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 Mar 2019 Baylee Kaye
David
Hungry
 Mar 2019 Baylee Kaye
David
I'm very hungry
Starving like a little ant.
Refrigerator.
I'm starving bro.
 Mar 2019 Baylee Kaye
Grantland
It is hard to stop
My anxious ruminations
The path too well trod
lately, the anxiety keeps settling in my teeth,
setting them on edge:
an unwelcome guest spitting scornful jest
to cause my brain to second guess
every thought i thought wasn't a mess,
exposing my mind -- a train wreck

i scruff my tongue against them
in the hopes of forcing the enamel clean
but this apprehension's made of harder stuff
that even molars couldn't crush;
the muscles of my jaw clench
their unhappiness, an endless throb
of raw numbness, itching to be expelled
through sound or sick or movement

excuses to flee, suddenly,
enunciated by the bitter desperation
to expel what words fail to express;
there's no sudden obligation,
no needs to address. i'm just trying
hard to outrun the foam of fruitless frets
fizzing into overflow, stomach acid upset
i need to escape this monotonous cycle and do something new to let my mind reset
The first time I made love to my mind

When love escaped from the gaps
Between our silences and overthinkings
I saw the naked mind.
We sailed from thousand cuddles of imprudence
To a long warm kiss of sanity.
While I dwindled in her arms of fool's paradise
No sleep just one long weary night,
Her ****** reeked of loneliness
I licked it. Hoping to taste ingenuity,
it was the aftertaste of forsaken feelings
that made me ***** her
till she stopped moaning neon dreams.

Somewhere in my walkabouts in her
I created deep craters of memories
Which she took for love bites
were, in fact, scars for life.
We were virgins on our quests
Thirsting our way through wanting and longing......
She made me swallow lust
Slowly. Heavily downtown.
And fingered it, the ***** of thoughts
Ruptured.
And she bled musings.
And Phantasmagoria exuding from her holes
And Spurting into mine like a cascade of brooding melancholy.....
And.... And....

The night my mind lost its virginity,
I sat down to write.
Make love to your mind, poets.....
 Feb 2019 Baylee Kaye
Sara Kellie
Kiss my bloodied lips before you go.
Remember darling, you reap what you sow.
I gave you that warning a few years ago.
So what's coming to you, you already know.
Now close your eyes and hold on tight.
I'll make it quick when I put out your light.
When you are gone, I might shed some tears.
Remembering back, we had some good years.
You chose a new ally, you made a mistake.
It won't take you long to realise he's fake.

Poetry by Kaydee
The bloodier the poem the better the therapy and yes, she's still alive.
In fact, the poem titled 'Natalie' is about her. We are also still married!
You see, therapy through poetry really works.
Written in 2012.
In your arms,
I'm in my safe haven.
With you holding me tight,
I have no other craving.

All I need is that one look
that says you're always there,
just like in a romance book.

Your eyes talk to me as the world stands still.
My once empty heart now with love does fill.

Your eyes tell me that
you'll love me every day.
No matter what may come,
you'll be there to stay.

I tell you everything and never with a lie:
all my worldly secrets
and everything that once made me cry.

Everything in my past,
with you I can forget it all.
I know I can trust you
to catch me if I fall.

If only I could explain
how much love I have for you.
Then maybe, just maybe, you'd feel it too.
i hear your voice
in my dreams
as i touch myself

i can feel your hands
all over my body
so rough and hard

i close my eyes as
my lips part letting
out a soft moan

my hands wander to
the waistband of my
******* as they inch
lower and lower

if only these dreams
became a reality
had yet another ****** dream about the boy I like and it just so happens that I work w him tomorrow
 Dec 2018 Baylee Kaye
juttu
A million children that could've been
A million children you've never seen
They're drying up in the towels
Rotting in the sewers
I've sprayed them on the walls
Wiped them on the curtains
They've gone down the willing throat
And in the public toilets they float
They are all racing
In the sewers
On the toilet seats
and the dripping walls
In a *****
On a lonely shore
They're racing  
Millions of them
Because they're programmed to race
To be THE one
To be first
To exist
And they're all dead
My million children that never were
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