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 Jul 2013 speakeasied
Kinyo
Yesterday I raced to get to the air pregnant,

awoke early to get to the starting line,

vacant pavement.

Today I wanted a new beginning,

to be awake finally,

to the erasure of all things,

precedents, that make desires incredible.

The sun gives light,

like fresh batteries.

Who did fashion who,

sun fashion man,

did man fashion sun,

did man work himself to get grace from the sun,

did sun work sun to be good for man,

or did air work both sun and man,

to be it's good children.

The fashions do change,

but one thing remains the same,

man is in a world well suited

for new beginnings.
http://kinyopoetry.com
They speak of peace and stability
while  vacationing in a dreamland      
reality hurts
sweet words are lies
when actions speak the loudest
   the truth will prevail
    honesty is gold
 Jul 2013 speakeasied
-
I always feel so down
knowing she's not here
helping me smile again
and wiping away my tears
she was my favorite poet
such a beautiful heart
makes me
want
to
be
put
to rest
with
the one
who made
me smile
the brightest

I could never forget her face
or her infectious laugh
the way the room would shine
when she walked in
her personality shined
like the sun
her hugs
are what
I miss
the
most

it's been three years
and I'm still grieving the loss
of my favorite poet
the one who
gave my heart
warmth
enough
strength to
re-start
re-activate

her death changed the way
I looked at life
she taught me that
life can easily begin
but also
very easily
end
RIP Sidonie. I love you. You'll always be my friend,
my sister at heart and, my favorite poet in the world.

© Natali Veronica 2013.
I have not slept in days.
Today marks somewhere
between one to two weeks
Where I have not found rest.

I have seen the sun rise
And seen the sun set
More times than I would like.
I've seen the bright light of
The Luxor from the strip,
Shining into the night sky,
A beam to the stars that I have
Daydreamed of following -
Maybe then I'd find
A nice place to rest.

But I've grown restless
Trapped in this ****** city,
Where sin is encouraged
And fuels the economy,
And I don't want to be here
Anymore.

I have seen the neighbors through my window,
Few pulling into their driveways
At the crack of dawn,
While others leave at the same time.
The same woman across the street,
She steps onto her front steps
Desheveled, hair a mess
Takes a seat and lights a cigarette
Every morning at 6 am.

I have memorized the textured ceiling,
The wood lines of my dresser,
The precise timing of the air conditioning,
And the time that my family wakes up.
They prepare breakfast for themselves,
Knowing that I am asleep,
And leave just a few hours later.

I suppose this shouldn't be
much of an issue -
It's summer, after all.
But I have not found rest.

Even when school was in session,
I never got more than a few hours,
And I survived just fine in the day
But now I get nothing,
Zero, zip.

And nothing makes sense.
And everything moves
In slow motion.
And my thoughts are intrusive.
And nothing makes sense.
And I'm paranoid
Of nothing at all
And nothing makes sense.
And I just want to rest.
Someone teach me how to sleep because I seem to have forgotten how that works.
I have never been a religious soul but I found a cathedral in my bedroom in the form of your body hardening beneath the white linens attached to my mattress. It was the perfect combination; I'd begin on my knees between your thighs and sin again and again in the form of sliding you down my throat, and then I would crawl up your body and sit on your lap and rock back and forth as I prayed for redemption. I never knew grace until you pressed your kiss to my breast and I never felt a revelation until you tucked your hand inside me for safe-keeping and wouldn't remove it until my whole body was shaking. And because I have never been a religious soul I fear that I cannot promise to return to this cathedral but I'll be ****** if I don't burn it down before I go.

— The End —