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442 · Nov 2013
this hell.
Kyla Mae Pliskie Nov 2013
Flesh eating virus, succumbed to all advances

Managed to influence my last white blood cell

Followed, every inch, we followed

You

Into that back room.

Deteriorating slowly

Every time those fingertips meet

These layers of skin

I am half of half of what I used to be.

It burns while it stimulates

My screams are confused

I can blanket this apartment

With the secretion of this chaos

Maybe we can learn to swim.

Maybe If we’d learn,

We’d quit.

You are the hell I’m living in.
412 · Jun 2014
Human.
Kyla Mae Pliskie Jun 2014
Learning to be human; I raise my glass to bitter silhouettes. A vibrant mess of tragedy and lethargy crashing between these ***** sheets. Grasp the hands that hold you back. Replace the voices that stung your fleshly establishment and disintegrate the surrounding atmosphere. we're stuck. we're terrified. We have lifted our arms and pitch to an honorable level, otherwise disheveled and  destroyed. CAN YOU HEAR THROUGH THE NOISE? The static fills the empty spaces. I am balancing on curbs, and i am curbing my appetite for disturbance. Your eyes are what i am most afraid of. Vacant, excessive....slicing me in to fragments of extinction. Bring to life the fallen leaves -- perceive the landscape for nothing more than what it is. I could tell you i'm fixed. I could fabricate these lonely narratives. Look into your face and plunge the knife slow. Reciprocate the venom I've been injecting. Infectious allegations to promote your narrowed estate of mind. I examined it completely...A to Z. I am fixated on the entrapment you've designed especially for me. Note the elegance and fallen tipsy. I've resigned from my superior complex -- now to mismatch with your faults. We were born on these broken bridges worth burning. Side effects can be exaggerated, and usually are to your liking. Fighting for the sake of argument, for the sake of sound. thunder crashes within my skull -- reverberating against my eyelids while i pretend to sleep. A lounging corpse. I'll trade a minute for yours...they appear shinier. Tasty. Grinding my teeth against your car keys; i keep them sharp. i sharpen my vision when  i feel you enter the room. A double dose. A wounded chapter in this twisted novel. my fingers move when I tell them to. I am my own puppet. I reenact plays that have no meaning, avoiding the secrets. avoiding suspicion. I'm learning to be human.  i can feel the planet shifting.
380 · Apr 2014
ghost.
Kyla Mae Pliskie Apr 2014
Blank stares have embezzled every ounce of elation I’ve contained, through rigid terrain, I attempt to look up. The mirror echoes my mistakes and I can’t recognize myself through pupil size and bolder vessels. Just tell me it will be okay. I’ve driven my lessons out of open ended sentences and pushed myself to the depths of this ashtray. Where’s the separation? Charges keep adding to the receipt still stapled to my side and I’m opening wounds I’ve wrought hard to sew shut. You can’t teach the ignorant, and the ignorance trumps rationality. Formalities in my fraudulent appearance. I can’t scream it. You can’t hear it. I am simply alone, and this tower is crumbling slow. This is what I chose, as if that makes it any better. Stormy weather can **** and this hurricane has me lifted, if I plummet, will I care? Will I even blink when I shatter. Just a pitiful creature contorted on the concrete with secrets left to die in the wind. I’m screaming at her to wake up, to force some insight through fuzzed up brain cells and alarm bells, but it’s lingering in the air like secondhand smoke. Only those around her are left to choke on its’ tragedy. She’s eating me alive and I can feel my body parts deteriorating leaving ghostly images to haunt my already afflicted eyes. If I stare at the sun, maybe I can catch a part of it. If I break myself, I can break her too. These ruins are the apartment where I have really been residing and time is only making it worse. Feed me my own soul, I need to breathe. LET ME GO.
380 · Nov 2014
Empty.
Kyla Mae Pliskie Nov 2014
I walk through the streets, my legs they shake
Consumed by fear can't rest in place
Longing for a little taste, my wires bend
And break
What the **** is wrong with me?
You ask but I don't have the answer
Wrapped tightly beneath this blank
Disaster
My hair in knots I use to stand
But I can't stand this any more.
What will it take to balance the brightness
What can I do to relieve the crisis
My skin is torn, my voice is gone
I'm tired of being the leading actress
Beat me down and I'm still here but all I hear
Is the static in my head
You wanted the best kind of revenge
Well here you go, upon a platter
Sad part is it doesn't even matter
The world could shatter, and still I'd feel

Nothing at all.
344 · Feb 2014
Silence Lies in the Blades
Kyla Mae Pliskie Feb 2014
Racing around picture frames; returns and echoed reflections. If I had a dollar for every mistake I repeated, this wealth would engulf my being. I say these words without a sound. Circling my skull and crashing against disappointments I’ve been holding, if only I’d let them crawl out of my mouth. Fingers tremble against cold concrete. I hold my face there. I stare into the lines, the cracks, the semi-permanence. Blades of grass shooting up from beneath. Internally screaming to be seen. My eyes won’t divert and for once I don’t feel so alone.
203 · Feb 2021
ballad of an anxious brain
Kyla Mae Pliskie Feb 2021
Take a step, step back
The view is wilted,
distorts the sound waves
To shake
That echo from my fingertips
I grip tight to anything tangible
I can’t let go, I’m terrified
My balance will knock me
         Off this shelf, I’ve felt
Too much, too fast, to breathe
Deep, it gets caught
In between
My nerves, overworked
Climb up my spine
Head spin, I’m drowning
In racing thoughts
No signals or stop signs
They collide and intersect
No safe bet, I get lost
Space, space out
I need space to get out
This anarchy inside of me
Tearing synapses, replace them
With calluses
Overwhelmed and underfed
My head revolves around the moon.
So small and tangled
I don’t think I will ever break free
These handcuffs are cold
And tight
And taunting
This spin I’m in// I’m over it
My balance has got the best of me.
166 · Aug 2020
Chains
Kyla Mae Pliskie Aug 2020
I will never know what it’s like to fly
I was born with broken wings.
The clouds hover above
And mock me with their weightlessness.
I’d give anything to feel anything
Again.
These chains cut into my calloused skin
The pain is comforting  
Fills my lungs
with resentment and smoke
I choke on your narcissism
Instead
The freckles in your iris
Arrange themselves
Aimless and aiming to break free
As if distance equals escape
The water covers every inch of my flesh
I can’t drown it out
And I can’t float
I don’t belong
Anywhere.
Kyla Mae Pliskie Jul 2020
The breeze screams my name
Shame persists, I’m all of it
Sickened and bitter
Broken//
Artificial
Dig deep, fractured glass
Dissect and scavenge
I found a way back.
The clocks been broken,
But it won’t stop spinning
I’m suffocating underneath your weight.
The silence rings
Brings out the catastrophe
        Howls in my head
Exhausted, restless
I can’t seem to leave.
Feed me white noise
                 & sedatives
I just want to forget.
                        Set my soul to sea
I haven’t yet felt freedom
I was born with  broken wings.
Blank faces have chewed
On my hardened flesh
I have nothing left
But the salt around me.


I long for that darkness.

— The End —