#sarah
His attention, caught,
and dropped from excitement, then --
she picked up the shards.
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 3:30 AM UTC
Sail far my shivering heart
Away from her name
Row fast, my dear, row away
A planet between you and her name
Half an hour flight back
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 10:43 AM UTC
We all deserve to walk in the dark if we wish.
We all deserve to get home safe.
We all deserve to be policed by kind hearts.
We are all Sarah.
Mar 16, 2021
Mar 16, 2021 at 3:53 PM UTC
Wala pa sa paaralan
Matunog na kaniyang pangalan
“Sarah.. Sarah..”
Anak ng isang mayaman
Dahil sa kaniyang ama
Marami siyang kaibigan
At dahil sa maraming pera
May mga taong nakamata sa kaniya
Ngunit ganoon ba talaga
Sa pera at pangalan bumabase ang mga tao
Kahit hindi pa nakikita
Kahit pa na ang destinasyon ay malayo
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 11:24 AM UTC
When Sarah Kay said "we all sound the same underwater"
I realised some people belong to outer space.
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 10:48 PM UTC
There was an old woman name Sarah that
her future was in shamble, that we thought
but God who has created
her, use her for great deed.
this woman gave birth to, nation of might
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC
I just need to write
I just need to leak
I won't say what's on my mind
I'll have the words search and find
Since when was opening up a crime
Only in this day and time
I want to speak
My tongue is locked
My eyes open wide
To flood things out
Stupid .
In a time where no one reads
No one reads the eyes
No one reads people
No one looks enough to care
If one doesnt listen , would one look?
Oh how foolish!
Teach my words to find contentment
Teach my thoughts to rest
An escape does not exist
Only in unseen space
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 1:29 AM UTC
You are absolutely the most gorgeous
Modest
Goddess on two feet
Those ambitious
Wished
Auditioned, failed
Had to sign a non-compete
You exemplify amplified
Undeniable
Realism till I’m knocked right off my feet
And meeting you leaves me
Tongue tied
Buy and refund vowels
Because I can barely speak
You are Artemis and Athena
Sometimes meaner
You’ve both the brain
And brawn to back it
Not many times do sights
So right
Prove worthy of me
Being flabbergasted
Mere mortal men’s minds cave in
Bend
And bow at your intricacies
And you blush, turning crimson
Glimpse
As humbleness rushes to your cheeks
You may not feel the heat
But I know the stakes
Grade A
You are prime to me
Prepared, unshared
With utmost care
Rare
And it’s the only time I’ll compare you to meat
I’ll avert my eyes as you rise
Ascend
A gentleman for eternity
Because love was fantasy
Fallacy
Utter blasphemy
Till you made a believer of me
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
you are important beyond your thoughts,
you have come so far in such a small amount of time,
your efforts are not ignored.
three hundred and sixty-five days have passed twenty times,
and you are still breathing.
i have loved you for three hundred and sixty-five days times,
the days you have suffered,
the moments you failed,
the hours in which you felt alone;
you were locked in but you wanted someone to pry the door down to let your demons out.
i have not stopped loving you and i may have stopped showing it but
that showed your determination.
you pushed on in your personal dark hours just to make it to the light.
the glow of hope that now radiates onto your skin,
you are living proof that strength lies within.
love brought it out,
but your courage kept it constant.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
hope aches
it’s a feeling that yearns for positivity
while ripping at emotions from the inside.
it’s a spell that needs just enough pain to create a final happiness.
hope craves,
starving yourself to get just a bite.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
Fairy tales have always had an antagonist;
an evil witch or vengeful pirate,
plotting against the beloved hero,
but not all stories are realistic.
There are villains out to get you,
but they can be a lot closer than a broom ride away.
The ones glaring with glowing eyes from the shadows emerge
and you recognize that reflection.
Sometimes the one preventing you from completing a task,
celebrating a victory,
or capturing the damsel.
Is because the distress is yours
and the hand locking it away can be your own twisting the key.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
Growing up there was chaos reshaping the love;
it was the cycle that gave us our dynamic.
A single thing acted like a looming shadow as it circled our warm home.
It would **** them one by one into its cold smog.
I grew used to its presence;
making me numb to its touch.
I had to settle the rest of their souls by ridding them of the darkness.
I was young but I understood pain;
I saw it in their eyes,
heard it behind a smile,
and felt it with the lingering touch -
longing to be comforted.
Eventually, the shadow turns to light.
The pain dissolved,
but I still remember every situation I made right -
the memories of the darkness still live inside me.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
the only way I could ever love myself is if I can look with rose colored glasses
but my vision is clear; lenses untinted and I can see all that I bare.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:31 PM UTC
Even though
It's been years,
Whenever I see fireworks
I think of you.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
I fell in love with a demonic woman.
I knew her claws would scar me,
her touch would burn,
her eyes would betray the words spit from her lips.
She sold her soul to the devil,
and I gave up my heart for her.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
some of your words may unwilt my image,
but it is my mind that plants seeds in my core,
my heart sprouts buds,
and my soul creates blooming bouquets.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
Your candy land was amazing at first,
a sickly sweet that gradually made me feel worse.
You eventually turned bitter and ****
right around the time you were ready to rip out my heart.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Twisted thoughts escape his dry, cherry red lips; cracked, koolaid stained skin that admit to traumatic events unfolded.
I can’t peel my eyes away from his pale figure; a contrast to his orange get up.
The words smoothly falling out of his mouth, send shivers down my spine.
No one would consider his brain is rattling off recounts of that night while his inner friends help him remember the picture of her body that is burned into his brain- a contorted mind exposed.
Cooked flesh is the aroma he gives off and I gag, he stole my love and her smell still lingers; taunting me of an instance where I couldn’t be a hero.
The gavel pounds down and the cloaked man declares his fate.
As the newly added cold metal traps him into a life of isolation, he looks at me.
His ****** lips curl into a sneer as he is hauled back to hell.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
screaming to nothingness is painful.
my throat is raw,
begging to be felt
tears masking my strength;
blinding my vision.
I cannot be heard but I yell louder.
I’m trying so hard for you.
The nothingness is your deaf ears,
my words falling onto them,
Ignoring my pleas.
Hear me.
Why won’t you listen?
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
The cotton fluff from your sweater,
is stuck between my bitten down nails.
A symbol left behind from a night,
where my integrity was questioned.
Most of the marks you left are permanently scarred in my brain,
I bet your skin is tingling thinking of my touch;
scratching away at your flesh hastily.
The only reason you had to pull away,
was not because of my mantra that sounded so pleasant in your ears,
It was the pain that you couldn’t take;
though I was suffering a lot more.
You called me names because I was fighting for my safety,
the cruel reminders you hissed flooded my ears,
no one would believe me;
I’ll stay silent.
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
If I should have a daughter, instead of Mom, she's gonna call me Point B,
because that way she knows that no matter what happens,
at least she can always find her way to me.
And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands,
so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say,
"Oh, I know that like the back of my hand."
And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face,
wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach.
But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry.
So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming,
I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself.
Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers,
your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried.
"And, baby," I'll tell her, "don't keep your nose up in the air like that.
I know that trick; I've done it a million times.
You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house,
so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him.
Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place,
to see if you can change him."
But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby,
because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix.
Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix.
But that's what the rain boots are for.
Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.
I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me.
That there'll be days like this.
♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫
When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises;
when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape;
when your boots will fill with rain,
and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment.
And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you.
Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.
You will put the wind in winsome, lose some.
You will put the star in starting over, and over.
And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty **** naive.
But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar.
It can crumble so easily,
but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.
"Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more."
Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things.
And always apologize when you've done something wrong.
But don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing.
And when they finally hand you heartache,
when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat,
you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.
-Sarah Kay
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC
If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
You can let them look at you.
But do not mistake eyes for hands or windows or mirrors.
Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may have not ever seen one before.
If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
You can let them touch you.
Sometimes, it is not you they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle, a door, a sandwich, a Pulitzer — another woman.
But their hands found you first.
Do not mistake yourself for a guardian or a muse or a promise or a victim or a snack.
You are a woman — skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat.
You are not made out of metaphors, not apologies, not excuses.
If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
You can let them hold you.
All day they practice keeping their bodies upright.
Even after all this evolving it still feels unnatural.
Still strains the muscles, hold firms the arms and spine.
Only some men will want to learn what it feels like to curl themselves into a question mark around you,
Admit they do not have the answers they thought they would by now.
Some men will want to hold you like the answer.
You are not the answer.
You are not the problem.
You are not the poem or the punch-line or the riddle or the joke.
Woman, if you grow up the type men want to love,
You can let them love you.
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean after years of puddle jumping.
It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.
Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of women men will hurt.
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean even after it has left you gasping — "salty."
So forgive yourself for the decisions you've made.
The ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night and know this:
Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You are born to build.
-Sarah Kay
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 11:15 PM UTC
She is my therapeutic recipe of beautifully placed atoms.
A wonderful arrangement of parts, wound together with love and kindness, hidden behind a fake smile and shy eyes.
her mind a mess with cigarette smoke and memories, brought back to haunt her through lonely nights.
But it is here, in the mind, where she creates the most extraordinary things. Poems and word arrangements in ways I never could, expressing such deep emotions, that bleed from the page. Every word elegantly feeding into the next, delicately woven to appeal to the reader, I could get lost in those lines for hours.
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC