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missy Jul 2
do you ever feel like you’re not the same as you used to be?

you changed... you’re not the little girl that runs around the street, that laugh at simple things, that cry over some toys, that throw tantrums whenever you feel like it

you changed... you’re not the girl who hangs out with friends every weekends; maybe even weekdays, who spends money to useless stuff you don’t even need, who befriends everyone to be considered part of the society, who tells lie to be able to hang out and be part of their so called group

you changed... you’re not the girl who cries over some random guys, who chased over undeserving guy, who get swooned over sugar coat words, who get played at, who get used at

you changed... you’re not the girl who remained silent, the girl who doesn’t fight for the right, who don’t share her wonderful thought, who doesn’t speaks for herself

you changed... you’re a woman now; who speaks her mind, who will stand for what is right, who will never let anyone brings her down

you changed for the better but why does it feel so wrong?
you’re not used to it
you can’t get used to it
but it’s for the better

so you blocked all those useless thoughts, those words that pains your heart and mind, you blocked every painful whispers you get... because you know that’s the only way for you to get better

and you need better; not for someone else but for yourself

—msy
One of the worst things I could have done
Is blame you for all of the things you couldn't have known.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
Forgetting that you too, are human.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
Knowing all of the things that I keep from you.
I realized my mistake only when it was too late.
Revealing to you all the things that I thought you knew.
The things you couldn't have known.
How your name drives me insane soon as I hear it.
Staring across from you embracing every moment.
These things not often said not knowing how you'd react.
If you'd really see how important you are
One of the worse things I could have done.
Separating these same feelings in the blink of an eye.
Not knowing if you truly felt the same as I.
Twisting myself in half not realizing how whole you made me.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
I love the way you look at me.
The nonchalant way you'd often speak.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
How I crumble at the chance I didn't pull you closer.
Too few gaps left to fill.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
All of the things I wanted to do.
All of the things I wanted to say.
The weight of cookies that sit on a shelf.
Often suffocate while no one watches
Never knowing the feeling of being in love.
They often crumble
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
Just because it's suggested doesn't make it right.
In the hands of teachers, other staff.
What other purpose could this directly serve.
To defend our institutions.
To further endanger those around.
The knowledge instilled from book to teacher a different practice.
Now holstered, hidden in the drawer of a desk.

What goes through the mind of the victim that's been bullied.

What training can be set in place to stop the next bulletin.

Shooting across the screen.

The kid in 10th grade that carries the weight of the world.

Sitting all day staring out the window.

Mother in hospice.

A fragile thought swallowed by deafening silence.

It no longer becomes a listening session of encouragement.

The after school sessions of comfort sped up.

Another bulletin of hysteria fired across the screen.

Teacher student affair.

15 year old student found with 42 year old man.

When in reality she was seeking help due to a troubled home.

Afraid to sleep knowing the door would creep open.

Leaving her terrified to close her eyes. The relationship between step daughter and father without boundary.


Where's the specialty training for those who care.

The proper resources that extend beyond that of a pamphlet.

The dark skin kids that's made fun of because they look different.

Stereotyped as aggressive.
The dope boys, the baby mamas.

The light skin girl that's made to feel inferior because she turns red with every hit.

Her hair is longer than theirs so she wants to cut it.

Aggressively forgetting all the beauty she possesses.

The active shooter managing to make it pass the metal detectors.

Rallying the attention he didn't get at home.

The debate carries on across every wall except the right ones
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
Let's make some time.
Time for you and I to leap past
Anything other than  transcendent.
A vacation other than what we see day in and day out.
To lick our lips in awe.
Awe of how many times we've passed each other.
Never thinking the sun to shine as beautiful as it has against your eye.
Our lips water in infatuation.
A substitution to the emptiness we walk pass on a daily basis.
Stepping outside of the ordinary.
A fluid motion
Laughing at random moments.
The thing's kept in our heads brought to life in a smile.
Status quo of moving pass sitting still.
Seeing you with new eyes,
Shapes & colors.
An intersection of skin travelled by happy eyes.
Open, full.
The sensation of going somewhere new.
The butterflies no longer sit at the stop sign.
Checking both ways before pulling out.
Moving beyond the end of the street
Without the feeling that something is missing.
When you get the chance,
Let's make some time for you and I.
With no intent on arriving,
Whatever destination we set.
Let's make time just to make time
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2018
Nonetheless
I refer to you and frankly I cannot stop.
I once heard a gypsy sing not anything of this world.
I doubt her song was for me.
Nonetheless
I referred to her almost immediately.
Unapologetically removing myself from conclusion.
Frankly I just love hearing her talk.
Going from place to place.
Retrospection
It's very likely I never once moved.
Referring to her for immediate assistance.
Establishing chair in wait.
Youthful eyes wild & free.
Unable to tame the sunset.
Her sense of freedom.
Not anything of this world
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Through many misadventures.
It's you I seek.
Climbing the many stairs that lead me to my goal.
It's never enough.
Through the laterals of vault jumps.
Through the brick and mortar of red paths.
I still see them when I close my eyes.
No matter how terrified I am.
I still make that jump for you.
Finding all the traces you've been.
The worn soles of the many miles I've traveled.
My self put to the side.
 I find the many seeds that we've planted.
Once beautiful, now overgrown to the point that they no longer fit in regular pots.
Without you there's no reason to toil around anymore.
The ghosts of who we use to be wait behind every corner.
Confronting me everytime I turn my back.
Still it's you that I seek.
Finding my own personal hell.
Fire breathing dragon included.
I've tried to hide myself behind my work to no avail.
It follows me everywhere I go.
The inter-workings of my mind.
I've found myself hanging on a string.
Time after time.
Bridges that I've crossed getting from point A to B.
The growth that's essential to make it to the next stage.
The sound of coins no longer entices.
Facing my fears in the hope of reaching you again.
Finding a better me.
The final ax to the head of the fire breathing dragon that guards you closely.
In the end to find that this closet I keep my fears.
Has turned to another castle.
With another dragon.
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
Due to popular belief. I believe that certain things are due to happen naturally.
Like all other things it's bound to grow. This thing, love.
We are due to become obese to this organic, homegrown feeling.

The initial look that begins as taste. Naturally we are starved.

Aroused by the scent that lures us close. This thing, love.

One thing we must learn is self control. To not over indulge in the primary reason it exists.

To selfishly take because it's there. This thing, love.

Effort exudes as it becomes habit. Being placed at a table readily available for what portion comes next.

This need becomes confused with want.

To please others before our need in unselfish manner. A straight forward response to habit.

The rising availability of also being taken for granted. The insurmountable outline that defines lust.

Our intake becomes higher attempting to justify the difference. Thus we become lazy.

Reacting in ways we normally wouldn't. This thing, love.

This scent acts as incentive,  instantly attracted by which we over indulge.

Searching for this thing, love.

It's a reasonable thing. Knowing when to reach. When to pull. When to give and sacrifice.

Almost always all of these happen, learning self control, vocalizing when we've had our fill.

Else we will continue to eat until there is nothing left.
Grown obese. This thing, love
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
Sometimes I miss you.
The music from the speakers the only thing to fill the blanks of a rotating fan.
The rhythm to ease the silence.
Remembrance of how you sound,
Sometimes I miss you.
Negating myself with quick tugs & pulls.
I hang at your leisure.
Drawn to life at the rise of your head
I am lost without you
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
I fell in love by the shore.
Nose wide open.
In a cool curve I felt a ripple of bliss.
Through my eyes I followed every motion.
Every gleam that shown through vibrant hue.
The echo of true loves kiss.
Like that I became hooked.
A sharp pain coming from my jaw.
To be pulled in a direction that wasn't my own.
I panicked.
The more I fought, the stronger the pull got.
My jaw stung with every tug.
I was at a loss for words.
Finding it hard to breathe.
Each gasp deeper than the next.
I was lured by the same shore I loved from afar.
The bitter pinch I believed to be love at first sight.
No longer able to breathe.
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
I caught you in the corner of my eye.
If only you could read my mind.
The sweet notations I selfishly hold.
I'd like to think that I've caught you.
Displacing myself in every other word you say.
If you've ever noticed my eyes as close as they are now.
The intimacy of being held close.
Secret longing.
The swift pace that eyes move.
Catching you in the corner of my eye.
On the border of each blink.
Temptation, the watering of eyes.
Terrified to close.
Terrified that when they open you'll be gone.
Having to chase and catch you all over again
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