Two weeks [redacted] you.


I think I said that out of anger-

but I don’t think you could blame me-

or maybe you do-

because I know now how it feels-

to have spent two weeks [redacted] you.


I can’t even say the words because

I don’t want anyone to judge me-

rather that’s the last thing I need-

as while I was [redacted] you I wasn’t

[redacted] myself.

I was mean.

I was harsh.

If that’s what [redacted] you was-

then well, maybe I’m better off.


I did [redacted] you. I think I have did a while-

and people say that to [redacted] someone else you have to [redacted]

yourself but that’s not true because I hated myself when I [redacted]

you.


I thought everything I did was wrong-

I said this-

I did that-

did you think I meant that-

and even if you understood what you think I said-

could you tell that I [redacted] the idea of being with you like that?


Why can’t I [redacted] the idea of [redacted] myself the way that I so

desperately wanted to [redacted] you?

I have food in my belly
A roof over my head
And thoughts that keep me spinning

I have a grandma who loves me
A cousin who looks up to me
A cat and a dog
That have so much warmth to give.

But All I can think
Is how there's a chance
That you don't love me

Every 7am
I check my phone
Hoping there's a message from you

How far down the line does this go
Is it mutual
Even a bit
Even at all?

But my hope is too strong
My faith isn't giving up
On the possibility of meeting your core.

I'm hard headed
Stubborn
And passionate to the bone.

I'm silly
And I'm serious

I'm goofy
Clumsy
And ****

I'm a paradox
Wrapped in skin.

You haven't figured me out
As I'm unraveling more so
Each and every breathe I take.

Discovering the magic in my fingertips
The power of my voice
And the strength in my dance.

I'm a warrior woman
A goddess who will always strive
Even when it's hard to get up
When I'm weak and shaky
When I've been knocked down
To the gravel

A goddess will always strive
Even with warm tears
In her eyes.

If the girl over there has you distracted
With her big eyelashes and flirtatious flare

I hope it's worth it,
Cause it cuts my wounded heart.
To know you didn't even try to understand

My eyes.
My tries.

Take a look deeper,
Take a look inside..

I may be fallen now.
But I will rise.

-k.c

. . . but I don't have the courage this life time,
(Why? 'Cause look all you want: there's no use); I am threaded yet i am chained!
Don't you contemplate?
I must sit and eat at a table (I admit it); dance for a weary amount, though, I am a hoarder: a hoarder of bisouls, of biscorns, of biwhole )bihalves(

Apparition,
depise m3.
Always clinging onto
Dissonance.
It wasn't my fault.
The stresses stresses on
And nothing like it
Could ever begone.
It tears me.
You ever rip apart
The flesh of metaphoric
Truth?
Ofcourse not.
It belongs subjective.
Parallel and defiant.  
It belongs to no one.
This continues onward.
It discontinues.

I want to be as good as Taylor Swift
To write songs as sweet as you,
However I will always be Rihanna.
All I know is take care of you

Happy Sad.

It’s not a great feat to conjure happy writing or happy experiences

Mostly everyone is completely able bodied to do so.

Writing dark just gathers attention and is so much easier to write due to relativity.

When something feels good. It blends in with mundanity. When something hurts. It stands out.

Attention seeking is ******. Vacuous is one who engages in such activities.

Therefore I will write a happy poem...

I’m about to eat a steak.
In a cabin that was built in the 20s.

It had the first flushing toilet in sublet county.

I climbed today, nothing difficult. But it was very enjoyable above Fremont lake.

Now, sitting here on this ancient deck. In utter silence besides the Birds. I don’t feel accomplished. I feel comfortable. I can’t and don’t have anything to prove.

It’s only been an adventure. Starting out with rolling my friends Jeep. And then not telling his father. But rolling it back over with a sketchy high lift jack setup as a winch.

I can’t really see any point in holding onto grudges. But honestly I know they’ll come back as soon as I get back to civilization. That disgusts me about myself. I enjoy the bliss of being without malice, however I do not avoid it beholding me again even after self reflection.

How pitiful.