kbww - Hello Poetry

kbww Oct 2018

Sometimes
I wonder
How it feels
To write a poem
The whole world can read.
Good thing I write
All these words
Solely for
Me.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

Soul Cannibal

My soul is a cannibal.
Eats my words,
spits them out on a page
in such a delicate way
that I don’t even
know
the words aren’t mine.
They belong to the cannibal,
not my intelligent mind.
I regurgitate its’ feast
in slowly played rhymes.
And every shot at my soul
creates a hole
in my brain.
I’ve tried
to become
linguistically anorexic
to starve the monster
and no longer write
so it has nothing to
bite.
But the clamoring thoughts,
like a symphony of bells,
calls my soul to dinner,
and keeps my words
spilling
out of it’s ugly mouth.
I just hope someone hears
me in the writings
before hell drives me south
and the soul’s mouth
reaches up
for my heart.
The end will
be my start.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

Be True

I thought we could
                          Be
but your love is a lie.
Your words weren’t
                          True
mouth open, glazed eyes.
I’ll send you
                          To
the landfill of my heart.
You protect
                          Yourself
yet tear me apart.
I look at you
                          And
find myself learning more.
You weren’t
                          The
one, and I won’t settle for
another day without
                          Rest
not another sleepless night.
This testing of
                          Will
I’ve lost this fight.
I can no longer
                         Follow
you into the dark.
I will walk in the light,
and find a new spark.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

Invisibly Visible

I’m almost invisible
like a blind hem stitch.
Like the world is deaf
but I sing in perfect pitch.
A girl without arms
yet I hold on to everything.
A lover for a lifetime
with no wedding ring.
An exquisite ballerina
without any toes.
A runway model
without any clothes.
I’m standing in front of you
but you move right through me.
A tormented ghost
with no haunting ability.
Undetectable, unseen,
like ultraviolet light.
In daytime I sleep
and appear in twilight.
The only person able
to create shadows at night.
Silently choking on black,
face a sickly pale white.
With the thinnest of instruments
I thicken the plot.
A partial lobotomy
and I’m full of free thought.
My darkened grey matter gone,
color returns to my face.
The invisible girl
has been visibly erased.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

Cold

It’s cold here,
in every sense of the word.
Visible breaths and invisible threats.
I want to go home.
This hasn’t been home for years,
yet here I am in tears,
trying to remember moments
before everything fell apart.
Forgetting is an art,
and I’ve done it well.
But I can’t erase the hell
this place carried me through.
And then I remember,
home isn’t much better,
because I follow me there.
Maybe the temperature and memories
aren’t so cold.
It’s just my heart,
and my poor, glacial soul.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

Leaving a Monster

I wanted to bash my phone against my
skull until the right words could
fall out and you’d finally understand
because obviously what came out
of my mouth wasn’t clear enough for you. Sigh.
And all I ended up saying was sorry.
I took what should’ve been
your guilt and shame
and I owned it, along with my own.
And now you’re right, once again,
and the cycle continues
of this back and forth chess match of opposing opinions, except,
no matter the moves,
you get checkmate every time,
even if your King’s not even
on the board.
I’m bored of feeling disrespected
and called stupid.
I am lost in this relationship and
at a loss for words.
This present circumstance
is not what I wanted,
but thank you for the gift,
of knowing that I’m strong enough
to walk away,
despite your vile strategies
that keep me close to a monster.

~kb

kbww Oct 2018

A Fight With The Mirror

I don’t really care for
who’s in the mirror.

Her eyebrows are weird
Her face far from clear.

Scars from picking at blemishes
hyper-pigmentation from the sun.

Her straw textured hair
falling out one by one.

Her eyes aren’t too bad
with those forever long lashes.

But she smiles yellow teeth
and her chipped front tooth flashes.

If I could only find a way
to make the mirror different

I can change the girl I see
into someone magnificent.

But the mirror stays in place
I can only change me.

I can paint a face on
become a bit bourgeoisie.

And be ok with the mirror
and with who I see

No longer the unpleasant
static version of me.

A wipe of a cloth
and some cool degreasing water

And I’m back to repugnance
at the lies that bought her.

The ones that told her beauty
inside was cheap.

Only the outside mattered
where the makeup can seep

Down into her soul
and tell her lies she believes

That she’s not good enough
that there is no reprieve.

She desperately needs to
look past the mirror

And see the parts of her
that aren’t so clear.

The constant love, praise
and adoring recognition

She’s seen through her whole life
needs to reach her cognition

To understand

That the beauty she cannot
see in a mirror

Is the beauty that will actually make
the mirrored image more clear.

~kb