and hills my pride shined.

With a slight slump and pulse.
I felt it beat.
Jul 2011 · 498
The familiar burn
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
My head against his chest.
The slow rise and fall of it is my lullaby.
A hand placed lovingly on my head,
Combing through my hair.
I look up at him.
He looks down at me.
Flesh against flesh.
And even if my clothes weren’t
somewhere between the kitchen and the bathroom,
I would still feel completely naked.
His stare freezes me, then entombs me with fire.
It feels good to burn,
At least every once in a while.
Jul 2011 · 4.7k
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I glare from behind these sunglasses.
They seem to be my only protection.
Heat is all around me,
But not just from a warm afternoon in July.
I finally see you and your deception.
Jul 2011 · 933
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I am losing my fight with insanity.
****, it would feel good to just give in.
Just to give in to the voices and thoughts.
But I’m a sore loser
Jul 2011 · 476
A New World.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I watch the notes dance across my eyelids.
At night it engulfs me pulling me into a different world.
A world called forever.
A world full of love and splendor.
My heart beat slows.
My brain stops.
Momentarily, I feel perfection and comfort within this peaceful solitude.
My eyes flash open and I am quickly ****** back into reality.
A place full of coldness, no warmth, no love.
But I escape every night, every night through music.
Jul 2011 · 857
Blue matter.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
Words dance across a blank page.
Words that create lines.
Lines that create stanzas
Attractive to the eye.
Seductive to he mind.
Alluring to the lips,
They pass so freely.
Taking their designated course.
Creeping through your pupils.
Traveling from the frontal,
Pulsating through the temporal,
Stopping at the occipital,
Dissolving slowly.
Until it becomes one with you.
The ink becomes apart of the grey matter.
It is one with you, you are on with it.
Jul 2011 · 11.7k
To The Bestfriend
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
To the bestfriend that loved me.

To the bestfriend from grade school.

To the bestfriend, remember when we car pooled?

To the bestfriend who thought my ***** were cancer.

To the bestfriend, no matter what call she would always answer.

To the bestfriend who lived two lives.

To the bestfriend looking for a boyfriend, and took mine.

To the bestfriend who I forgave so easily.

To my bestfriend, ******* for choosing him over me.

Graphic? I tend to say **** and **** a lot. :( MY life is graphic.
Jul 2011 · 813
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
He walked from the dark side of the moon, and saw the light.

His eyes shined, illuminated, sacred and bright.

From galaxy to galaxy he searched for a place to call home.

He hopped from crater to crater, knowing he would be forever alone.

Until one day a hand reached out, out of the darkness.

She asked him his name, and he simply replied “Moonwalker”

She laughed and wondered who would name their child such a silly name.

She wondered what he was in search of money? power? fame?

His eyes too innocent, and his gaze to pure.

His walk too shaky like an infant, and his laugh too immature.

She warned him warmly, “Its a cold world out there” she pointed to the sphere full of colors “Wrap yourself up like a cacoon”

He smiled and replied. “Good thing I live on the moon”.

She showed him fire, she showed him air, she showed him money.

He asked “Is that all that is there?”

“Is the earth not interesting?” she asked, turned, and stopped.

He smirked “Instead of visit, I would rather watch”

So when the moon is full, it draws closer to us, just pause and stop talking.

You might just hear the laugh and see the eyes of the moonwalker.
Jul 2011 · 395
The Prize
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I sit and look in his eyes.
Its time to claim my prize.
And to my surprise,
Its right between his thighs.
I guess its explicit...
Jul 2011 · 1.2k
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I am the ultimate taboo subject.
They talk about me in hushed whispers.
Google me in the wee hours of the morning.
Hush my name when the elders appear.
Want me.
But can't handle me.
Get drunk from me with no alcohol.
Call me lust.
Jul 2011 · 517
Father Time.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
Forever eternal.
Forever nocturnal.
Sleepless nights while we fight.
I age while you effortlessly stay ripe.
Lips so tender and pink.
Marry me, father time.
Promise me eternity.
Promise me immortality.
Give me forever to love you.
Jul 2011 · 570
I taste the moon.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I taste the moon on nights like this.
The smell of damp grass opens my memories flood gates.
Everything rushes in.
Every soft kiss.
Every rushed fight.
Every unkept argument.
Then the way the moon lit up our bedroom.
We always hated those words didn't we?
Now as the orange-ish glow sets in and
It grows quickly. I think of you.
Your scent.
Your fragrance.
Alluring and entrapping me.
In you, I taste the moon.
Jul 2011 · 449
Just Enough
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I turn my frown upside down.
I show a brilliant smile.
But you always see through it.
My anger and anguish shows through.
You allow me to just be.
That's enough, enough for me.

You can see Atlas in me.
The weight of the world on my shoulder.
Just as I am about to break, you catch me.
You hold me.
You save me.
That's enough, enough for we.

Hands grasp at buttons as
Tongues dance the tarantella.
You stop and stare and I see
Everything and every pressure
I've ever left for you to handle.
I intertwine my hands in yours and take you deep.
That's enough, enough for us.
Jul 2011 · 515
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I watched two bullets smash together and fall to the ground yesterday.
Right in front of my no longer innocent eyes.
They made passionate love right before me.
I sipped my tea slowly.
I was trapped in this war.

I stepped over the dead body.
Then found two more as I turned the corner silently.
They lay away from each other, but hands almost touching.
I ate my sandwich and smirked.
I had become use to this.

I watched as the pipe hit their lips.
I saw their hell-stricken bliss, their temporary escape.
They sat together, ******.
I laughed and walked on.
I wouldn't deal with this anymore.

I sat on the plane and stared at the city.
It was trapped within its own barriers and false realities.
But I couldn't be any longer.
Whereever I got off, I would start over.
And I wouldn't allow myself to be trapped.
Jul 2011 · 485
The Return
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I await the return.

I’ll leave no rock overturned.

I await the phone call from you

and yes I will demand the truth.

I await the day your eyes meet mine

and watch the pain surface like ancient times.

I await the closure.

I await the pain.

I await the exposure

to your love again.

They say if you let it go

and it comes back to you

then it truly is yours.

So why am I still awaiting your return?
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