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kbww Jun 2019
I lie upon a table, open to the world.
Fingers slowly straighten,
losing anxious gripping curves.
Gentle hands behind my head,
I’ve been told this may be rough,
but something deep inside this soul
has had about enough.
Let me fall into
the darkest places webbed and trapped.
When I come out bathed in tears
I’ll have a better guided map.

He presses on my head,
and I breathe and count to three.
The rest of my experience
is no longer up to me.
He says: find a happy place,
notice all the smells.
The noises and the feeling
of a comfort I know well.

I fall onto the floor
of my late Grandmother’s home,
the place I never wondered
if I’d ever feel alone.
His pressure becomes greater,
and the darkness takes its shape.
The bed she lay upon,
her last breaths while not awake.
I am there beside her now,
but lie in trance from brain control.
The sadness becomes worse
and emotion takes its toll.
A snap of gentle fingers
and I’m suddenly awake.
Face is drenched in tears
and I’m far from feeling safe.

The doctor looks at me
and asks me softly how I feel.
I say I don’t know why,
but I fear what he’s revealed.
I ascend up from the table,
dry my face and soaking ears,
I know I will stay stuck
if I keep in all these fears.
Bearing through the pain
of reliving blocked off issues,
I tell him next appointment,
I’ll bring my own tissues.

-kb


*A true story about emotional healing and Cranio Sacral therapy
kbww Jun 2019
I try to find the words,
yet they escape me every time.
Fixated on the tempo,
always mindful of the rhyme.
The meaning gets distorted,
like I’m speaking different tongues.
Understanding eludes speech,
wasting breath from broken lungs.
Conveying ruthless pain
comes out rather unconvincing.
Confused at my attempt,
you scoff at me simply existing.

Minute to second living
is the first choice that I have.
Other ways of coping
seem so wasted and so sad
Spoken was this truth:
The hardest fight is with myself.
Your understanding will not save me,
so put my book back on the shelf

~kb
kbww May 2019
Exhausted beyond measure
yet the days are keeping time
Idled in the pleasure
of a soft unspoken rhyme
Dripping through the letters
seeps a meaning I call mine
Uninterested in whether
words can easily combine

~kb
kbww May 2019
Twitch and the itch is stitched through my nerves the curves of endless verve intwined my mind laced signs of insane a brain tainted and lame from the same elixirs to fix her tiny powder tricksters losing sisters testing brothers working father worried mother and the other friends and foes they don’t know how low my heart’s gone wall up armor on whisper songs to tin plates hide my face stay in place until the wolves go away

~kb
kbww Mar 2019
Fear is my fuel;
love is my fear

~kb
kbww Mar 2019
Everything’s offensive,
thoughts are too pensive
Enraged and defensive:
Tell me how to speak

Breath lined with tall fences
ablating my sentence
so it doesn’t mention
words you find so bleak

Won’t change up my ways
so the ears in your day
hear the right thing to say
I’ll take your critique

**** being offended
Your life hasn’t ended
See how these amended
words make you so weak

~kb
kbww Mar 2019
You’re a pacifist yet,
war sins in your skin
Mist of sick sweat
thin and diluted
Voice has been muted
Clued in and clueless,
opinions are useless
Divisions of truths
and selfish intentions
used and mentioned
to muse attention
in confused directions
Not a fuse or spark
can perfuse the dark
misused as protection

~kb
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