Dear Poetry,

This isn't a love letter, but read it anyways.
How’ve you been?
Who've you been with?
Haven’t seen you for a few days.
And I really do hope that you've been doing good,
But I just thought I’d write you this because some things need to be understood.

I’m so caught up in your madness like magnets.
And I’m not happy with how things have been going lately between me and you.
You've been growing pretty distant and I refuse to lose you too.
So many fakes and liars have come and gone in and out of my life this year,
And I hate to have this fear, but I feel that you won’t be staying here.

Do you remember when we met? Since that first sleepless night you had my back,
But as of lately you’re just the reason I've been dressing in all black.
I’m committed to you, but you don’t seem that loyal to me.
So many kids recently have started rhyming.
And I’m not saying that I’m jealous, because truthfully I’m not.
It’s just that seeing you with all these other kids has got my stomach in a knot.
I’m not saying I don’t trust you, because really I do.
I’m kind of just torn because I've stayed so **** loyal to you.
But it’s whatever, go ahead and go where you will,
Those other kids won’t stop me from writing how I feel.
I wonder though, if I leave here will you even miss me?
I don’t think that you would, but I’ll trust you with my insecurities.

And I'm aware
That life, it isn't fair.
I've got nothing in return for the nights I've stayed up writing with you here.
And honestly, writing has confirmed all my fears.
It’s crazy how so much can change in just one year.
But for now, I think that’s all I have to say.
I’m not happy with where we are,
And I’m just hoping that you’ll stay.

Sincerely,

Kennedy Taylor.

They said no pulse
could match the pace of mine
but our two souls
beat in time

Hell Fire complained ' O my Lord!
my different parts eat up each other. '
So it was allowed two breaths,
one in winter and one in summer.
So when you feel biting cold in winter
or in summer when you perspire.
Remember merciful God has allowed
two breaths to blazing hell fire.

just brief moments of relief
when you pull at a piece and the tower
doesn't collapse
you're still standing and
you go to take a breath and suddenly you're
chin up, clutching the side of
the tub
and all that comes out are
silent screams, as your gut rots in
ache

your name rings so loudly
in my mind
that i cannot hear anything else

your touch was like a
roundhouse kick to my brain
short circuiting everything inside

your love was like a glacial age
your cold nature
****** everything in dry

your departure was like a nightmare
one where time is elapsed
and you don’t remember my name -

you don’t like me like that.

I've left behind what was once in line,
Countless demeaning remarks,
All forgotten, except "I'm done trying."
Words won't leave you dying,
It's whats behind them that sting like poison darts.

Every morning on my way to see her, and everyone I knew,
I passed two chairs, translucent, that you could barely see through.
Looking back on it now, after all this time
I can compare the curiosity, compassion,
the peak, and downfall, line by line.

Those chairs endured the most beautiful of days,
to the days where I felt as if I were in a maze,
Lost,                         dazed
One day a chair ripped, from the foundation.
I threw away the second one along with it,
One chair was wrong for every situation.

Hours become minutes, when you embark
on each second with no intent on finding out
where you'll end up, without a doubt.
I wonder when I'll get lost,
because I'm starting to regret the price I had to pay,
by refusing to stay, would be the ultimate cost.

I am torn in half.
One piece to the East,
And the other to the West.

The East a world of peace, There
I live in confidence of your promise.
I see Joy.
I see Love.
I see it there...You.

The Wild West, a place of confusion, There
I see Hurt.
I see Disappointment.
I see it there...You.

Someday, the two will be one.
They will meet in the middle.
I see Conflict.
I see Resolution.
I see it there...hopefully it's You.

A poor roman whose blood spilled,
Far from the homeland of patrician
Is how I feel currently.

As wounded as I currently am
By the grins little devils address to me
I chant glories of my torturers as they ax me down

What are they going to do with my bones. Would they sport it as jewelry,  closer to their hearts?
What are they going to do with my flesh? Have a relish on it?

What if I was destined to be a prey, not even taking a glimpse of your love by any other mean than pain...

Can I still envision it as some sort of gain, with it being the price of my very life
And so, my very dignity, or I shall say the remnants of it, are defunct along with me