As though
her insecurities
consumed
her entirely,
he understood
that a woman
like her
were those rare
women
whom men
only came across
once in a lifetime.
He understood
the way
a woman like her
should be
wooed,
held,
loved,
seen,
and touched.
She being his weakness
and he her strength-
they could understand
one another
without having to say
anything
to each other.
A simple glare
from either one
spoke a million truths.
How, when they held
one another,
became two souls
as one.
Enamored in their
fidelity
towards each other
and how mutual
their simplicity
drawn them together.

a winter visit is
blood to us,
collected in our thumbs, pressed together, always
distracted by
effectively knowing that which is true:
feral will never make do.
going to the space needle,
her mouth was a cowry shell that i saw in the water
in my fingers i heard the snapping of twigs
just that prickly little feeling saying
“kenna, watch the corners of her mouth”
lovely in the passenger seat
my hand quaking
ninety miles to go
oregon behind,
peppering the corridor with firs
quietly i sang watery songs
“run river run,”  “golden vanity,”
she slept with the stars sitting on her hair
then seattle waited
underneath her black dress
(velvet, from her mother)
wondering where will we stay-
she woke up. from the sky fell
zebra orchids, already dying

Back again, back again,
From what I used to be;
For all the things I made myself
To please you, you could not see.

I tried to paint the stars for you;
I tried to do it all.
But everything I did for you
In your eyes made me fall.

So today will be the last day
That I for you adorn.
Give me peace, and let me rest;
I watch for coming morn.

Let rivers wash and waters flow
And carry back to shore
Thus from you I'll send away
To find my home once more.

(c) 2018 Indigo Kenna

I don't want this written in words. Maybe if it's just in my head, it'll make it less worse.
Feels as if I'm going to burst
Head won't be silent
Thoughts turning violent
Trying not to care
Only been a few years
Tears  still build up here, but put up a shield; one big force field.
No way to reel you in, feeling abandoned up to the brim.

I got into your depth, now all I sense is death. Need a cure before my vision is blurred.  



Posted by Kenna Marie ...
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Pain is not skin deep.
Self-hate is not skin deep.
Depression is not skin deep.
Struggling to hold on to what you know is True
Is not skin deep.
Nothing I feel is skin deep,
Except sometimes affection,
And sometimes hope.

(c) 2016 Indigo Kenna

Give me an idea of how many stars there are,
And I will tell you the color of your eyes;
For the celestial bodies are innumerable,
And your eyes too much to name a shade.

(c) 2016 Indigo Kenna

by Kenna Marie*

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Yet, people smolder every meaning of the word beauty.
Taking procedures in order to obtain this image of perfection, but it is right built inside of you. Believe it or not, whatever you need you got!
Reading this now with your eyes, heart beating to the sound of survival.

Educating yourself on how to accomplish revival because you are dead.
The laughter comes in sequences syncing perfectly to those begging for attention.
Revolt revolt!
Build a catapult to launch yourself away from here.

Lose yourself in all the sincere.
Perform a test to see if you're the best.
“You are defeat compared to the rest!”
Start to dress to impress when the isn’t up to par.
Spend days alone at empty bars.

“Dare to make a move!”
“It won’t improve you.”
“You got nothing to lose!”
“Yeah, well how about your skeleton starting a rebellion. You’re yelling, starting to tell your children the beginnings of this addiction.”

It swallows you whole, your body is totaled.
Now, you’re in the rusting pile of traveled miles of rot...
Forgetting what you are and what you’re not.

you said
you were upset
when you thought i was breaking up with you

i don't understand
because
i thought you didn't love me anymore

and
i don't know
if you were just done with me anyway

(c) 2018 Indigo Kenna

And the morning after
            is always tinged with regret;
I can see it in the sunrise before I
            open my curtains.
If only I could pretend
            that, some days, it doesn't
            keep me better company
            than my faithful lover.

© Indigo Kenna

Yes, yes, yes, it's true--
Each striking word they say:
The broken heart I had from you
Has all been washed away.

(c) 2017 Indigo Kenna

Don't tell me to open my eyes and see
When it's you who has kept me in the dark.

(c) 2019 Indigo Kenna