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Kay-Rosa May 13
pitter-patter on my head
turning my face to the heavens
acid burning a line of tears
thunder-beating of my heart; heavy and rhythmic
lightning-spark of my breath; sharp and bright
dark cloud, large and menacing
hanging just above my head
Kay-Rosa May 8
Because I could not tell for Annie,
it did kindly tell for me.
Annie, Annie, every where,
Yet not a drop to tell.

How happy is the West Side Story, American Anita!
Anti Anita.
Does the anti Anita make you shiver?
does it?

How happy is the three fundamental truths Angie!
Does the Angie make you shiver?
does it?

When I think of the brilliant Becky, I see a common O.W.L..
Whoo!
Why is it so fuzzy?

Like an a friend's friend, the Annie likes to tell.
Annie, Annie, every where,
Yet not a drop to tell.
Kay-Rosa May 8
you crawl inside my veins,
clog my circulation,
stop my heart

you cuddle inside my bones,
rattling the mirth of me,
stopping me in my tracks

you sneak inside my mind,
clouding my every waking moment,
stealing my brain cell (one at a time
with every side glance in my direction)

you steal inside my ear,
your voice a whisper across the room,
your sound resting on my shoulder

you sit upon my lips,
dangling your legs from my tongue,
your name choking me every time I see you

you curl up between my legs,
your voice, seductive to your significant other
bothers me so

you scratch beneath my skin,
always a need at the back of my neck,
forever pulling me in while pushing away

you cloud my subconscious,
so every time I drink, somehow
your my designated driver

let me poke your heart,
as you stab mine, shredding it to bits
just so you might see me
hey, dudes.
Kay-Rosa May 7
Darling, baby, corazon
Dear, sweetheart, sugar,
Honestly, never your name.
Honey, pet, cinnamon
Carino, mon chou, bunny.
For the day I call you by your name,
Cuddlebear, goddess, pearl
Star, treasure, microbe
Is the day I'm on one knee, love.
Google 'terms of endearment microbe' apparently its Italian. I laughed sooo hard at that. Im terrible.
Kay-Rosa May 6
i fear the dark,
i fear the light.
i fear the shadows and the monsters who take refuge in my mind.
i fear the eternal silence,
i fear the bloodcurdling screams of the voices who are never given a microphone.
but most of all,
above any fear i have ever felt,
i fear being stuck, i fear failure.
i fear i will never get anywhere with my limited abilities.
i fear falling down,
                            down,
                                   down,
                                         down
to my own personalized hell where endless,
                                              crippling failure is
inevitable.
                                                            for once
                                 just once
can i play the game
                                                                                 and win?
Kay-Rosa May 6
When we were younger,
you wished to be a pirate.
You wished to pillage and plunder, brother mine.
But, of such times, you forget.
And I helped you to forget.
Rid your intensely intelligent mind
Of rotting things.
Now, you help people.
But, not to help them,
To keep yourself from becoming too bored.
I wonder, brother dear, if you were a pirate,
Would you become bored of the sea,
Bored of the pillaging and plundering?
Would you wish to come home?
Or would you continue searching for something,
Forever upon those waters of endless boredom,
Forever the bored pirate, dear brother?
Would you?
Inspired by my obsession with Sherlock Holmes, in all his forms (RDJ, Benny Cumbers, Will Ferrel, etc.) and his ever present brother, worried about his safety. They're just a bunch of big ol' softies, I swear.
Kay-Rosa May 1
The simple things in life, flowers, kisses on children's noses;
Everyone says, "stop and smell the roses".
I prefer a lilac, a sweet, soft aroma;
The color of the wax insignia on my high school diploma.
Or maybe a honeysuckle, sweeter than day.
Singing songs on stage, a heart meant for Broadway.
Then, possibly a gardenia, a white multi-petal;
Floral smell, like jasmine tea in a copper kettle.
But never a rose, the smell sharp and acrid;
Red, pink or white, all color refracted.
So, can I stop and watch the sunset, slow into the night,
Instead of pricking my fingers, Mr. Fahrenheit?
Kay-Rosa May 1
look for the bare necessities
the simple bare necessities
remind me of my worries with that knife
i mean that tongue that rests at ease
the color out of life, you squeeze
leaving just the bare necessities of life
sing it. i dare you. tell me if you do.
Kay-Rosa May 1
there are days
when i wish
Nagini would just
swallow me whole
so that i
could prove to
the world that
i could escape
b e c a u s e
Rikki Tikki Tavi
isn't on my side
i would slit
the beast from
the inside and
emerge dripping with
serpent saliva (ew)
"Hey, whats for dinner?"
I found this in one of my old poetry notebooks and thought it was worthy to lift the hammer.
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