You wanted her
The way a child wants a shiny toy
Right before Christmas

Thinking about her, the things you’d do if

You got her

You wanted the anticipation
You wanted the present,
wrapped up
with a nice ribbon on top!


You wanted to see her eyes sparkle
If you were to say something funny
Or endearing...

You wanted to taste her hot chocolate

But toys get old!

You should know, you’re not a child any more.
Every Christmas you end up wanting something new.

The only thing that remains is tradition,
Going home for the holidays

I thought I was tradition!
Thought I was home...

I thought a lot of things.

But I do KNOW one thing,
My hot chocolate is Christmas!

No one really knows,
Where we go.
No matter how strong,
Together,
And reinforced 
We try to be;
There is 
A force we can't control:
Fragility. 

So,
Let's not 
Think so much.

Our nature
Eludes true 
Vulnerability.

With the moon glancing into my window
And a quilt hugging my body
The wind moaning
And whistling
I become a ghost
Hovering
Through
From one world
To another
Evaporating
into a
new womb
Ready to be again.

-Sindi K.

@Sincidyy

They say past lives don’t exist
They aren’t real
We just need to hear about ourselves
It’s how we cope, just how we deal

We only exist until we don’t
DNA is why we’re “unique”
Horoscopes and the cosmos are for a mind that’s meek
We romanticize as shortcuts to answers we seek

Yet we hear great songs with our hearts
Before our ears
And every time a baby is born
Or a person dies
We shed tears

The clock never stops
even after years
Nostalgia creeps in
worse than our fears

You don’t stop getting deja vu
No matter how many nights we see the moon
It still has power in engulfing you
So plump, so bright
A big flashlight for the dark of night
The light at the end of the tunnel
A reminder of the suns return
A reason to look into the sky
A lighthouse for the nocturnal voyages

They say dreams are fragments of memory
But my dreams have shared destiny
And my friends have found rest in me
Through the idea of divinity
I’ve found the best in me

In every empty room
The wails and moans of a ghost can be heard
The remnants of yourself
Or another
Will always hurt
Until the next rebirth

Preserve the past in me
Like a mummy I’ll bring my riches
to another world


My sabatoge is your secret weapon.

-Sindi Kafazi

***** subway floors
Good commutes

Suicide
Up these Gotham city walls

Water dripping down a ***** stall

Cold winter cough you can hear
Homeless mans stare
on your case
Guilt and relief mold your face