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

I’m collecting bags.
Not just under my eyes but
in every part of my soul.
Varying weights, like me
on psych meds.
They all hold their place
And fill up with scars
or love or hope or maybe
just some fresh fruit.
My soul market has everything
that I need.
When I bleed it has bandaids
and beer and ****.
Anxiety’s bag is so colorful
and shakes right on cue.

Then there’s you.

Your bag is the largest,
yet totally empty, not even memories
spill from the bag to my brain,
Gosh, it used to drive me insane
the way you went about life
like nothing had happened.
Like seven years just flurried
away, like a bag in the wind,
creates a deafening sound
because I just want it to be
your bag floating around or
down on the ground but
it stays within me.
Empty and cold.
The pollution you’re causing,
it’s just, getting old.

~kb

How can something so dead pull me completely in.
The stars: long gone, luminesce and I’m drawn to their haunting pearl glow
and they capture my soul,
they see right through me. How can something untouchable know
I’m ripe for the taking?
That my heart’s been torn out and beaten and bruised, I’ve been used and
my soul opened up and poured out everything I’m about,
every part of my being for everyone
to take pieces
and put them in their pockets.
Shocked at how honest these stars
seem to be and telling me that my soul covers no ground in my body.
Like I didn’t know.
But I love stars for that reason: to be my reminder that,
even dead,
I can refill my soul with their glow.

~kb

Blood: the weary ghost.
Tears: the weary heart.
Lies: the weary truth

They never saw what she could’ve been.

Grave: just the weary

I’ve stepped through the electric
Metal truth indicator
I’m clean, no obscene
Objects stuck to my being.
Walk through a black crowded scene
And make my way to the bar
One beer tipped hard no holds barred
No regard for my liver tonight
Tonight is reprieve healing scars
Travel once again through the energized
Black wearing teeth glaring
Yet blank distorted faces
I’m not here to make friends
I’m here to melt places people and things
To feel strings tie wings make me feel
Everything
The lights dim a black wave moves the room
I plant my feet close my eyes
Feel my body swoon
Then a tune floods stale air
Hits me deep lifts the room
Lifts my worries and fears
And the people around leave the ground
And I feel like I am alone with the sounds
Hits me straight in the gut
like a shot off round
And I feel my own feet glued to the ground

The only thing that’s ever
been clever enough to break my
Tough interior and inferior self
Is the feeling of music flooding my soul
The only thing that can ever fill that hole
Is the sounds of notes mingling sweetly
In a pleasant dance that swallows me whole

~kb

Feet hang lazily
As I finish my stitching
Canvas skin limp limbs

Burnt leaves for a brain
A heavy hinged hollow box
Becomes a fresh heart

I’ve sewn me a boy
One that cannot run away
One that wants to stay

I program his mind
To connect only with mine
Lock love in the box

Run hands down the threads
Awaken him from his sleep
Eyes open in fear

Graze hands down soft throat
Stir his chords let him speak free
Fill lungs with a kiss

It’s my ragdoll boy
My best friend and my lover
And I have his key

He just looks at me
“Don’t be scared you are my love”
I tell him gently

“What am I doing?
I’m not supposed to be here
I don’t even know you”

Desperate staring
He looks scared and so confused
I don’t understand

“I stitched you gently
You are my perfect man now
Together in love

You will be happy
I can show you everything
I will be your muse”

I filled up his mind
Put all my love in his heart
What did I do wrong?

“My love cannot be
Forced by you or your stitches
Or locked in a box

My mind is my own
I don’t want you to change it
I want to be me

You cannot just make
The perfect boy to love you
Life doesn’t work that way”

I shuddered with chill
My own stitched up heart races swells
Tingles to the tips

I split the seams open
Rip out the tattered heart box
Watch him hit the floor

My hands are tremors
Shaking over the keyhole
I open the box

Nothingness and hollow
Dirt hinges and fine cracks
Have emptied my love

I had filled the box
With all of my own soul’s love
So now I’m empty too

I will lay down now
Next to my tattered doll boy
Together in heartlessness

Within my soul’s death
A black truth that I cannot
Make someone love me

Mind scurries with thoughts
That I cannot love myself
And that’s the worst part.

~kb

Take me back to the beginning.
When the air was pure
and my head spinning.
A whirlwind of ideas,
honest goals and dreams.
A simple piece of paper
Becomes more than it seems.
A new light up yo-yo,
A fresh pack of Pez.
Red Rover, four square,
And Simon Says.
Red light, green light,
Time stood still.
Fully in the moment,
Capturing each thrill.

The days became shorter,
Time a constant state of living.
Red lights and green lights
Between tired eyes start dimming.
Air is black with soot
The pollution not only
From the cars and the buses
But from the sad sick and lonely.
Money suddenly a problem
When it didn’t exist before.
Princess castles
Have riches galore.
And at the end of the story,
Love had always prevailed.
Now a bright glowing screen
Excites loves’ tall tales.

And I stir here alone,
Head still spinning.
Counting the ways my goals dwindled,
How many new beginnings
Have altered that innocence
That used to seep through my pores.
The world closes in,
And I shut every door.

If I could just find that girl
That is hidden within.
Tell her to come out and play,
That the world needs her grin,
Her purest heart,
And unrelenting zest
For another new beginning,
Another path on this quest.
I could keep the doors shut
And live isolated.
It’s become comfortable here
Reminding myself I’m just jaded.


I’ve done that for too long.
Time to unlock all doors,
And hold on to hope
That I find her once more.
She can bust through the hinges
And sweep me away
To all the goals and the dreams
I’ve kept hidden away.

I missed you today.
At the coffee shop.
On the bus.
In my chair at the office.
I wanted to say
Yes I’m feeling on top.
There’s a seat here for both of us.
Doing well, uh oh, here come the bosses.

I sat there all day.
I looked up every minute.
Stirred hands across the keyboard
I wanted to be in it,
Involved in this life and the people
And plans.
But all I do is keep tight lipped
With tremors for hands.
Spider webs for brains
And an undisciplined bladder.
And when I get up to go, it didn’t seem
To matter.

We say fake goodbyes
And look down at our shoes
As if clues to these blues would just
Jump out in twos.
But not even two, not even one.
There are no clues
It’s in front of our faces.
The glow of a screen
Humanity erases.

I missed you today, at all of those places.
Because every single stranger had buried
Their faces.
Not one smile or hello or greeting.
And this is now how people are meeting.
You don’t know I’m having a rough time.
I could speak up.
but I see your headphone lines.
Eyes fixed ears shut.

I just wanted someone
To acknowledge me a short while.
But we’re so disconnected,
I can’t even get a smile.
~kb

Zippered down the front
Easy access
The poppies return for their dance
A soothing lightning of drip and dilation
Night is day, night is night
Night is hope that the last of days has passed
A wash of whitewater ecstasy, engulfs
The throat
The body
Catapults to the head
A fall back to sunken eyes staring at the upside down right side up
Fright
Calm and fright intwined
in a lovers’ waltz
I can’t breathe
I’m so free
I can’t breathe
I’m so...
Free
My body is yours now
It always has been
But I, dead, am a far easier doll to play with
Than one with open stitches

             -k b~