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 Jun 2018 mrs kite
mk
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
the love inside me is bubbling
it is rage on a californian summer day
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
she is holding his hand
and he is touching her cheeks
he is tall and fair and quiet
he is what you were not
he is not you
but my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
i want to tell her to run from love
because it ends up in pain
i want her to teach me how to
fall in love again
i want her to tell me
how it felt when they first kissed
i want to know if it felt as mystical
as magical
as terrifying as us
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
because everytime i see them
i think of you and me
dark and so much taller than me
speaking in tongues all native to me
silences that spoke more than words
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
they have gotten what i have not
they are living what i will not
the death of us is the beginning of them
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
this life is beautiful
but without you, thats hard to see.
 Nov 2017 mrs kite
flustered
WHEN
 Nov 2017 mrs kite
flustered
for months,
not a single sentence have i written about you
but not writing about you
and not thinking about you
are two different things
it's hard for me to view death as a verb
but recently the idea of it has been more present
to the point of every night when i close my eyes
i dream of the death of someone else
a stranger
with a face that i only know in their last five seconds of living
haunting me day by day
pray that i never see their face
my dreams are not reality
but the line between the two is blurred
so every night when i close my eyes
that's the exact time that death becomes a verb
ive recently tried not being afraid
so every night ive been sleeping with my closet door wide open
hoping that there actually is a monster in my closet
and now with no imaginary barrier to stop it
wishing it to creep up on me
when my eyes are closed
and im vulnerable
and have it be just the monster and me
but ill be half awake
just like always when i sleep
so once i open my eyes to look where the monster once stood
where the monster once stood the monster no longer seems to be
so ill close my eyes again
and brave another night of closet open
in hopes one day ill open my eyes and see
the monster to which i seek
the other night there was a fire across the street from where i live
it was big
it was bright
it was in running distance
i know that because some of my friends went running towards it
when they saw the flames
we stood in a clump
my jaw was to the ground
it seemed as if my whole city was burning down
and that scared me

by the time i got there it was mostly smoke
some of my friends were cracking jokes
and even though there were no casualties
that still seems rather inappropriate
because people could've been hurt
people could have died
but then again these are my friends
who joke about wanting to take their life half the time
like oh ******* kay
i understand that people deal with things differently
but jokes like that hardly seem appropriate
when we've got our ******* city burning down in front of us
and you want to sing Billy Joel's "We didn't start the fire"
its not funny
you're not funny
just ******* stop

and the fire burns within me
going up
up
up
up
up
until the firemen come and cool me down
and i look at the destruction that surrounds me
and i can only utter one word
******
i took a hiatus writing sad things
because i thought that'd make me happy
but now im writing sad things again
in hopes that ill be sad
of course
i do not want to be sad
id much rather be happy
but sad people get it
and happy people do not

when i started feeling happy people liked me less
i guess my smile seemed condescending
they were all going to counseling
when i felt like i didnt need it
its like we were trading places for a month
i hated being around them
because i always thought my happiness made them angry at me
like it was more of them who hated being around me
rather than me around them

so im choosing to be sad
so that people will like me
its ironic
but its honest
i mean it
people smile more when im not smiling
and if that doesnt say something
well i dont know what does
im not sure if i need validation
or if i need some form of saving
because ive been saving up breaths these last few years
just incase im not ready to die
i hate it when i tell people im depressed
or suicidal
and them telling me
"well then how can you possibly be afraid of death"
as if the two can't exist in the same world
so no i don't approach death with open arms
like teens around the world are used to saying as a joke
I cower from it
I dont do things that could break me
I dont eat things that could make me choke
because it scares the **** out of me
i don't know where im going
or if theres even a place to go

and what frightens me is the how inevitable it is
of what will happen
when my eyes close
and decide never to open again
im scared
but honestly what else is new
ill bite my lip
hard
i hate the taste of blood
but suddenly i need it
i need to feel it
on my tongue
down my throat
in my neck
red
like the sea that moses split
in the stories i used to believe and read as a child
but i dont read too much anymore
its a shame really
i could be so smart
wasted potential
i could be so **** smart
wasted space
I could be SO **** SMART
wasted air
I COULD BE SO ******* SMART
WASTED


and as i look back i see a shadow of who i once was
and a shadow of who i could be
and both of those shadows
both of those shadows
are much more beautiful than me
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