Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Kyle White Apr 2020
My survival manual
Has accumulated dust
It's worn, and
Badly used
Like combat boots
Or a poorly-folded
Roadmap

My psyche,
Heavy, and encumbered
I need to unpack a few things
And wondered,
If I could grab a beer,
Maybe occupy an ear?
Kyle White Jun 2020
We are different branches on the same Tree
Although, our roots remain unseen
We share the same foliage
Endure the same breeze

Sometimes the sunlight hits me Brilliantly
While you are shrouded in shade
I do not celebrate these fleeting Moments
Because I know, it's just my time of the day

Tomorrow you'll shine
And I'll be in the shadows
In these moments in time, I will not Grieve
Because my love, my kin, my kind,
We are different branches on the same Tree
Kyle White Nov 2016
Why didn't anyone inform me that I would sharpen your knives with my tongue? That I would undress in your shadow. That I would cry on city transit and desire despair above all.

I sit here, in a quiet, quarter-lit room with broken coping mechanisms. Lost in the profound. Writing from the vanguard of violent dreams. I bled the furnace. I lifted the fog. I detailed the temple. Divide my provisions into a seven day schedule and act accordingly.
Kyle White May 2020
I will not submit to the tin foiled intellects
That I collide with on the internet
The *** and the kettle
Are as black as they are bleak
They are everything they claim not to be
Kyle White Oct 2020
Your body language
A distant stranger
Your voice
A faint whisper

Every night
It's a wine tasting tour
From the couch
To the kitchen floor

A world away, I write
You kiss me, and
Remind me to
Turn off the light
Kyle White Sep 2016
I have celebrated my own stupidity for far too long
I will not pin black eyes' and unpaid fines onto my Mother's refrigerator
I will not take my Sister's generosity for granted
I will no longer write poetry
From the confinements of my bed
As you should know no longer,
Exclusively,
Sing in the shower
Sing from the turnpike - Sing from the church top
Sing untethered,
And I,
Will invest in love
One line at a time
Kyle White Apr 2016
Inside of an hour
We hollowed out a bottle
With nervous haste
She;
A shade pinker in the face
******* on her teeth
Eyes as wide as Jupiter's moons
Orbiting the room
Singing of lost love
Longing to be found
Among the evidently lost
With no hesitation, I inhale
A sufficient lungful
Of ash and apprehension
And whisper with confident uncertainty
I think I love you
Kyle White Sep 2013
When you begin to wonder
wonder what it all means
that's when it'll get you down
you can't scratch the surface
of purpose

You stumble in the darkness
fumble for the nearest light switch
or anything
a table leg, a television stand
a tigers paw
anything to remind you
that something is there
flesh it out
dry as a bone or
drunk

Life was
and is
a series of letdowns
false starts, faulty brakes
expired milk, premature *******
flat tires, flat chests, flat soda
the world was flat
for awhile

As soon as you stop and think
about Sun, Moon, and Stars
that's when you realize
you're a matchhead
in forest fire
a drop of **** in the vastness of the ocean
nothing more, nothing less
nothing?

Maybe that's the point of it all
a dash of cosmic modesty
you never saw the ants complaining
or the flowers weep,
for very long

Just get out of bed
and put your t-shirt on
one leg at a time
Kyle White Dec 2015
The exit sign at the end of the florescent hall is no longer illuminated
And I am okay with that.
Kyle White Apr 2020
Some die by their own hand
Through means of rope, pills, or
gunpowder

With a pen and a drink
I choose to live through mine
Kyle White Dec 2012
this poem...
is aptly named
for I have nothing to say anymore
perhaps I never did

I just sigh and scratch my scalp a lot
Kyle White Jan 2017
I am a novice
of ink & love
(an expert at illusion)
Sweep you off of your feet
&
under-the-rug,
leaving behind no contusion
Kyle White Apr 2020
Vices
Break the ice, is
What she said
So a stiff drink, I poured
'I'll try anything that you've tried before'
Kyle White Apr 2020
I used to spend
A considerable amount of time
Editing, revisiting, and revising
Now I just throw it against the wall
To see if it sticks
Like a noodle
Kyle White Dec 2011
Naked, flaccid, wasted...
watching the Sunset
swallowed by a landfill

The machinery has since
fallen asleep
the insects have now
taken back the silence

My mind is bankrupt
I owe
more than I own

The hourglass is a sandbag
with a bayonet tear
leaking grains

My poems are parrots
on the shoulders
of greater influence



*This poem is about drinking in a trailer by a landfill.
Kyle White Jan 2021
I will leave your
Plums in the icebox
However, cold and sweet they may be

I will not borrow a cigarette
Or inhale
What you've released

I will leave that typewriter
Alone, and
All of it's working keys

I will not collect afterthoughts
That you ball up
And discard nightly

I will no longer consume your words
Like cyanide, and
Sun-warmed tea

I will let the worms consume you
So you may
Sleep in peace

— The End —