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Jun 2018 · 362
in for the weekend
mrs kite Jun 2018
think my brain is sun-bleached
i haven't been outside in days
it's just sweat
just sweat
swimming in rivulets
down what's left
of my eyebrows
down what i haven't
pulled out yet

when i hold your hand
it feels like violets
like tasting strawberries
but i only feel it in my mind
it's only there projected on tile floors
on the cash register

if i was out of my head
i wouldn't have to just pretend
i could kiss you
but you're the only good thing
living in there.
Jan 2018 · 274
skipping 9am
mrs kite Jan 2018
tiny boxes hang suspended
rows of lemon moonlight
burning just in your honor
the stale air of the bathroom envelopes you

like a moth in a cocoon
you are pale and shivering
reckoning for space within this empty stall
you kick the door, bored, and rattle the lock
trapped in a silk shell of your own making
ready for release

the sound bounces off dusty ceramic tiles
your anxieties echoing against pastels
it feels like walking on egg shells
it feels like waiting to hatch
and there is a sort of elegance
to this game of waiting it out

the chill of the floor seeps in
you sit in a womb of ice
baby blue and cream and cold
and you won’t feel warm again
until class is over
and you slip slowly
out the door
out the hall and
fly.
Oct 2017 · 541
dead end
mrs kite Oct 2017
the fishtank is whispering to me
i tell it i want to go home
the filter shudders a laugh
i am throwing myself against
concrete barriers to feel
blood gasping for breath but
i drown it in the shower
punishing tender flesh with the faucet  
if this place is supposed to be beautiful
no one told my heart
and I feel the weight of my ugliness
in the pit of my stomach
an egg hatching, shredding insides,
fully deserved.
Jun 2017 · 367
triple oak
mrs kite Jun 2017
there will always be a twin sized bed waiting
for you in your favorite city; i used to fit there

now there is room for only one silhouette
between the thin, striped sheets

if i could i'd cut the dead weight taking up space
peel off my skin to shrink and dwindle down

to sleep in the space between your wall and you
in grey afternoon light like we used to; and

i hope when you sleep solo in your tiny bed
your dreams are sweeter than i could ever be.
Feb 2017 · 834
mortal kepler
mrs kite Feb 2017
I set you on fire     
suddenly

its my fault
your flesh flakes off in
withering embers  
you are

an effigy of a supernova
cartilage between ribs sets off     
like firecrackers

I become the acrid scent of pretend
i am

dissipating smoke and sweat and
 *gone.
Jan 2017 · 425
come home
mrs kite Jan 2017
persephone stayed
as will you
for cyclic faith and loathing

hades reaches out
you have sympathy for the devil
come forth, like a fawn
he snaps your neck

there is no place for
the foolish and docile
take pomegranate seeds of pride
swallow and taste bruises

run back into the road
trust the headlights
they will hit you
they will always hit you.
Dec 2016 · 549
walk the line
mrs kite Dec 2016
my stomach revolts often
and then sometimes not
food is appealing sometimes
but then often not

my heart stops sometimes
pushing sour saliva up my throat
bile pulses through my veins
but not often enough

I shower too much to be sad
sleep sometimes, too often enough
smile a little, but
too often to be anxious

brushing each tooth, carefully
I thought you were supposed to be depressed?
walking the line between too much
never enough
Dec 2016 · 1.2k
emeto
mrs kite Dec 2016
faux leather cracking, mauve in between
soft swoosh and wheels creaking
14 minutes and 38 seconds
your back stiffening, careful not to lean
too far back, in case the couch swallows you

why would you put such a small picture
in such a large frame? a sigh
you can’t run away from your anxiety attacks
you know

I know.

this is nothing like the movies
the bathroom is out of order
and there are barely any notes
on her clipboard
45 minutes and 22 seconds
let me know if the sadness gets worse, alright?

alright.

a child is gagging in the waiting room
you rush out without the copay
but you’ll be back again, soon.
mrs kite Oct 2016
the ideals of chemistry say that
the spaces between particles are
negligible.

the crinkles, vortexes are nothing,
distance between skin and hands,
insignificant.

the matter doesn't matter, yet
i feel the chasms growing wider,
gaping.

we are both naïve
but only i detect our ground
splitting.
title from penguin cafe orchestra piece
Oct 2016 · 464
Rivers
mrs kite Oct 2016
I. Rusted clay envelops milky limbs
    loosened into water like a cauldron of blood
    aqua and maroon, red and blue all at once
    bits of foam clump like white blood cells
    carrying a piece of each person who has stepped on the shores before
    through arteries of cold, velvet cream into the veins of each tree
    for now.

II. The dentist removes his hand from a trap of pearls and pink tongue,
    the shell opens and says it hates fishing, hates the bugs, hates the      noisy birds, hates the muggy water and the sludgy shores
    the dentist smiles and looks at his aquarium
            so bright, so clear, so blue
    each technicolor fish darts around on cue, a rehearsed dance under florescent lights
    a computer monitor glows, the animated river on screen cheerfully murmurs a tune
    a serene spring day in a bottle, in a box, in a crystallized projection of binary numbers
    the shell comments on how beautiful this world can be
    pays, hops in its gleaming SUV,and takes the tar river home.

III. The red cross.
     a plus. positive.
     clear tubes, shiny needles take crimson ribbons of blood
     "it is to help those who cannot find help alone."
      it leaks into plastic bags, on a plane to Africa
    
IV. A child sits on a riverbed, auburn mud
    slowly draining over white bone, more protein than plasma
    his arms and heart are full of new blood
    his water being spit from a paper cup
    bits of food and saliva down the swirly drain
    in a dentist's office near a man made river
Jul 2016 · 711
trying too hard
mrs kite Jul 2016
i wonder if our skin cells are divided into more categories than we think
maybe some are a country and some are skyscrapers and wet city roads glistening with rain and sweat and rat ****
and in our skin's second layer are murals and graffiti tags and ice statues made up of chemical compounds and crystallizations waiting to be exposed

or maybe they're divided between cells you did and did not touch and if they are i hope the ones you ruined decide to secede and fall down the shower drain so i can finally be a new person
again.
Jun 2016 · 757
(the other b word)
mrs kite Jun 2016
They told me I’m a rainbow but
I feel more like the technicolor gas leak
conjoining with the sludge beneath the shiny city streets

I'm not proud that
I wave that flag for everyone
but myself
Jun 2016 · 647
police report 1:42 am
mrs kite Jun 2016
The suspect said the thought bubbled up in her mind
and grew a silver, shimmery shell
It rolled down, pepto bismol freeway
snaking through her brain
It bounced down the neon back roads of her nervous system
She said it took its **** sweet time enjoying the view
It turned to mercury in her veins and slithered its way into her system
The suspect said she never saw it coming
Because “[my] sanity never said we was playing hide n’ seek”
mrs kite May 2016
notice how their clothes are growing, living out new dreams
ready to be a part of something bigger,
no longer attached to dead weight.
watch their skeleton collapse from
neutering their ambitions

ask, "are you okay?"
don't listen for the answer
stare past them at the wall
wonder what's for dinner
teen depression is a myth, anyway.

give a sympathetic smile
"i've been blue before, too."
no worries, they're probably just tired
probably just hungry
probably just bored

tell them to get a good night's sleep
and eat a hearty breakfast
so they don't become one of those poster children,
a beautiful soul "gone too soon"
that'll fix it.
May 2016 · 843
something stupid
mrs kite May 2016
my tongue and brain
must be best friends
they're both completely useless
spongy, yet unforgiving

you can approach me,
and i may approach you
but all of my words will take a swan dive
and commit group suicide
the second you try to speak to me

shine a flashlight in my eye sockets
if you'd like
but my skull is a ghost mall,
empty and vapid

my thoughts are racing but
not in a straight line
they're stuck on a treadmill
with no where to run

you can stare at me in my gaudy clothes
every loud opinion splattered on my skin
but although my sleeves are brimming with careful theories,
there is nothing inside my skull
May 2016 · 578
purple rain
mrs kite May 2016
when you crush a blackberry
violet juice becomes your DNA
gritty underneath fingernails and
ingrained into the grooves of flesh
tiny records spinning over vinyl seeds
a bitter atomic explosion
for one millisecond you are in complete control
the captain of the motherboard
playing god
May 2016 · 638
broken sea(ms)
mrs kite May 2016
to you she's like
a coral reef of vibrant and neon glow

you toured her heart,
took your favorite parts
and made them into bits of jewelry
to wear her as your possession

and now you've found someone better
someone shinier and vibrant
and her membranes fall apart

left her as a greying skeleton
hands outward, reaching
for the lost love
from you.
Apr 2016 · 546
loose means to ends
mrs kite Apr 2016
cut flesh like a wedding cake
heavy porcelain fondant
each rib a slice topped with cherry filling
a body that is no longer mine

open to a glossy woman pg. 6
9 moves your guy will love
tear her in two, each ligament snapped
a body that is no longer hers


the body is a temple and ours
have been decimated, deconstructed
made for human consumption and
delivered to our loyal subscribers
Apr 2016 · 543
please leave a message
mrs kite Apr 2016
like smoke but no cigarette
only the buzz of the radiator fills my mind
a fever dream the color of raw flesh
under parts peeled from cuticles

a haze of memories
soaked in sludgy glue and paper machéd together, a new skull cap

I don't know you -- or I do?
many days I've spent with you but
your eyes are now parts of the ocean
I have not seen

the voice rattles in my chest but
it is not mine -- or is it?
I never know these days

messages I don't remember sending
nothing is real
smiles I don't remember receiving
nothing is real
everything is fine
I'm not going crazy but if I was


I wouldn't remember.
Apr 2016 · 5.9k
day 47 of biology
mrs kite Apr 2016
blood curdles
sour milk in a pale blue carton
pushing out of wiry veins
rotten

.


the vena cava
was never meant to hold
ruined plasma
just like the world was never meant to hold
me.
mrs kite Apr 2016
9 times turning those cellophane pages, looking for a little sliver of comfort in between the lines of "thou shall not's";

8 years old when receiving my first condemnation to hell;

7  nights spent wondering what will happen to my soul while the molecules of my ashes find themselves stuck to the walls of hospitals and picnic benches and gas leaks on gleaming wet streets;

6 times I stared at a kaleidoscope of holy colors and listened to the words tumbling out of the pastor’s mouth like children playing sharks and minnows -- but couldn't hear;

5 times the hymns of love rang out in the steeple, and 5 times that warmth and love was able to seep through the pores of everyone, but me;

4 pairs of hands and faces turned upwards, smiling, like a child running to meet its father in an airport;

3 moments I watched salty tears drip from closed eyes, merciful mouths moving, grateful to be accepted, grateful to be saved, bodies swaying and auroras mixing in a mess of hues;  

2 times I willed the chills of spirits to roll down my spine and fill my mind with the answers I can't seem to find;

1 God I am told to put my trust in;

0 times I believed.
Apr 2016 · 2.2k
pulmonary nebulas
mrs kite Apr 2016
flesh is nothing but a plastic cover
and if you s t r e t c h it far enough
the seams begin to rip, hovering
a guideline instead of a fence

a tongue is nothing but a stretchy strawberry
and if you cut it clean in half
the seeds disperse, swearing
to rearrange the words into normal speech

the brain is nothing but playdough
and if you let it mold
the pink uncoils, forgetting Plato
remembering nothing

the smile is nothing but a bunch of ugly mirrors
and if you rip them out by the roots
the spotlights reverse, it only gets worse
and you stare at your self-destruction for eternity.
Apr 2016 · 480
monopoly
mrs kite Apr 2016
I used to think I was an artist but

I couldn't quite draw the way your lip curled up towards some mocking god
"oh honey, don't you know? artists don't live well"

I used to think I was a philosopher but

My mind couldn't quite wrap around ancient Greek mythology and, anyway
"where you gonna work, the philosophy factory?"

I used to think I was the next president but

I couldn't stand quite still enough to speak in front of the crowds and, "women aren't presidents sweetheart, you should be a teacher"

I used to think I was limitless but

I couldn't quite sprint through that ribbon, at least, not the way they wanted me to.
Mar 2016 · 713
moth balls
mrs kite Mar 2016
rain gushes in like a faucet
floods the basement of my brain
some pours out my eyes
most of it just stays stagnant in my mind
blurs faces in glossy photos
forms pools where mosquitos sleep
and **** the happiness out but
jokes on them because there was none to begin with.
Aug 2015 · 1.3k
gemini
mrs kite Aug 2015
i wish I could be beautifully sad like you
a dark velvet blue
suffocating all who try to get close

maybe my depression is only of
my own fabrication, a desperate attempt
to have something in common
with you.
Aug 2015 · 733
(art)ificial
mrs kite Aug 2015
rehearsed "i love you"s with smiling yellow faces
children playing house, children playing life
a fisher price version of feelings shared in haste

sugar plum words of heart and soul are not what they seem,
evaporating as they hit flesh, never really meaning
what those beautiful people say on the silver screen

and every time we kiss
words are echoing in a cavern of my mind
"is this it?"
Aug 2015 · 630
polaroid
mrs kite Aug 2015
a thousand pinpricks of light
sunbeams dissolved in concentrated words and memories
gaps in teeth and blanks in speech
salty waves and flushed cheeks
your aura is the most beautiful

i've ever seen.
Jun 2015 · 672
gingivitis
mrs kite Jun 2015
It’s that itch in your throat
And the scratching in your brain
The feeling of an idea that has no escape
It stays behind your lips
And sticks to the roof of your mouth
Decays between your teeth
And starts fires under your tongue
It burns your taste buds
And won’t take no for an answer
But it will never see the light of day
Because no one will ever
listen.
May 2015 · 453
2% sucrose
mrs kite May 2015
when you are young
your taste buds are
naïve and
the sweetest thing of all is
destruction.

as you age your tongue
grows wiser but
no matter how sour
revenge tastes now
it has saturated the roof of your mouth
and it stings your gums like
vinegar.
May 2015 · 689
muse in molasses
mrs kite May 2015
Sunburst passions
Put to a pen
The ink comes out
But the creativity stays in

Ideas like fireflies,
Die.
Drowning in the acid of
Reason and
Test scores and
Club minutes and
Alumni money and
The future.

But what good is my future if
I don’t want to be part of it?
mrs kite Mar 2015
This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but
Delicate bones and pearly whites
My essence captured through awkward captions and
My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
A photograph carefully composed
Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight]

This is to the boys who see me as nothing but
Geometric shapes
Circles and curves and parabolas
**** and *** and legs and waist
And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be
My “radical ideas” make me a butterface

This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but
3.97 and a good SAT score
A scholar of great potential
That will donate millions or more
As an honored alumni
Of the greatest institution in the world

This is to society, that sees me as nothing but
A golden gal who always colored inside the lines
Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles

“She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined”
Determined but docile
Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind

This is to myself, because I see that
My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams
Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams  
And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please
You are not my dictator or an office label machine
It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.
Mar 2015 · 1.8k
Cultural Roundhouse
mrs kite Mar 2015
I don’t know which spoon to use
Or where to put my shoes

I don’t know which hand to shake
Or how to drink my soup

I don’t know which cheek to kiss
Or if I need to bow

I don’t which blouse I should be wearing
Or which holy psalm to recite

I have never been able to make small talk
Or make people feel at ease

I don’t even know my biological traditions
How will I ever learn these?
Mar 2015 · 553
ships in bottles
mrs kite Mar 2015
maybe they won't come out because they know it's better on the inside.
Mar 2015 · 424
child's word
mrs kite Mar 2015
If I screamed with all my might,
I may not make it through the night.

My throat would be ripped to shreds
It's possible I might break the bed.

It may not bring much relief,
But my stupid brain would be empty, at least.
Mar 2015 · 720
fishbones
mrs kite Mar 2015
swimming in a fishbowl's all fun and games

'till you're f l o a t i n g in the ocean

alone.
Feb 2015 · 950
saltwater taffy
mrs kite Feb 2015
Memory is like a taffy
my brain stretches it, twists it, squeezes it
Soaks it in vinegar and brine
until I can't remember anything
until I convince myself
I have never been happy
and never will be
Jan 2015 · 891
when we were young,
mrs kite Jan 2015
those
    azure
         tides
     were
     mesmerizing
now
   their
       bonechilling
              waters
             are
    maleficent
and
    when
          someone
     tells us
to leave
     while we
               can
     we run
like
   hell.
Jan 2015 · 1.5k
glitter atoms
mrs kite Jan 2015
her opal veins cut open
the liquid candy foamed
  
eleven winters seasoned
with skin as pure as snow

you may have killed her virtue
but you did not **** her soul.
Jan 2015 · 607
tainted diamonds
mrs kite Jan 2015
you standing next to me is surreal

the stars in your eyes do not bode well with the black holes in mine
Jan 2015 · 881
nice
mrs kite Jan 2015
what a beautifully subjective word

it is nice, to spend your precious time with those who don't deserve it

it is polite, to laugh off their lecherous looks with a swat on the arm

it is obligatory, to pleasure the boy who has taken an interest in you

when did nice become so ominous?

i owe you nothing.
don't bite the hand that heals you.
Jan 2015 · 1.7k
guidance counselor's office
mrs kite Jan 2015
playdoughy, garish, plastic voices

come from the poster

it tells me to 'dare to be different'

i tell the poster to ******* because

sometimes being different ain't all it's cracked up to be
Jan 2015 · 891
how was your day?
mrs kite Jan 2015
i only ask questions

i never get them

because i am the needed,
not the wanted
Jan 2015 · 1.2k
get well soon
mrs kite Jan 2015
the anticipation of pain hurts

more than pain does itself.
Jan 2015 · 450
hurricane
mrs kite Jan 2015
it's funny how people
come into your life

so gradually

yet they can tear it apart
so ******* quickly
Jan 2015 · 701
cumulonimbus
mrs kite Jan 2015
apparently, the floor is magnetic because

i cannot move any closer

and apparently, our eyes are the hot and cold fronts that create the storms
you are so afraid of because

i can't bear to look at you

but apparently, when the lighting electrocutes my heart it doesn't matter
because

you didn't love me anyway
Jan 2015 · 410
all i've got is treble
mrs kite Jan 2015
Bob Marley told us

"When the music hits you, you feel no pain."

I beg to differ
because every love song reminds me of you

And when the music hits me,
I feel suffocation.
Jan 2015 · 646
tinsel
mrs kite Jan 2015
i thought it was over

but thoughts of you are entwined in my heart

and i can't unravel them, no matter how hard i try
****
Jan 2015 · 1.9k
fauna ignoring the flora
mrs kite Jan 2015
it seems like,
everyone is sad
all the time.

maybe we should stop
to smell the roses,
before they're all dead.
Jan 2015 · 854
cassette
mrs kite Jan 2015
you never loved me, but make believe sure is nice
Jan 2015 · 1.1k
wednesday's umbrella
mrs kite Jan 2015
we
we
we
always we
never me
because i'd like to think
we're in this together
wouldn't you?
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