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keni Jan 2022
No, I gave up.
Concept that I cant swallow
Because it swallows me.
Like the time I'd ask for
Things and the answer was
To think older.

Now, I still think the same.
A child who cant fend for themselves,
or
Speak in manner,
or
Right
or
Securely attached to the
Rope of ideas and hopes.

When the music
Is over and the repeating
Screeching sound of
The needle on the record I
Ask,
"Selfish to ask
for it to stop?"

Thorns are stuck onto
My foot as I walk.
And I am a forest
and I am the fire.

Lack of oxygen on a Tuesday afternoon, still forest burns.
keni Jan 2022
To impress the souls
that bare their
pace in these
crowded hallways.

Uneasy blue,
fluorescent lights.
You suddenly walk slowly.
A side eye, a glimpse,
of a crescent moon
that won't dare change direction.

Grief, jealousy, disappointment.
My gown glowing.
Standing feeling weak.
The walls are loud.

Walking away like
the contact of our eyes,
"I lost something."
But remembering
calls you, and I have
lost you.
keni Mar 2022
I heard from a musician
cities ​with awful music and
Timid corners- will dry
your pores leaving your
face chalky and unwell.

To do what a musician
does and mix it with
Bone and tendons that makes this
Scramble of feelings that swell.
Oh alexander... This middle name.

I was told I looked like Kimi but
I guess I act as if the luck of my penny
From my loafers were gone.
Oh Alexander my luck is gone.

Can you hear the plead of my dreams.
I dream of fragments of war, my wonder
Of a pearl that I see glow, that I've let roll.

In truth I write Alexander
To somehow let you linger
And maybe I'll pretend like
I've never had to let you go.
keni Apr 2022
Like those foul
Smelling flowers
That seem perfect along
The sidewalk of a suburban house
The air and soft strawberry light
I feel like them.
Ruining the experience in hope that I too bring something to the picture.
keni Jan 2022
The sounds that hit my eardrum,
requiem on water,
and I listen through the night to ease my thoughts.
because to dream again is a never-ending goal.

To go insane is short for my needs:
It's the true that I paddle alone,
I'm not meant to be next to you

The long curtains reveal!
Scenery of my thoughts
Where I hid for the winter a year later,
The next door neighbors and the dogs.

The cold makes our breaths smoke us inside in this january night.
The time has consumed me,
that time,
I wish I had with you
but let's start with forever.
keni Feb 1
I just want to look into the sun
sinking down.
many people want run
striking down.
I just want to wake up to sun
hear the fabulist sing
and maybe know I understand.

I just want to walk around the sun.
I've been thinking about cycling.
keni Dec 2021
In the winter  you go
went south of here.
A place where my parents grew up.
Where spring is always.

Bye bye black
chinned hummingbird
I'll tell mom you left
so that they can have
want you wanted.

When the breeze is sweet,
and maybe bit melancholic,
You'll come back to
flowers that bloom.

Now don't you worry
if they don't love you.
You're back black chinned
hummingbird and I welcome
you again.
10:28 am
keni Nov 2023
Have your atoms
soaked in mist of another
finally given up on you?

Is it true that the collision of us
is etermal in this universe;
when there's more space to
cover the surface of your superficial love.

Tell me then, why don't you
eat the pulp of it all.

Then again, you were merciful to me
and not to those around you.
Should that be a crime to me?
keni Jan 2023
Although I might’ve drowned
I can assure you
That now I can breathe  
And the air is crisp.
I think that I am good
Finally without you boiling the water around me.
I am good without
You.
keni Oct 2021
"can you be mine?"
In soft spoken words at the end
of the staircase
her face puffed
her eyes red and awake
they glistened with the emotion
that i didn't want to see
rather looking into her
eyes  i was looking at
myself in her eyes
She teared and cried
her knees weak
fell like i had devestated her
I wasn't in love and she wasn't in luck
1:22pm
keni Sep 2021
A complete pie with bits of filling
it's closed and shut, it has the taste of bitter apple
bitter bitter like the hands of someone
sweet sweet like the glance of someone
the words that don't stay where do they go

And yet if they left why would I look
into someones eyes or the mouth of a shark
bitter like you or the sting left behind
sweet like the words that linger in my mouth
the language we shared that we can only understand
bitter bitter cariño why can't you demand
10:04 am
keni Mar 23
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.
keni Dec 2021
Jane can be on the 13th floor
and I am waiting.
Jane can be looking at the floor
and I am standing at the door.

Everyone else does,  Jane,
Someone ought to say.
"I can't get get out of bed."
It's obvious to say its sane

Yes, the doubt catches me
but I just like you jane,
like everyone else does.
10:29 I've never met a jane but I bet she has red hair like mj from spiderman
keni Oct 2021
My mouth is shut
it asks more than it needs
I give what you ask
my love, is it the way my body moves?

In the time of winter I am shaken
by the fog in my dreams
The grass is moist and so I sink
I slow you down dont I?
my love
keni Sep 2021
The rain drips
It drips one by one
Hitting my face
One by one
Down an empty street
Lightning flashes one
By one over and over
The bakery down
Two blocks
November rain
And the pieces of bread
With my hand on yours
And drip the rain goes sliding
Past your shoulders
The drip goes as it falls
Between the glances of lightning
I reminded that in November
I walk with my shadow in a birthday
In this soil and I dry again.
Two years ago I ate bread while walking home from school for my birthday.
10:46 am
keni Jan 2022
Stick around your mouth.
Trails of aroma smolder you hair.
Not tangled, and not fixed.

Who do you know,
back that carries trees
and maybe the history.

Blackmail, slick
slippery goon,
who stalked her moon.

Strange days, those
I found out,
that followed gaze of  
psychedelic rock was not
an excuse to follow.

Stanger is the fool,
the danger,
going home paranoid
what a lovely smell,
dammed.
10:37
Gia
keni Apr 2021
Gia
how to be wanted
like
curves sculpted by an artist
a lover with a paint brush
wondering what goes wrong by sunrise
a stroke with your hand
the air so fine and heavy
as our breaths pace and dogs bark
the fence behide us
if the eyes of someone struggling to understand
how to be loved.
Drink water
:)
gin
keni Sep 2021
gin
If an age to indulge is a santifictation
then what prohibits the love for war
the children that cry in the hands
of those with lack of affection
What is the difference of a man who starves and
the ego of one who fasts
the taste of
keni Oct 2023
When I leave I find the peace
in a world where I choose
where to be how to be
I have yet to settle.

When November comes around
I can only think of death.
The arms of faith and the past.  
One can fear the endless nights
but I've found that fearing the truth
of one that has lost its other fragment
is the more excruciating death.

When the only thing left is is looking at
the remaining pieces of a constant.
Something that will never change
But I tie it to things I can't get a grip on.

so tell me now, if it can only be
when the overwhelming feeling of the night
takes over.
With cold front,  a kiss from a stranger,  and wandering mind can end this bending of time inside of my womb.
keni Dec 2021
The left hand with scars,
Similarly, the sun that sets
On an august afternoon.

Turns the buildings orange.
On these days the bags I carry are light,
Maybe something is stuck.

Going home along a path,
You’ve chosen once to go with me.
It catches upon my throat.  
Like the sunset they hide.

Maybe it’s fear of the weak,
But I’ve come to the conclusion that being weak
Makes the greatest leaders.
In a sense they know how it feels
To have the world look down on them.
So walking down that path of shame and light
Is it another day, to crumble?
11:12 am
keni Dec 2021
There are rocks in my shoes,
Flock of birds sparse around.
The cracks in the spruce trees,
Are homes.

Lake water, folding chairs, and nooks.
Coats, warm, wet, uncomfortable.
Panting dogs, and clocks that have hit 6
Before 5.

Taking the rage out, the lamps,
Cables tied, you.
Eucalyptus, daisies, and ***.
Your ribs,
Hanging.
And tumbling of them hit the nerves on the right foot.
10:24 am
keni Jan 2022
Gates that seemed too short.
Woman who speaks
on your behalf I came to see.
The bone colored outside.

Tinted windows and a mist
Of your washed hair.

We walked as three
As we waved goodbye to
The mellow tree.

And when were alone
You'd laugh when your
neck tingled

Jammed and dammed
Days before school.
Longing for it to go away.

Heavenly scent Laundromat.
I am not in the picture yet
true cicadas were quiet.
keni Dec 2021
When rain miraculously touches your body
isn't turned into glass.
The constant gaze of rivalry.
Barefoot across the fields you run,
Nails in a dream.

Barebones,you, against
the water,dreaming,
pearls in the night
"Dancing in the courtyard."

"You stand out", they tell you.
Tight passages that murmur,
the sound of your steps
I yearn for walls to not mimic them

"Dancing around the corner."
Pearls on her neck, chained,
You too, seem to enjoy the attention.
Maybe, "I stand out to her."
10:44 am
keni Jan 2023
It's not my fault they repeat,
they chant, it in the air and it grasps my hair.
and maybe across my heart, I wish it was.
Then I would hate, yes, I would scream, cry, point at that thing.
Instead, now I do it all at the person who I don't even know
And maybe it was late when I clung onto him as his hands caressed my face and got tangled in my hair.
the lies of a liar never end in this
everlasting affair.

Although the truth always comes to float,
a giant hole was punched through me.
I felt as if my life had thrown me back to
the crowd's fallen hurdle and cynical laughter.
The person I envisioned in my future, that person I
wanted to smell through my pores wasn't there next to me.

Although the trees choose what leaves fall, winter is melancholic.
It is expected spring and summer, but what is it about my leaf?
My dear, the expected, the promised.  
Now that I had seen its crevices. It was to let go.
Ugly, disturbing, underwhelming, and maybe
a bit rotten.
Where is my summer,
my spring days?
keni Feb 27
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.
keni Jun 17
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
keni Sep 2021
eight hundred meters repeats
one hand over the other
smoothly striding my way down a path of gravel
it crashes with my feet, they are brittle
they crumble and stumble
Hand over the other
breaths that I take and that I forget
that the meadow again blooms  
mouth dry and throat sore
again I am doing what I feel most alive in
one hand over the other
I stride down a mountain  
it takes away from what I can
I build from what I feel
and again I want to leave the comfort
the comfort of being alive
eight hundred meter repeats.
10:05
keni May 2023
At first they stumbled into their seats
And the bus took of from that random street,
I didn’t know it could be sweet; lately it’s been kind of busy.
They chuckled and their eyes creased and oh how nice it must be.
They didn’t speak, later she stood up frantically.
For a few seconds I saw the eyes of a lover who worries for the one
I saw them glance, as in a hurry to dance
But I wasn’t anywhere near that, in fact I was just sitting perpetually waiting for my stop and watching them like swans in a pond.
How I saw them leave in different directions made me weep.
But there is nothing more sweet than seeing it form in others instead of me.
keni Oct 2021
I am walking through
pieces of glass they crumble
my brittle ankles feel the tension
of it as i walk through
where I belive is an alley

The sun is high up
the sweat is catching up to me
there is a woman sitting on the
handlebars of the bike,
the man pedals

they scream and yell
and slowly then the pedaling stops
the glass I walk through is silent to the cries of the woman
angry I don't understand how they could argue in such state
when from afar they looked as if
the wind gave them kisses of goodbyes
and the truth is maybe I had known
how it would end
but as always I prefer my ending
10;59 am
keni Nov 2023
Things you should leave alone
I can't tell you what I've done.
I need someone to tell me what to do
what to eat, what to like, when to like, how to like.

as I circle around the circle of gas
twenty times, I am still as lost.
Please don't have a written response.

enjoy your life with her.
keni Jan 2022
They've walked a lot.
They've heard and wondered;
and again in the same spot
jumped and seen.
physiotherapist, they call
the way they move
the emotion through my skin
and I lay as I am eaten all again.
keni Apr 2021
The body of one who has been touched with no feeling
a rage that flows in its deepst grip
clothes are torn and sobs are heard
what is more than the mockery of the Carcass the one who claimed it's dead
the object that died in its ******* of what they feared
To who has heard the mockery of the Carcass
at night by the cemetary
or next door by your fellow neighbor
but do not fear the Carcass is alive
and yet you claim it's dead
for that you do not value it by what it is
but what it has.
keni Mar 28
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.
keni Dec 2021
It's the end
Turning gears
and engines are burned
How can I dream?
Valor you have, to
stand in front of me.

I scream,
you're in the valley,
almost out of spite.
I can live in the sink.
It's cold, and the droplets
of water hit my forehead.

And when the snow sticks,
the water, ice, crack the empty thoughts.
In the middle my cranium.
Making space in
this place to play.

Your valley is lonely,
but the air surrounding you.
The mist and fog.  
In fields of ***** gold.
The sun kisses you
as it sleeps early.

It ate me,
and I gauge my eyes.
My presence is minute,
and at fault
the droplets are insignificant
to what perjurer turned to be.

oblivious to my words
your sleep is the same
and on days the fields aren't ***** gold,
You prance around.
1:33
keni Nov 2021
The hair in your face separates lightly
looking down at your shoes.
The ringing noise
of the background
characters we are
and it seems we enjoy the silence
the wet floors and high light.
Sometimes walking past the same streets
your scent still lingers
it twists and turns making my stomach churn.
Sleepy eyes that look like a falling moons
I wish sometimes to rest in them
Again your image still is not faded
  incompatible with the reality
That you are you and I am.
As I chose my escape over your coven
Where I was merely decoration to your light.
11;27 pm
sometimes you don't regret but still feel a rue for what you see
Nan
keni Feb 2022
Nan
It's only right to let
you celebrate, the
freedom that will go-
that you deserve.

Visions I see,
it's only right to keep
you blind. Play with
you, playdate.

Stillness of nameday,
shame that your name
isn't truly yours
but a reminder
of a tragedy
keni Feb 2022
Vanity of the boys,
cascading tears and
the hair that moves
along orange zest
and spiral ends.

Although the sun shines
through one side
of the everlasting,
orange. We move,
we rotate.

The faces change.
Your shoulders hunch.
But the moon was
once a plump orange.
keni Dec 2021
Ridges preserved to notice the value of you.
Beggars on the street have sweet words.
Lure you in to give them you.

Days pass, and shavings of you are missing.
Flat, rustic, disharmonize.
I only see you some days.
On others you are passed around.

Taproots that grow in me.
Ink on paper, sitting in the corner.
Walking in and out.
A gasp,
A glance,
It's love of short time.
keni Jan 2022
Glistening asphalt,
Oil, concrete and direction.
Hands that hold the hole
Together In the
most hurtful way.

Bird of prey.
Flock your way.

Sticky, slimy, and unyielding.
Things between my arms
Yanking the human in me.

Concrete and asphalt
Roads, im stuck in the middle
Of the words.
8:48
keni Feb 2021
To be quite honest I don’t know.
I have no apples for tomorrow
I am the pillow of my friends
And the willow for the pests
I am the chipped nail on my left hand
And I don’t clean under my bed
I don’t want you to see me
And I don’t want you to hear me
I just need to know everything about me
To be
keni Feb 2022
Flat yellow ground
The prairie I've known,  
the old and new grounds.
Walking away from the lonesome day.  
I've asked with a whimsical rays
like as of basquiat.

The green of the night
follows the yellow of the
everlasting warmth
surrounding the north.
The chant of the wind
and its sores in the afternoon.
I'm not there but
"Oh, I'd like to see it once more."
keni Jan 2022
I drain from my teeth,
the gesture of the chew
the spitting it out with a
handful of them dry.

                         Jolting verses from the steps
                         down the empty downtown.
                         Acting career in a city where,
                         Everyone carries their words
                                                                                  Lightly and tight.
                                                                                  My passion is an
                                                                                  Apartment with a
                                                                                  a tiny door and one
                                                                                           burner.
11:24 am
keni Feb 2022
Swings of a dance,
the tap, and the movement
take the sleep of a girl.
Creativity in its crevices.

When the dancing is over it is followed by the darkness of the drawing hands.
Hands that serve her wrist and nothing else.  And when you wonder if the souls are ready to take you,
the crisis is over but the mania begins.

Letting the waves reach me, I've let people go in fear of my own luck to let them drown. When the doctor tells you it's not you but a little man inside of you, you look back at those you've hurt.

Wondering if, If I met this little man before those I've loved dearly would I have loved them differently?
keni Sep 2021
The water that goes in
and out of my body
the soft spoken words
that reach my tounge
I stare at the door and he stares at me
I am no opening
nor ending and yet,
I hate the color of anger and
the color of rebellion
in the same way
I hate violence
I hate the color of blood
the choice of liking something became clear
When you have no choice you choose a path
When theres two you question
when there's five you question
I hate the color red in the
same way I hate lust
I hate the color red the
same way I hate you
And I came not hate red anymore
in the mornings instead
I look up and I came to
think that I don't hate red but
the misery of me.
I hate the color red
11:06
shy
keni Oct 2021
shy
to her the nights were too loud,
the rain too harsh
the silence she keeps,
the way she moves,
and the glitch
in which her face turns,
in all she dislikes
her voice unheard.
10:15 am
keni Jan 2023
Pero que la piel se quede asi,
de leche y azucar.
El tono de tu ser en el viento
se da a un tono rojizo.
Aun que la lluvia moje tu cabello
y se vuelva el color  mas cercano a el amanacer
que quiebra la luz.
Rayos cerca de mi, para mi.

Lo pienso y lo que quiero.
Si tu me viste ese dia, y tu pretendes
ser alguin indifferente. Talvez tendre que
ver el azul de tus ojo una vez mas.

Y cuando pases a lado de mi tendre girar
y decirle al viento suavemente las minimas
palabras que quiero que escuches.
keni Oct 2021
In many tries
to hide, I've had
a rose. I let it
go once in a while
but girls I know
comeback to ask
me why the rose
is so pretty

"i can almost
steal it from you"
i am not the gardener
nor the owner
and yet the rose
depends on me

in a trapnest ive
held the rose so close
and i've tried to let it
go to the girls who
laugh and grin
to something thats mine
but not quite. I am not
a gardener but the truth is
i  like to control
the rose and i have
kept it  close in fear
of loosing it.
keni Mar 2022
I read again after awhile.
It tasted the same as I had expected.
Sand was used to describe the way
Time moves, the past, the present,
The future.

Melancholic the sob I stuck.
The back of my itching throat-
Waiting for the pandora box to open.

Warm sections of the everlasting winter
And chilling nights of the blink of a summer.
We grow and our cells break, die, and regenerate.

I wish to make the sand chronicle lay down
So that time would be equally distributed on the past and future. Where, the narrow passage of the present is a chamber for one's perceptions.

In an unusual way I learned again to cherish the love that flows like a heat wave in traffic.
When reading the lines of someones life in paper.
I read this story/ comic/ manga called sand chronicles. It was a hurricane emotions I couldn't deal with and yet the pages turned. It made me feel young and old at the same time and made me cry as if I was able to see for the first time in months.
keni Jan 16
I tried again to tie my shoes
I tried to not get them in the mud
and I tried to be the one to tidy the sole
but all over again I notice it's the same pair I've been wearing for so long.
keni Feb 2022
Wondering if I'm still
in the same road I chose
If I were to land in the
same quadrant
as you told me,
in that poem.

Petals had heard better lies
like the summer's betrayal
home I was,
walking as one.

Andromeda was hopeless,
as the waves took me back
and the maroon colored sea
and I lay on the petals.

To vandalize my life,
the leafs know my name,
Treachery, my friends, again.
So I wait on the petals
so they suffocate me.
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