That night they found you
In the park laying in blood
With your hoodie on, almost covering your  face

I saw you at the hospital bed and you looked comfortable even though you were in so much pain

It reminded me of all the times we would take the bus so early, so so early in the brisk mornings

And you'd be so sleepy,  so so sleepy and warm
You were always so warm
With your head inside your hoodie
Looking like a baby
And I'd giggle and give you kisses on your nose
Because I loved your nose the most

And you'd sort or squeeze my thigh and say something about my jeans. How they are too tight or how there are  "waaay too many rips."

And we would sit there silent just occasionally reading each others thoughts like it was nothing, just reading the way you'd read an ad on the bus

And I knew you were too good to be true
Because I felt like I was always dreaming around you

And I didn't think someone would make you go, make you leave me like this

And I didn't think the best memories of you would come so suddenly, in waves just to flood my whole body with this bad aching, such bad aching that felt like it was stealing years from my life...

And I really wanted it to, really really wanted it to.

every time I complain of bad dreams
it feels like I'm betraying sleep
the sight of a moon so sweet
plump yellow lady in midnight air
the smell of night like a black pear

engulfing you
and dissolving you
like sweet honey in hot tea

chamomile baby
chamomile air
chamomile breath

My moms voice lingering in midnight air:

"just eat sugar after you have a nightmare"

every time i complain of bad dreams
i feel like I'm betraying sleep
the sight of moon so sweet
plump yellow lady in midnight air
the smell of night like a black pear

engulfing you
and dissolving you
like sweet honey in hot tea

chamomile baby
chamomile air
chamomile breath

My moms voice lingering in midnight air:

"just eat sugar after you have a nightmare"

Every so often I wake up on top of my own blood
It seeps into the bed sheets where I usually count sheep
It causes a mess
But it comforts me

Because every so often I'm reminded that I am a woman and I have a woman's touch
I'm gentle but fierce
And blood, I've seen so much


Blood is the reason for a motherly touch on a child's scraped knees
A bandage infused with love engrained into the very fibers so deep

And Every so often someone's fingers touch and a bond is formed when one drop of blood kisses the other

And even when a baby leaves it's mother

It it covered in the sweetest pink tint of blood

I keep thinking about the peace I am greeted with while my hands are on your stomach
And your arms are under my head
Losing you is a thought I can't stomach
And tonight it'll **** me as I Iay in alone in bed

I fell a lot in life
And with failure comes dread
Sometimes it's hard to get back up
But when I fell for you I was suddenly not dead
But ironically I don't think I'd ever get back up if you left

Outta curiosity they'll ask where you live and I'll always almost slip

And say "that guy lives in my heart"

But who the **** says **** like that?

Besides me in private when I'm with you or me in public after 3 long islands

But ****...its official
The flight attendant commands
We fasten our seat belts
And before I know it the plane lands

Back in New York and it feels like my soul melts

I don't know what to do.

These miles are memories
And now I got memories for miles
But yet I regret not taking like 10 pictures of each of your smiles.

In the morning under a sky so rudely gray
I sneak off into a cab
While you smoke your worries away
We are kinda the same
But we also kinda different
Like night and day
I see you and you kidnap gravity
From underneath me

Why do you always smell so earthy
Like a forest
When You trippy
like an alien
I feel our souls are rooted
subterranean
Your kiss ignites
Something in the air
You are fine
powdered
Uranium
In other words,
a snack

Stop thinking you’re not enough.
There’s different ways to be funny, different ways to be beautiful
And different ways your talent is expressed from within you

Stop thinking your not enough
Everyone got it rough
One way or another
We all came from a mother
Caused great pain to a mother

Begged for a lover
Just to become
Someone’s mother
Or someone’s father
And someone’s none of the above
Or someone’s other

But more or less someone’s.

Stop thinking your not enough
We all struck by diseases
We all praise some version of Jesus
Even those godless
Get goosebumps
And butterflies in their stomach
And seek purpose and wonder

We are all human
And at some point we
All turn fragile

And at some point we can tell each other we are not made of porcelain
And to be strong

Life’s a journey
but it’s not that long

I tell myself this
When I want to stop thinking
I’m not enough...

“Eyes are the windows to your soul”
      And while that may be true
         I see an entire doorway
           When I look into you
            Corridors full of art
             Leading to eternal
                     sunshine
            I see a friendly door
          With a welcome home
                        sign.

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

Those taken for granted
Will fly away home
Those who took them for granted
will be haunted
by their deaths
In spaces
they called home.

Love, love, love
It runs so deep like the roots of a tree
Connecting together

A flower attracting a bee

Love, love, love
Runs so deep
Heals you and cleans you
The way alcohol does a wounded knee

Love, love, love
You will see
When my gramma looks at me

Love, love, love
smells so good
My grammas  baked goods
My grammas pillow case
My grammas hair
And her whole face

Love, love, love
It's everywhere
From the smile formed with her lips
And the softness of her strong gramma hips
To the apron that she wears
And the so tantalizingly familier scent my mother shares

Because

Love, love, love
Paves the way
It will never lead you astray


Love, love, love
It runs so deep like the roots of a tree
It is embedded in you the way it's embedded in me

Love, love, love
Has us entangled
From the inside of beating hearts
To the dirt under the earth.

To come from the line of a man who tamed the snakes
Gazed into the fire
And breathed life into wombs of women
Dying to be the shell
Broke down plants till they became medicine
Healed the hands he touched,

And what am I but a vessel of his life,
A broken one?
His blood must have ran right through me
Like the monotony of a lecture
In one ear and out the other

You whispered “Every time we do it, you fall asleep after.”
Every time we do it
You take a piece of my soul
And it’s only natural
I fall asleep on your chest after
So drained and
Maybe clinging to the being that’s collecting from my aura
Or maybe just at peace about being lost in you
And kept in you
Forever.

Sun beam

I’ve been praying at the sky
I’ve been begging under different phases of the moon
I’ve been praying in two
Languages
At different times- morning, night, noon
I’ve been praying unto my
Pillow
Soaking wet
From thinking the thoughts that cause fears
I’ve been praying with my eyes open and shut
I’ve been swallowing my bitter tears
I’ve been praying while imagining the ancient pyramids
And the man on the moon
I’ve been praying while looking at the children
Playing


I’ve been praying while staring at my  mother remembering the smell of her and wishing her hugs could engulf me the way they did way back when I was a small child
Wishing she could tuck me
Smelling like baby shampoo
Sound of the late night cartoons
The warmth of a blanket
and my mothers soft prayers
Floating in the air
Past the sound of lullabies
Past the ceiling
Past the ancient pyramids
And any man on the moon....

I see
I taste
Wasteland of emotion
I feel but yet I am still void
What do I have to offer?

They say the stars rarely come out in New York
But have you been over it, while sitting in an airplane?
New Yawks a galaxy
A galactic city named atrocity
Urging people to find themselves, and learn about themselves
Narcissistic like astrology  

New York rushes me
And brushes me
OFF
New York is so inspiring
But yet
My thoughts are stuck in traffic
And trust me
We have writers on every block

*** holes
That mock

The tapping of your shoe
As you try and try to hush a crowd
Just so that you could get through

We got news anchors talking about how somebody got shot
and sometimes you feel your spirit beggining to rot
Because you can't stop
Imagining bullets
Shooting In every angle
Just dipping into your wakefullness like lullabies
Once in the heart
Twice in the eyes

And three in each ear
It's like **** what you think, feel, see and hear

But It's next year and your still here
In the city where the sound of an ambulance
Can be your alarm
and with a stranger you'll sit arm to arm

So come camp out in Brooklyn under the bridge because your heart will know exactly where those lost ideas now live

Come take the subway and study the map
It'll let you know where to go to get all your inspiration back

And if all fails head to the flea market somewhere sorta creepy downtown
And get yourself a muse
She'll show you around.

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


My sabatoge is your secret weapon.

-Sindi Kafazi

I lifted you
From the ground
UP
You STABBED me
In
the
back  
THROUGH  
the heart
that
loved
you.

He takes a drink when nothing's going well
He forgot we had a good thing, no one could ever sell

Empty out the bottle baby
Ill be home, let me be comfort....maybe?

I lost his number
He still has mine, but he's busy
trying to become number

I buried my feelings in him.
He just
wants to be in her
And she can only
sometimes let him
            In

So I finally understand how the bottle could win

I finally understand dysfunction, the glory of all sin


And I am utterly familier

With pain,

In the tide of its reign  

Sindi

Poem, poem I wish I had you in the palm of my hand,
Sometimes I read each word, with this hunger
Devouring it, quickly

Sometimes I gaze at each word intently, looking for eyes, windows,
Maybe to the soul of the one holding down the pen
Or beating the keys

But most importantly, I’m looking at the shape of the words, the font, the way the word looks happy or sad, the feelings the word describes. The soul of the word.

Some words are thrown into the notebook, computer screen, broken iPhone screen
Fortune cookie,
You name it...
Randomly like
when babies have babies

Some words are carefully thought of,
like settled down rich folks bound by their calendar, scheduling their love making to hopefully, fingers crossed* concieve the perfect child.

However, once they end up on that page, they become their own person.

They see themselves one way, they show themselves another, maybe a reflection of their creator

But the world is free to read between the lines
Judge them
Analyze them
Or fall in love with them....

I’ve done
Most
But really for the most part reading poems is like taking.a warm bath in a cozy home,
While the bitter winter lives on
Reading poems is to go for a long walk
Away
For some
Air.

And to think of those with one choice, already chosen for them
When I have freedom

My freedom is prison
The clock moves forward
Everyday
it keeps taking me back
to that loneliest hour
I can’t stop breathing, even if I tried

Something in the air just weighs me down
A flower watered to death.

we don’t fit into each others shoes
but we walked down the path of many hues

different kind of blues

and we found we don’t need to fit inside
we just have to walk, side by side.

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!

The kettle is whistling
That same tune
I hear it everywhere
The voices will
start whispering
        Soon
I know it’s only
the ghost of you

The ones who should be forgotten are those who let you shift away from their memories like tectonic  plates in the earth

are those whom never placed you in their hearts, not even a single place even though the chambers are boundless and love is known to drop fast.

Face it, you weren't rooted in their cores
and when you floated into space, their gravitational pull wasn't strong enough...
because they didn't even try to pull you back.

It didn't matter how funny you were. How original your thoughts could have been.

They didn't know you were so out of your element because they didn't know your element.  

They lost sight of your ghost thinking it was all of you.

You're lost forever now and like a body lost at sea, they will never cross the bay.

They wouldn't even think about making a time machine
your existence was bound to be forgotten anyway

The only thing natural about your friendship was the disaster

You were the scarce soil that was only good that one time, the empty battlefield where blood shed was covered by the wrong victories.

-Sindi

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

Sometimes I feel like I’m in the midst of a junk yard
***** junk yard girl
I’m part of all the scrap metal
Rusting away
Under the gentle yet violent embrace of such a ridiculously big sun, so powerful and on top of us
It’s no wonder summers make it so hard to breathe...
Then again so does the brisk wind, in a bitter winter

You can’t win.

I imagine myself immersed in the sand of a desert
the sand enters my cuticles till they explode
let me just bleed
In total
Peace

Letting the sand run through my fingers, just for a brief moment

I can control time.

Like popcorn stuck in your molars
While the smooth butter just lathers up your taste buds
I live feeling bipolar

Nostalgia can ******* away
with a high so strong
It makes me want to live

Maybe it’s the magic of those late 90’s cartoons glaring through my tv screen

Sugary cereals before they were so bad for you

Maybe it’s how people seem, from the distance of time

Like an alien
I roam around this life that is mine
Advanced enough to blend in
Curious enough to stand out looking lost.


-Sindi Kafazi

Gin and tonic please
Gin and tonic please
I just want to bathe in it

She gets hypnotic

At the bar


Away from the
Bar

Actually,
IN the bar,

Just mindlessly staring at
The shapes of a woman sitting on the wood

En

Stool



I can feel it now
like a ****** toons character,  getting hit really hard
The little stars circulating my head...
There’s stars in my eyes, a glow of the iris and a pupil that looks like a freshly polished shoe
I know how I look when I’m drunk okay?

Do you?

I know how I look when I’m drunk, okay?
Do you?

Do you ever look in the mirror?

Do you see your subconscious suddenly rise out of you?

Like a magic trick
Like a witch being summoned,
Accidentally
Because a naive ****** lit
The wrong candle

Sorry I’m off topic now, I can barely focus
But I love hocus pocus
The idea of three sisters being reunited
In the midst of a beautiful ,crisp, purple, nocturnal place
On Halloween....



Do you see your conscious slipping deeper into you though?
Do you?
So now your subconscious is your conscious
The thoughts we could control end up tying us up
Wrapping our mind around everything
A little too tight
Don’t you think?

And sometimes when your conscious is sleeping....
It’s the best feeling, yet at the same time so unnerving, just the worst.

Your sloppy, standing on a slippery *****
Sloppy *****
Lost in sudden, intoxicated hope
But your cheeks are burning
And your hearts on fire
Yearning
You have a sense of clarity
And freedom,
You think you do, at least.


Now I lose control, I knock over a shot glass
And it splashes on her lap
She licks her lips

I don’t like girls.


I start crying because I think of people and diseases.

I don’t like girls.

My eyes well up with tears and she says you look like a ******* baby.
You’re sad and your beautiful.
And your cheeks, so soft and full.

I don’t like girls.

Her lips lock mine
So lightly like a piece of pollen falling in your hair
I could barely feel it
Yet my body responded so swiftly

Gin and tonic
Gin and tonic
As she pours hypnotic

I don’t like girls

But what’s anyone going to do
Without the soft cradling touch of a lady
Who can hold you to her *****
Keep you close like Allie and Noah in the canoe
Let you rest like a cat cradled up unto a crescent moon

And give you the comfort and the freedom to feel peace
Like
A gin and tonic
Gin and tonic

Beautiful, strong women
So hypnotic.

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

That you take my old bones
often clinging like wind-chimes
at the old Kansas windows,
will always be a sadness

A sadness that stretches somewhere above and beyond all the colors in the sky

Something that consumes me
Starting with a lump in my throat
I wish I could spit, I wish little by little
it could leave my insides and end up on the pavement like third generation gum

But instead Im left with a feeling of dread
that casts away into the ugly orange sky
of a day dying

Time is the ugliest thing of all
it will see you and let you fall
cracked staircase after cracked staircase of soon to be
demolished houses
paint chipping off walls like leaves scattering in the fall

Tooth decaying
world greying

And you take my old bones
often, clinging like wind chimes
and you watch them dance in the dusty sky

I'll love you through the night
After you made the couch a bed
And the tv light is still on even though the movie is playing in your head  

Whether you're dreaming or speaking
Or just sitting there thinking
And even when you get to shrieking

I'll love you.