the June air feels so good against my skin
I'm smoking and I shouldn't
that feels good too
I'm thinking about him and I shouldn't
that feels melancholy
like a Sunday night
pathetic
like a long drag on my cigarette
hidden in the shadowed light
I want but it's wrong
like picking the scab on my leg
it feels visceral and rewarding
until it hurts
dried blood on my sheets
I know he's sleeping in his
soundly
no thoughts
but I'm there
like a shadow
following his movement
go home and sleep, silly girl
yes, but kissing him feels like catching up

there are two people in my psyche
a passionate girl
who loves to explore, create, discover
and wants to open herself up to others
and a paranoid, stubborn, confused child
who tugs at the girl's hair
and reminds her of what to fear.

Today as I look upon the hues in the sky
like pinwheel art
flaring and burning out
slowly softer,
such a perfect light
complementary to all
it caresses
I am saddened
as I realize
my most treasured time of day
is the one closest to its end
forcing me to notice
how little time I have left
with its beauty
till the night comes

there is something wistful
about the way the cars move along
and the way I am watching them
with such diligence
from my aloof window
even up here in my leather seat
i feel a connection to their humanity
the urgency in which they scamper
through the streets and the
sunlight
so comforting in its afternoon glow
that it makes me melancholy
because as it has reached its peak
and will soon be gone.

isn't it funny the way we assume?
that this honey veil will be draped once again?
anticipating the glint of another windshield
as if it is written down in Time's script?

there is something sad
about the way we presume connection
with one another and with nature
the way we reflect ourselves
our existence
onto the tiny people laughing in the parking lot
and the trees that speak no tongue at all
only the language of perpetual existence
that we try desperately to decipher
with our limiting words

while i'm sitting here in the dark
with my feet propped up
and my body warm
i should be content
but i can't get this sensation to go away
it doesn't seem to have a name
that i can recall
my storage of words is limited
to 11th grade vocabulary
and what i've read in books
if i were to try and explain
i guess i would say that it feels like
there is a vertebra missing from my spine
i can still stand and walk around,
but when i do the world seems to tilt slightly
all of the bookshelves in my mind
have slid to the opposite wall
the cabinets have burst open
and things are falling out
clattering on the hardwood floor
i know i should have a smile on my face
but all i can think is:
why
why not
how

I'm the mistress of emotion
I try to avoid his eye during the day
pretending I've never seen him before
but the truth is I'm at his every beck and call.
Just you wait and see,
I promise you he'll appear in the doorway
flashing his enticing smile
just when I'm trying to fall asleep.

I have a crush on love
but we've never met me before
I watch him from afar in the schoolyard
yet I've never made a move
I need to stop worrying and waiting
for him to introduce himself.

I'm the assistant of suppression
I help him with his careful work
I fold all of my fears and pains
and make them fit into tiny boxes
so they can be stored away on a basement shelf
and someday found again to open with surprise
forcing me to finally deal with everything inside.

-kk

between lovers
a soft reminder
like a cypher
behind closed doors we become one
humans are poets by nature
a metaphor on our lips that lingers
we have nothing else to share
except our minds and our bodies
and to give both is our greatest offering

Dear beautiful one,
Please stop hurting me. Because I am you.

Love,
young girl

sometimes
i look out at the velvet sky at night and i wish i were the moon,
when she is out no one can compare to her luminous beauty,
she is the fairest one,
and yet,
she always manages to stay modest in her delicate black veil,
perfectly draped,
around her silhouette.

sometimes
i stand out in the exposed bright of day and i wish i were the sun,
without her the world would be a cold and lifeless place,
she is the reason for countless beaming smiles,
and yet,
she can burn their gentle skin with a single impassioned glare,
blazing with power,
and perfect precision.

but sometimes,
on occasion, i look into the mirror,
and i can see the shimmering specks in my eyes,
and the light streaming from my hair and eyelashes,
and i realize,
that wishing for the sun and moon is pointless,
when i can be the stars.

-kk

today, on valentine's day
i'm glad i'm back home
because otherwise
i'd probably run into you
in the hallway
or as i'm walking out the door
and you'd pretend you don't notice me
as you lately always do
that
or i'd just be alone in my room
lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling
thinking about how we both live in the same building
and both want each other
but nothing's going to happen.
it's utterly pathetic
and seems to be a common trend for my love life in college
so far.
i'm just ******* because i know this is cliche
but we are so compatible
and i think your hair and laugh and scrunchy smile are adorable
(and those dumb red high tops you always wear that oddly attract me to you more)
and i'm annoyed
that you threw it all away because of your nerves
and honestly who the hell knows
what is it about me that always scares people away?
just one of many questions i am left to ponder
alone in my bed.

in my dream
you told me you love me
But the words came out
of another mouth
I haven’t seen your face
in two years
but in my mind’s eye it shone out
like a sand dollar brushed with sun
your eyes were always slips of blue water
not shallow
but a misperceived depth
I fell in long ago
Sipped as I swam
thought I found my way
but I’m back
at the edge
not willingly
but I’ll dip my toe in

you make me want
to smash my head
through the mirror

he doesn't text me
and I think
it's my arms
chicken cutlets
that need the fat trimmed off
maybe it's the way my belly rolls
when he's holding my legs up
even in his lust
he must see
my flaws
can he worship a woman
that's beautiful and round?
the figures on his screens
tall, tight, trimmed, and small
in the bedroom night
shadows purse together
like lips
mouthing no on his wall
but it's me
I'm the woman
bullying myself all along

I put my thoughts in his mind
and place my words in his mouth.

i know i'm not supposed to want you
but i do
if only i had been there sooner
maybe you
would want me too
because most high school love
is circumstantial
and i don't think
she's any better

-kk

i was borne of one heart
two sides, but cor unum
i was blessed with a sweet pairing before me
a gentle winds at my birth whispering
go forth and take us with you
my breaths are an ode
and my fears reflect an earthly greatness
a mountain range behind and before me
do not forget the love that made you..
so vast
while i, an open crater
must drink to fill parched canyons
that echo my name


i cannot wait for rain

i try to cry but the tears don't run
i try to feel but the sensations don't come
i am numb.
(but i know the pain is there)
-kk

i've never been
the kind of person
that others feel the need to impress
and go after
i'm not unwanted but i feel slightly less desirable
than the rest
it seems that being attainable is unattractive
i guess they assume i'll always be there
or that im not beneficial to their cause enough
i wonder what it is about me
that makes people less inclined
to text me first
or come running to me with gossip
i would consider myself an average listener
maybe even a pretty good one
i wonder what i'm missing
still, i don't think i'll ever stop seeking and listening
myself
is that my downfall? maybe so

the moments kiss you so quickly
you regret your promiscuity
while also questioning it's existence

i laughed when you looked at me
averting my eyes
i turn to laughter when i am shy
it is my shield
i have yet to find my sword
even in my dreams i do not have the courage
and even in my dreams
you are but a figure of beauty
out of my reach

everyone can be beautiful
and is
because beauty is simply
striking, passionate, energy
energy can neither be created
nor destroyed
that is what they taught me
in middle school science class
bodies are constant conductors of energy
it is what we are made of
and i can see it radiating from your presence
when you do the things you love,
when you open your mind with bright awareness
and listen to the world with your soul
that is beauty
so don't you ever stop

-kk

I used to write joyful poems,
pointing out simple wonders,
such as how raindrops glisten on a mushroom’s ruby top.
But now the mushroom is only a dullish gray to me;
Everything is wrong.
My feet are cold and numb;
they have nowhere to walk.
My fingers are limp and uninspired;
they have nothing to type.
Outside my door are the sounds of people losing hope and patience;
they keep me inside.
As does the white fog of uncertainty I can’t seem to look past.

-kk

when they write about ******* they don't write about mine
when I read the word "*******"
I see mystical plump teardrops
kisses from the gods
tiny pink *******
perfect for putting your mouth on
mine hang as I write
slouched braless over my keyboard
dark round
odd things
too big in all the wrong ways
but alas
they are still ******* after all

now i don't even try
and say hi
if theres a person i don't know in the room
such a drastic difference
from how i was a few months ago
i hate this
i have so much anger
but i feel so dry and i don't have the energy to express it
i think my eyes are just welling from tiredness
**** this **** hole that i used to love so much
my room feels like a pig pen
and my sheets don't feel clean even when i wash them
people irritate me beyond words sometimes
but mostly im so mad at myself
for being so content with laziness, cowardice
everything moves so slowly
and i get dragged along each day
im scraped up like my knees
**** i need a band aid

run your hand across my back
it feels rough I know
I've lived longer in my mind
than can be measured in years
still my body takes a toll

I try to smile when I see you at the end of the hall
but moving those neglected muscles
makes me shiver round my bones

take me down to that river near the cemetery
throw pebbles at my heart
and laugh with those sadistic eyes
how beautiful they are
I could never forget...

when I inevitably give in
reach back for your hand
and wrap your fingers in mine
you must know
I'm accepting flowers from the devil
baby

the devil never lets go of his hold

i will never again wrap my arms around you
in the same way that i will never again
wrap my mind around the idea that i was not enough for you.
i am enough and i will always be enough.
i am all that i have
At the end of the day when the sun is not there
to give my thoughts and surroundings a warm glow
and there are no voices or bodies around but my own
all that i have and all that matters
is what exists behind my eyelids
it is there that i grow and turn darkness into my canvas
for raising light, love, and potential
while my body slowly ages.
i am enough
or else you did not see me.

i am a collection of what people want me to be
of what i assume people want me to be
of what i hope people want me to be
acquired meticulously over time
and pressed out in my words and on my skin
like spread sheet data.

Her eyes shiver with delight
green light flooding her lovely body
an arrangement of fluttering notes
laughter paralyzingly genuine always upon her lips
only passionate bright things in her face
her presence twinkles in the minds around her
This is how he sees her
always
a glimpse around every corner
at every “little party”
through the champagne haze and loud primary colors
her figure only grows more vivid with the night,
drawing him closer, his hand outstretched to the past.
Not even the grandest of golden gestures
nor any number of diamond faced companions
could make his world completely distracted.

She is no beautiful little fool.

this world tells us to go to the bedroom
but i want to follow you to the park
i cannot see your face ahead of me
but your eyes are my two round worlds
and i know they are sparkling
you reach back for my hand
and pull me into you
sharing warmth between clothes
and as the sun kisses us goodbye
our lips take its place

i think you wanted the same things as me

i am learning to accept
that some people will never be
who i want or need them to be

when i close my eyes
i go to places i've been to
maybe not
i decorate memories
in short breaths
i see neighborhoods
i see miles of desert
driving through dilated sunsets
i see the light hanging
kissing me through the window
warm sun caresses my body
while i'm laying in silken sheets
and then familiar sounds of summer
the intense feeling of being home
when i was young and nothing mattered
my thoughts and talks from those days are gone
but i'm left with the sensation
everything could've been a dream
im drifting now
i'm a child at the airport
the excitement of whats to come
fills my lungs
i need that now
i need to be young
i am young
let me fly

the stars are out and
everyone is in love
but i am alone

-kk

At the dinner party, she is there
and he has to take extra care
to focus his eyes on his fiancee
he has to use all the strength he can conger up
just to keep those eyes
on the fabric of her dress,
distract himself with the the details
the stitching on her sweater
Because his entire being is begging his eyes
to shift a little to the right
and look onto the woman with the huge smile
and chandelier eyes
he wants to watch the movement
of her beautiful milk chocolate hair
and listen to her laugh
oh how he loves her laugh
the way her eyes scrunch up
and her cheeks blush
the sound is so satisfying there are no words
when he hears her laugh at his bad jokes
she makes him feel like he is worth something
she listens to him when no one else will
she is his little angel
but no one can ever know
**** it, his eyes are transfixed on her again...

We have different views.
In you I see my dreams
while you dream of another.

-kk

The boy asked, "How do you write a poem?"
and the teacher was perplexed 
How can I explain? I don't know!
She tried to respond in an eloquent fashion
"Pretend that your pen is a cup and pour into it your soul
but only let it out in tiny, undiluted drops.
The boy did not understand so he questioned her once more
She thought
"Make believe that the page is a baby's rosey cheek
and kiss it softly with only the most delicately chosen words."
Confusion continued to cloud the young boy
So she decided to give it one final try:
"You are a summer garden plot, a poem a flower bud
find an open space to plant a seed of thought
bury it in the soil naked and undeveloped
and give it your utmost care and contemplation
along with water and sunlight in preferential doses.
After a time a poem may begin to sprout
but it can often take longer than you expect
do not assume the poem to pop right up
and there are no guarantees
about what will result in the end
that seed may grow into an exotic rose
or an unforeseen dandelion
you never know how the sun will shift
or the how the wind will shape the land."

The boy thanked the teacher thinking he understood
and hurriedly outside he ran
straight to the wooden gardening shed
and grabbed his shovel, gloves and watering can.

today i became aware
of the reason why
i have to try with much effort
not to glance his way constantly.
Oh how i love his mouth and the way it moves,
not just his lips,
but the utterly adorable way
that the corners of his mouth
slide ever so slightly upward
while he sings into my soul

-kk

today (i) awoke in love with the world
and i finally realized the truth
that i (am) a wonderful person
i am in control of (my) happiness
i am worth more than words can say
i am not my body but it is (beautiful)
i am not my mistakes and imperfections
i am more than allowed to love my(self)
i am not always right about how they see me
i am as strong as (i) let myself be
i (am) intelligent
i am creative
i am (a)n original
i am loved and lovable
i am not alone
i am the poet of my life (poem)
and i can write it the way i want it to be.

-kk

i have reached the point of sadness
it has become part of me
and it is so deeply woven
and i am so drenched
it has seeped into crevices of me no one has ever seen
i have reached the point of sadness
i have been silent long enough
alone in my body
that it is feeble to turn it into words
and feed them to someone else
it has transcended words
it is me and always has been
i have always been a fearful sadness
at this moment i have run out of covers
that is why i am alone
underground
in my car
writing this poem with red eyes
but no tears

i listen to tragic songs
not because i want to be sad
or disappear further in my shadow
but because they speak to me
bring clarity to the things i feel
and explain what i cannot say
out loud

you know
youknow
you know
YOU KNOW
you know.
do you?
know you
wonk uoy
wkno ouy
wky oyu
why you?

-kk

then I am the paper.
Scissors were made
to cut through me,
and we all know that
paper doesn't actually
have anything on a rock.

dim
one small lamp
listening to dreams by fleetwood mac
instead
i let the music sprinkle light in my head
rays enter me like a transparent lens
my feet are moving but i didn't ask them
the rhythm has control of my muscles,
singing limbs
i'm an accepting hostage
strumming on the guitar
behind my eyelids
i could slide through life like this for years

my eyes hurt all the time
like i've just been crying
i think i'm just tired
its hard to focus on what anyone is saying
nothing is satisfying me
what am i working towards?

i can't do anything except
listen to music and stare
at nothing

the things i used to be good at
are no longer my talents it seems
i've let things slip away
i mean look at this poem!
it's a ****** mess
no effort put into it
but you see i just can't right now
i'm all strung out
i don't really feel anything

for myself it seems as though
as the days increase in number
my love for them decreases so

-kk

The depths of my mind seem so distant
from the thoughts that sit on the surface
as real and solid as concrete
until I chisel them out,
and divide them in conversation.
I want to invite someone
into the crypt
but for now music is my
confidential lover
the only one with the key
it knows exactly what to say
I wish I could speak back
so I sing.
But sometimes that is not enough
I want to share the music with someone else
I need someone who will listen with me
please.
Oh, how I hope that you understand my lyrics.

-kk

Why must all of my
outstanding inspirations
come at 2AM?

-kk

I’m a fool
the way
I dreamt of us laying in bed
brushing my fingers down his arm
and him
cupping my chin
kissing me densely
a firm desire
I wouldn’t know it
so how did I dream it ?
I felt the sweet delight
of bodies meeting finally
and his breath so soft on my *******
I want it in my lungs...

When the yearning is heavy on your shoulders
you don’t have to think about where to go
When it happens I think I’ll know

Take my thoughts away...

I lie awake at 3:00 AM.
During the day,
I had to force myself to keep moving
so that I wouldn't fall asleep
but now the night has brought my mind to life
and I am struck with thoughts
behind my eyelids
that emulate the black shadows
caressing my closet

i hear the burst of song
euphoria i cannot say
music is in my soul
can't you see it gushing out
of my every exhale
the beauty melts oblivion
fear of the endless and unknown
i know bliss is this
i am not alone
i am good
my heart beat is a rhythm
i survive on music
what more can i convey

-kk

I want to go to a record store with you
we can spend the little money we have left
on The Smiths, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd
for an hour or two we can be angsty teens in the 80s
who drink cheap beer and steal our parents cars
lets pretend were running away
from home, from school, from everything we know
I wanna lay on the floor of your apartment
put a record on the turntable and hear that sweet crackle
we'll listen to what we've bought
and pretend we're watching the stars through the ceiling
they'll dance to the beat like a laser show in our eyes
while mind blowing guitar riffs and drum beats fill our spirits

-kk