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Kayla Feb 2015
**** me back together. love me enough to heal these wounds. make love to me as though you could reach infinity in my skin. taste nirvana on my tounge. grab all my broken pieces and fix them one at a time.
  Jan 2015 Kayla
Rapunzoll
Girls like me are so hot
We are the sun burning into oblivion
Causing fires in the sky of your sheets
We're ghosts with beating hearts
Our minds concrete fires,
Wordless books, eroding cliffs.
All the things you started but could never finish.

Girls like me, we're unattainable.
You can only pretend you had us.
If only for a second before we disappear.
Moving like quicksand through your fingers.
Leaving you grasping at the air for nothing.
You'll wonder if your imagination
Struck cruel again.

Our lips won't offer you salvation.
You won't find peace in our bodies.
We kiss with scarred knuckles
We do not love gently, if we love at all.
You can hold us tightly but we won't break
Girls like me are made of marble;
Not even fire can **** us.

Us hurricane girls are the devils delight.
We consume souls with delicate fingers.
Nails red and perfectly manicured to a point.
Our lips plush; the taste of cherry and blood.
We paint our desires on our fingertips
Leaving traces of them on everything we touch
We're disasters but we're oh so beautiful
© copyright
  Nov 2014 Kayla
bcg poetry
I never told my mother about you
I knew it would be ******* her
And even harder on me
So I just never told her

But sometimes I would feel sad
Because something reminded me of you
And I would get up and go to the bathroom
Because I couldn't cry in front of her

She has no idea the hurt I was in
She has no idea the pain I endured
She has no idea what I had so
She has no idea what I lost

But a song will come on
While we are riding in the car
And my eyes start tearing up
And I can't tell her why
And she feels so bad she starts to cry

I've given so many excuses
Allergies, the wind, an eyelash
And even though she doesn't believe me she doesn't pressure
Because she understands the truth must be too painful for her ears
{bcg}
Kayla Nov 2014
Dear angel, I would like to say it was nice to have known you.
I would like to say I could have loved you.
I can't imagine what it would have been like to look at you looking back at me.
But I guess something as beautiful as a rose doesn't deserve to come out of a sidewalk crack like me.
If it was possible to make promises to ghosts then I would promise to do right by you.
Dear angel tell God I'm sorry
  Nov 2014 Kayla
Emily Sliver
When deep breaths won't work
And you're trembling from the fear
Don't you dare shed tears
For those of us who hold our pain in for too long.
Kayla Nov 2014
Im debating on how heavy a soul could get before your self esteem sinks. I've been finding the bottom of bottles more comforting than being in a room full of friends.
I find being alone is much More suffocating and deadly than lying in a coffin.
I find myself staring at stars wondering how things so romanticized spend and eternity alone.
I find mirrors terrifying
I think hand shakes are vice grips in a trap
Hugs are land mines covered with welcome mats
And smiles are razor blades.
And yet nothing can replace the emptiness I harbor in me like a tumor resting carelessly on my heart.
Kayla Jul 2014
I write poetry to forget you. Hoping with every clever word phrase, you'll find your way out of my memory.
I just want you to know, betwixt all these fancy words and captivating images there's a broken girl who sits dangerously at the end of a piece of drift wood as a tornado approaches the shores of a distance beach.
There's a crooked smile singing the praises of some self found confidence that could be bottled and sold in the nearest gag shop.
There's a record player in my chest rotating the same three songs all with the same sad tune of "maybe this time". There's an empty casket going into an unmarked grave for feelings I thought we could share but never quite died.
There's a timid hand shake wrapped in insecurities doused in ambition and remorse for the words and actions that lacked excitement when I took the hand of some fragment that should have replaced you.
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