My Pandora's box, nailed shut, known as the FEAR.
I can't look at the box, it is FEAR.
FEAR itself.
A good day today but my fragile mind has seen the box, the FEAR.

Face the FEAR, **** the FEAR.
Face the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

The apprehension, the box, the FEAR.
**** the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

Oh, the untold, the box, the FEAR.
**** the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

But for you, not one ****** tear.
Tell anyone you read this poem and
I'll ****** **** you!

Kaydee, confidence growing.
Kaydee, feeling bold.
Kaydee, the story untold.

Poetry by Kaydee.

I've been thinking more about you recently.
...No, not like that. Don't get the wrong idea,

Again.

You come back into my mind like the text notifications that would light up my phone.
Only this time I can't press the block button,

Again.

It's an odd feeling, a sort of confusion that gives me anger.
But I don't want to try and figure it out,

Again.

I was vulnerable, alone, suicidal, depressed, and you knew that.
You took advantage of me with your manipulative "I love you"'s

Again.

I fell for it, I was weak, and I loved you for awhile, I truly did.
Until you made me take off my clothes and give you a show,

Again.

It was intimate, for the first couple of months I thought.
But you began seeing me more as your ****** object,

Again.

But I wanted to believe you loved me.
So I opened my skin for you to make your home in me,

Again.

Did you deserve that? At the time, I thought it was only right.
But giving you my ***** home was my mistake,

Again.

The cycle continued, manipulation of *** for my dignity.
My identity was at stake, I was scared to hear you say,

"Again."

Silenced by threats that would expose me more than the skin I showed you.
So I, weak and stupid, fed into your fantasies

Again.

Emotional turmoils arose if I didn't give you what you wanted.
And I, depressed and scared of being alone, endured the hurtful words,

Again.

I had let your words define my worth.
I was nothing more but just someone who deserves this hurt,

Again.

There's a reason I stayed, but I feel like it was more rather for me than you.
I feel like some days I wanted this pain, or that I deserved it,

Again.

My trust was tattooed on your hand, my heart tattooed on your foot.
Never realizing the damages you left in me,

Again.

As you began to rattle my rib cage to wake me,
Asking me for more, and more, until I bled out my soul,

Again.

Forceful grabbing, soulless insults, groaning and yelling,
Then you'll leave, high and dry, for hours until you were ready to start,

Again.

My body shakes, my mind in disarray, buzzed like bees in a can.
I wept as I had to bandage myself,

Again.

You broke me as easily as a porcelain doll.
And I laid there, numb, as you kept moving your hips faster,

Again.

My body turned cold, as my heart packed its bags to leave.
I neglected myself, all for you, but you just wanted to keep going

Again.

You probably didn't care that I said I couldn't feel a thing.
You covered my mouth, ripped off my clothes, and forced yourself through,

Again.

Stating that I'll feel you inside, I'll feel our love in my chest.
But I cried and all I could feel was the yearning to slit my neck,

Again.

I had many breaking points, but none the worst as the last.
I was ready to give my tired body to the Reaper's arms,

Again.

And so I did, I left without a care of whatever you were going to do.
No matter how many threats and insults you shoved into my ear once

Again.

You wanted my hollow body that echoed your voice of "Take it off for me,
Again."
And I stab myself through my stomach, slice myself in half, rip you from the grip you had around my heart, snip your gnarly fingers from my brain, and say

"No."

So we're all doing "better..."
I ponder this as I go over all of our
Future life "perfections,"
War is ten times more ******
And violent than ever before.
If that's not enough, we deny
The loss of every day for people
Who go do boring, dead end
Professions.
(Life is very short, so why not
Spend each day mopping floors
And filling out orders for life!)
As if that isn't a tragedy,
A wonder as it is, the political
Playground is a wonderland
With the most immature
President in history now in
Charge, people pretend we'll
Somehow survive, his agenda
To remove, to dispose of
Anything or anyone he deems
To be "at large." If anyone
Loves immigrants, they are
Stupid, insane, and lack any
Integrity. If you don't work
And have a car, even if you're
(ACTUALLY!)
Disabled, you're a "waste of human
Space," to be guilt trip prone,
Ridiculed, no excuse, a total pity.

Well we certainly fixed this life up!
And left the rest of the world in the dust...