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Jul 2020 · 156
Confrontation
Kendra Feener Jul 2020
This morning I woke with heavy, heavy eyelids
As if another version of myself had spent the night weeping in my dreams about all of the things that I can't seem to bring myself to face
I tried to put my glasses on, but they didn't seem to fit or work or do whatever it is that they're supposed to do
The world that I view today is foggy and grey and not real
I feel that I may be stuck somewhere else with that other version of me
And we're both still crying and weeping and confused about so, so many things
About everything, really
Still so, so confused
I wish I could let that version of myself free, I wish I could just let her speak instead of speaking for her
I cover up her hurting with uncomfortable chuckles, and bad jokes
Self deprecation, and all of the other countless coping mechanisms I've developed in attempts to drown her out
But her sobs are so loud sometimes
More often that I would like, and much more often recently
Maybe one day I will let her voice yell out
But today I will stay with her, wherever she is that isn't here
And we will weep
With heavy, heavy eyelids
1:55PM, July 14th 2020
Jan 2016 · 406
?
Kendra Feener Jan 2016
?
But at what point does your own heart put its foot down?
At one point does it let out a cry for help in a voice so unrecognizable that it startles you?
When really is enough?
When will we grow tired of having the door left open, for those who come and go, if and when they please?
When will we mop up the muddy foot prints marked on the floors?
When do we replace all the echos that bounce off the walls with something a bit more cozy?
When do we toss the axe and hammer,
Throw it in an old box labeled:
"Stop chipping away at me,
I'm not your piece of art,
You can't sculpt me into what you want."
At what point does your heart refuse to be broken once again?
12:53 AM
Nov 2014 · 487
where am i
Kendra Feener Nov 2014
green coloured cars and
blue coloured eyes
fast beating hearts were just
wasted time


days months years
seconds hours

clocks

heavy head
where thoughts of you knock
directions i don't even comprehend


east west north south
i do
without
Do you ever just wonder where the hell you stand?

1:15AM
November 3rd, 2014.
Oct 2014 · 626
behind the rusted lock
Kendra Feener Oct 2014
I never was one to let people in
I was never one to make people feel welcome
When I met you, it was like placing a key into your open palm
One that fit into an old rusted lock
One that I didn't even know exited

I guess I found parts of myself when I found you
They were never welcoming
I don't have many treasures
Instead,
Cobwebs, because I never feared spiders
And wooden walls that leave splinters in your fingertips when you touch them

Seasons have passed
My thoughts have grown
Things have changed
I guess I've realized I've never really felt at home
I've never really had one
I guess that's why I've never been welcoming

You took your time wiggling the key into place
I guess I'm a patient person
In your presence, I count stars
In your absence, I count stars
They remind me of you
I guess it's because some nights you see them
But some nights you don't

I'd wish for a clear sky every night
But I know better
The clouds need love too
Instead I'll wish for your visits on rainy days

I guess what I've learned with these passed, changing seasons,
Is what lies behind the rusted lock is my home
As beautiful as I feel it is
I guess I can understand why someone would not want to stay
October 19th, 11:59PM
I don't really know who I wrote this about
I guess it's about anybody who I've allowed myself to trust, even the ones who chose to break it.
I guess I wrote this for myself, because I really don't know who will stay.
I guess what I'm saying is that I can be hard to love.
I guess that's ok.
Kendra Feener Sep 2014
From your mind, and your lips, and your hands, and your breath
Vines that wrap themselves in between your ribs find their way through the floor boards
Trying to trip my already clumsy feet, to knock me over, to confine and consume me
To claim me, as if you haven't done that already
With you I recall September evenings, with almost kisses on park benches
Early December mornings, with wet hair and chattering teeth. Walking in minus degree weather if it meant getting to a place where you'd be
April afternoons with aimless driving and conversations about absolutely nothing yet particularly everything all at the same time
I recall sweet July dreams, the mumbling of your name, and how it became the perfect synonym for love for the very first time
Long paragraphs, curious minds, the soft humming of your favorite songs, and how whether it was taming fire or thawing ice; your hands were always the perfect temperature
My mind has been racing for a while and the vines have tied so tightly by now, my heart starts to beat within them
The flower petals laugh
Their pollen dances around me
Their stems find their way to my lips and stitch them shut
Not that I have anything to say
You always leave me speechless anyway
He picked me a flower one day, and it has been haunting me ever since.
This is all over the place, but at the same time, I kinda dig it.

September 13th, 2014
11:27PM
Kendra Feener Mar 2014
there is a sealed cardboard box
labeled "i can't find it in me to get rid of these"
filled with the empty words spoken from his lips
and all the bitter sweet memories that she knows
don't mean a thing to him now
they probably never did
the thought came to me when i was half asleep,
the usual.

March 12th, 2013
2:28 AM
Kendra Feener Feb 2014
I know I'll always remember how it feels to love you
Because I thought of you when I looked at the stars
On their most memorable night
what a vivid soul you must be in order to be compared to something as wonderful as the sky.
February 26th, 2014
12:32AM
Feb 2014 · 370
Three Nights Of Dreaming
Kendra Feener Feb 2014
Last night you came to me in my sleep,
You told me you wanted to try something new.
I told you I could learn to love anything you decided to do.
You held my waist, and kissed me sweetly.
I giggled in your ear.
Drunk and clumsy from your touch,
As always.
You were so beautiful,
As always.
I could of sworn it was real,
But it was just a dream.
And I awoke this morning,
With a feeling of a thousand pounds laying on my chest.
And you were in your own bed,
Somewhere not so far,
But not near to me.

Last night you came to me in my sleep,
I climbed next to you,
And rested my head into your shoulder.
I said,
"I know I was supposed to stop loving you a while ago,"
You sighed against my neck,
"But I never did."
I was too shy to kiss you,
As always.
You were so beautiful,
As always.
I could of sworn it was real,
But it was just a dream.
I awoke this morning,
With the feeling of a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
And you were in your own bed,
Somewhere not so far,
But a life time away.

Last night you came to me in my sleep,
You sat very close to me,
But only for a moment before
You told me you had to go.
I asked you why,
"I need you to chase me now."
The look on my face must have explained my uncertainty.
You said,
"I'm ready for you to come after me."
Frozen with confusion, I watched you walk away.
Getting your head start with a smirk on your face.
I didn't really understand,
As always.
You were so beautiful,
As always.
I could of sworn it was real,
But it was just a dream.
I awoke this morning
With the feeling of a thousand questions screaming in my head.
And you were in your own bed,
Somewhere not so far,
But far enough to make catching up to you
Difficult.
you visit me in my dreams, darling.
and even there, your answers are unclear.

february 25, 12:48am
not really sure how i feel about this, dreams are weird and hard to write out.
Jan 2014 · 2.5k
year flowers.
Kendra Feener Jan 2014
if there is anything that is unfair, it's the way my eyelids twitch restlessly desperate for sleep while my brain refuses to be at peace. and my lack of ability to deal with my feelings in ways other than these nonsense paragraphs, that have an endless amount of errors, that i dare to call poetry. or how i am unrealistic with myself. like when i think that my favorite flowers are the purple pansies i used to plant in my grandmothers garden when i was a little girl. but those flowers wilted and her garden was dug up when her house was sold. those flowers have been making my stomach turn and causing me to choke back tears since the year she died, when i was just thirteen. those flowers remind me of lost things and aches in my heart.
but there are may flowers, which only come once a year. and with them come new beginnings and fresh starts. and every year i wait through the april showers, and they never let me down. they remind me of patience and that good things come in time, and even the greyest of days can lead to something beautiful. they remind me of hope.
if there is anything that is unfair, its your eyes. because your eyes remind me of may flowers, and may flowers remind me of hope, and hope is a four letter word, but so is lies. And hope only comes once a year, and new mind sets only happen in may. but your eyes are there in january, when i'm supposed to still have a four month wait for my hopeful new start. and in september, when my new start isn't so new anymore. your eyes are like may flowers that never die, and  may flowers that never die remind me of hope that never dies.... and hope is a four letter word. and so is lies. and so is hurt.
but so is love.
and maybe i'm being unrealistic with myself again, but that's the word i'm going to go with. because love reminds me of better days and better days remind me of you. because days are always better with may flowers and your may flowers never die.
jumbled thoughts.
January 29th, 2014.

— The End —