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kenia Aug 14
I walked by our hometown.
The chills ran through my hands
as the soft fabric of the clothing
met the cold hanger.

Leaving that store surrounded by
familiar faces I started to see.

I walked as though you were here.
Turned to cross the street looking
for your car as if you still had the same one.
Odd but true, the lights of your house were still on
I wondered if everything is exactly where it should be.

Because as I walked I knew
that the distance and years
could not melt away the next day.

I would go to San Francisco
just to hear your name.
The most loved stranger I know.
I know this is personal, but I wanted to share. I went through a difficult breakup, one that still haunts my narrative. Unfortunately, he no longer lives near. Our relationship was like best friends that didn't know how to adjust through college and distance,
so we kept our relationship on and off for a long time. Leading us to eventually call it quits for our own mental health. In each phase of this, though he moved ,to different places and so did I.  I found out he was living in San Francisco and it ached a bit. I know it wasn't my fault and a choice he made, but I couldn't help but think each time we broke up, he chose to create a more distant and real life for himself. I am incredibly proud of the man he is. One that follows ambition and dreams. But I also just want to remember the place where we could've been.
kenia Dec 2024
Just in a gallon the smell of you on a shelf,
I have lost the way back from that scent,
I have grown and ached from that day,
I have yearned for the scent even if I deny it.

It gets me off guard when the elevator
opens and the air fills my
nostrils with you again.

Saying hello to the past
swaying away in an instant
never grasping the truth.
kenia Jun 2024
she works at 17
watching her mother suffer
watching her sister play
watching the dogs bark

when the kids have had their fun
and the slient day returns
there’s only room for mistake
as she grows older than 17

I remember that age
feeling the paper like sanding paper
and the flies like pigeons inside the house
without money to support the whole family
without a family to support the animals

a dad without a job
a sister without a degree
and maybe her moms dreams were the only thing real
kenia Mar 2024
Why must god make me beautiful
in the darkest places of my life.

I can’t imagine peace and beauty in one place.
Only melancholy and a glazed face.

Why is that the puffed face
red eyes, and quivering lips
Get the attention of passerby’s in hope i am that art gallery.

why must god make us like pearls in the night.
Taken for granted, and used to bring something to the picture.

Let me go of this horror and let my mind rest and rot.
if all I can be is a well painted canvas, with a hole on the other side.

let it be ugly then ?
for that too is freedom, and beauty cannot be taken for granted without what I feel.
kenia Mar 2024
Time is a construct.
When there is a certain time that comes.

It obstructs our perception.
We want to run away.
We want to find the exit.
And somehow still bring ourselves in one piece.

I'm in a world that is  breaking
my heart.
kenia Feb 2024
Looking at pictures i saw
what i thought could’ve been me.
I have this exact feeling over and over.
Strangers and passersby
yet i question the sanctity of it all.
A slight hint of difference in the shape, a
slight improvement on the face.
Maybe the way her hair falls.
It runs so deep now,
but how could i have known
i was next to be destroyed inside
by a man that can’t hide his most ugly side.
kenia Feb 2024
The dust mites like to eat.
The moths like to feast.
I tried to feed them
I tried to give them.

Glory, glory, glory
can you make the gory sight go away?

The mice trickled down my spine
and every time the sound of wet
chewing of paper wrappers under
the counter, I cover my ears.
I can't face the sob story.

You, with your mask, so sly,
Return only when I've said goodbye.
When I'm fine, standing tall and true,
You reappear, like a ghost, out of the blue.
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