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 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
AM
Isolation
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
AM
I should use a saw
to cut a path
around the spot I stand.
I'll set myself afloat
make my own deserted island
and never reattach myself
to the world
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
ekaj revae
in the trees lies a dream
in the breeze
of a melody.

i wait in the chair
stare off the balcony

rhythm of a
different kin

****** to the floor
a boat. with blues
my toes float,
not to listen,
this is a joke.

sideways death throne
cousins eats scones
floats in methadone --

I can dream in a mumble,
I’m holy in the jungle
but won't jump off

the angry totem scheme,
til the sound goes soft.
i can’t
hear her
scream.

im runnin away
im holdin this canyon
in my hand,

one more tonight

hop over the
fire,

escape
plan
She wants to know me,
Whisper secrets down my throat.
But like so many before..
I don’t see her name, but,
I know everything about her.
I discern her independent thoughts
Her politely rebellious acts of defiance,
How she shops at thrift stores
Wearing old tank-tops to complement her Chanel,
Paints her nails black and her index red.
I know she says this,
but really wants that.
I know what makes her toes curl
I know what she likes
And how she likes it.
I read her like an open book,
Bold font size 45.
She wants to know me,
To explore ourselves together.
But I recognize her from afar,
So how could she ever know me…
i wish i could look past certain things and just be happy. but my artistic eye, the same eye that tells me whether something is tasteful or ney just won't allow me. Won't allow me to appreciate the beauty in each person. Won't allow me to settle.
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
Mikaila
Oh, listen to that thunder.

My bones crave a sound like that

To fill them with rainwater

And make me glow with lightning.

My heartbeat finds the rhythm of the drops.

The tinny sound as they strike the roof,

The deep twang as they hit the puddles

So hard they churn.

It is a tactile experience, like a well said poem,

It touches.

It touches me, and I want it.

I hunger for the rain on a level I don’t understand.

I need it in a way that there’s no word for

Because the senses so often steal the feeling.

But beyond sense,

I love the rain like it’s a part of my mind, my soul,

Like my veins are the little rivers of water

That run down the pavement

Like my eyes are storm clouds

And my lips tender as new grass buffeted by a downpour.

I want to be the storm,

Not to have it, not to own it,

Not even only to experience it,

But to be the same as it

And feel the kind of freedom

That a humming growl of distant thunder must.
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
LDuler
Growl
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
LDuler
Despite my buttoned-up blouses
and combed hair and glasses
I'm a feral creature.
Crouched, stunned, frightened
licking her own
wounds
and struggling to survive,
to learn how to defend herself
out in the jungle.

I'm savage
and I tend to burrow
into the deepest, darkest
caves of myself.

I'm running through the forest,
wild, dazed, confused,
with my slamming heart
my violet animal veins throbbing.

Don't try to tame me,
please, just
get me bandages, I’m bleeding
I'm wounded, I don't know
if I can endure
much longer.
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
Lydia Ann
It seems my consciousness is a collection
Of those who surround me, with careful selection
A bit from him, a piece from her
Not much more
Are they made up from me?
Am I a fragment of their reality?
 Jun 2013 Kyleigh Anne
Deexbee
When i'm sad i pick off my nail polish.
We haven't kissed in 2 weeks,
14 days,
14 different coats of nail polish
My life is a big, awkward mess.
Seriously!
Between first kisses and silent car rides.
From accidental touches to stupid sayings
I have covered all the bases in the game of "uncomfortable moments."
I am a keeper of memories
and my curse will be to forever remember
how I have made a complete fool of myself,
but on the flip side I feel the responsibility
to memorize the world as it is
and the faces I know
and spell them out with words in poems.
But sometimes I don't need words.
I will speak without them
and let my face scream what I am really feeling,
but my hands,
they will tell stories of their own as I reach out to touch your palm.
Some days it is OK to simply exist.
Let life pass for a little bit
and wave like royalty as it goes by.
But do not stay for long.
Keep a pair of wings at the ready
and a packed suitcase by the door just in case
you need to fly to catch up.
Sometimes, life is a heap of bad times.
You cannot always outrun the storms,
but you sure can learn to dance in the rain.
Make life a pile of good things, still a mess,
but with a better chance at happiness.
It's good to sit down and take a big spoonful of perspective
because, trust me, you are going to need it in a world of narrow mindedness.
Stay open to new things, chances, ideas, loves, lessons, and hopes.
Move ahead while always maintaining the
ability to follow that someone who you know can lead you the
right way.
I have come to see that my life is a
big,
wonderful,
awkward mess
and I am in love with every moment of it.
Free. Unrestricted. Unlimited.

The ability to overcome the stares and glares of judgment and see far ahead of and beyond them.

Further than their ignorant minds would ever care to see.

Free like black smoke rising from a stuffy shack on the side of a dirt road.

The freedom that the most free of souls long for.

If Birds were as free they would fly in all directions but the set route of migration.

If paintings were as free they would outgrow the sides of their frames and become their full forms, limbs and smiles included.

If the Nile was as free it would flow like the ocean it looks up to, unshaped by the selfish lips of the forest.

If the Atlantic was as free, waves would wave and remain in mid-air for as long as they wish before hunching their backs to embrace the Inner Sea.

If words were as free, they would reach far beyond the limits of a four cornered space and whisper into the ears of men across oceans.

If you and I were as free, colours would not be afraid to be vibrant. Sound would not be afraid to scream.

If you and I were as free, our arms would always praise the vast Sky. Our teeth would always greet the sun. And  even in the worst of pain, our freedom would allow us to let go of our misery.

If we were as free, beauty would no longer hide within the unbreakable walls of a mere bracket.

If we were as free, borders and bridges that fought for centuries to keep us apart would crumble.

If you and I were as free, establishments would not be established for the good of greed, but rather for the good of man.

If you and I were as free, we would fly like magic. We would take over the nation as a nation.

If you and I were as free, stereotypes and prejudices alike would cease to exist. We would live fully, even through the journey of death.

If you and I were FREE, we would be.
If the world was FREE, we would always be.
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