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"kalena" poems
The lights swimming in my head look like shimmering fish. I’m underwater. The pressure and the sand are so inviting. To just stay down here and watch the way my fingernails turn into an even paler pink. like my cheeks. when I first fall in love. And my name changes. I’m no longer Kalena. I’ll be whoever you want me to be, baby. Anything at all. If you want me happy I’ll leave the stories at home. Home. She’s bipolar and I’m depressed and in love and no one else is. My creases where I carry you are sore from all of your emotion. I’m consumed by your pumping heart and electric nervous system. The one that doesn't come in effect, when I’m around; when I touch you. The rock I sat on today was misted by my thoughts on how you won’t ever see me how I see you than how misted it was by the actual water. My stomach is winding and alls I want to do is shove you inside of me and bite your neck. To this beat. I want you to smile because I make you so **** happy. I’ll give you everything. Everything. I just miss laying on someone’s heart beating life into them. And wishing and praying you’re another thing beating the life in their entire being. I want your finger tips and valves. watch thousands of you bloom. watch that look boys give to pretty girls falling over your face with every birth. So I won’t ever worry about you dying. About losing you. Because I’ll just plant you when I need eyelashes to kiss. Or fingernails to chew and paint. Maybe I’ll just live through you. Call you my tree of life. Tree of life. I don’t even like trees all that much.
0
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 8:45 PM UTC
drugs
The lights swimming in my head look like shimmering fish. I’m underwater. The pressure and the sand are so inviting. To just stay down here and watch the way my fingernails turn into an even paler pink. like my cheeks. when I first fall in love. And my name changes. I’m no longer Kalena. I’ll be whoever you want me to be, baby. Anything at all. If you want me happy I’ll leave the stories at home. Home. She’s bipolar and I’m depressed and in love and no one else is. My creases where I carry you are sore from all of your emotion. I’m consumed by your pumping heart and electric nervous system. The one that doesn't come in effect, when I’m around; when I touch you. The rock I sat on today was misted by my thoughts on how you won’t ever see me how I see you than how misted it was by the actual water. My stomach is winding and alls I want to do is shove you inside of me and bite your neck. To this beat. I want you to smile because I make you so **** happy. I’ll give you everything. Everything. I just miss laying on someone’s heart beating life into them. And wishing and praying you’re another thing beating the life in their entire being. I want your finger tips and valves. watch thousands of you bloom. watch that look boys give to pretty girls falling over your face with every birth. So I won’t ever worry about you dying. About losing you. Because I’ll just plant you when I need eyelashes to kiss. Or fingernails to chew and paint. Maybe I’ll just live through you. Call you my tree of life. Tree of life. I don’t even like trees all that much.
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1
“every time i feel my stomach convulse it’s a new wave of tears take vitamins, she says you should just eat, she says you got skinnier, another says “eat! eat! haven’t you been eating!? and this bandaid! quit cutting yourself, kalena” and for a moment i think it’s truth i think it’s honest i shout “i do eat! they’re just cat scratches” and if she would have lifted up that bandaid she would have learned it was honest it was truth but it was melted away flesh that she would have found, not torn but melted and in the highlight of this moment i see all of my dreams come true finally, someone notices! finally, someone cares! but yet she’s willing to stop eating. to make sure that i do. my little thing. an entire 98 pounds, not by choice. so unhealthy, so sick. all the time. so **** tired. she would stop eating for me. and though it doesn’t help, the thought is comforting. it should be disturbing. it is. in the way that if she stopped eating… she would lose weight. and then i would fight harder and harder until my rib bones were sticking out so far they were larger than my chest. emaciated. bony fingers that boys don’t want to hold and girls don’t want to kiss. hair that slides out with the slightest tug. no one wants that. except me, of course. i want that. i want to weigh 85 pounds. i want to die. i want to be so high on the emptiness that i die. i faint. and they cannot wake me up. eternal sleep. forever peace. and the best part of all? I would be horrifically tiny in even the smallest coffin. “
0
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 9:01 PM UTC
wacky cake and pizza slices
“every time i feel my stomach convulse it’s a new wave of tears take vitamins, she says you should just eat, she says you got skinnier, another says “eat! eat! haven’t you been eating!? and this bandaid! quit cutting yourself, kalena” and for a moment i think it’s truth i think it’s honest i shout “i do eat! they’re just cat scratches” and if she would have lifted up that bandaid she would have learned it was honest it was truth but it was melted away flesh that she would have found, not torn but melted and in the highlight of this moment i see all of my dreams come true finally, someone notices! finally, someone cares! but yet she’s willing to stop eating. to make sure that i do. my little thing. an entire 98 pounds, not by choice. so unhealthy, so sick. all the time. so **** tired. she would stop eating for me. and though it doesn’t help, the thought is comforting. it should be disturbing. it is. in the way that if she stopped eating… she would lose weight. and then i would fight harder and harder until my rib bones were sticking out so far they were larger than my chest. emaciated. bony fingers that boys don’t want to hold and girls don’t want to kiss. hair that slides out with the slightest tug. no one wants that. except me, of course. i want that. i want to weigh 85 pounds. i want to die. i want to be so high on the emptiness that i die. i faint. and they cannot wake me up. eternal sleep. forever peace. and the best part of all? I would be horrifically tiny in even the smallest coffin. “
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36
that night i cried into your back after kissing all of your moles i whispered secrets into every single touch each being a new word a new syllable i thought about how drunk i was with him how i cannot remember who was on top how in that same setting with those same running veins i cried into the floor after kissing my cell phone about how pretty she was and how pretty i was not. i thought about the night i went into the hospital and how all of the others told me about the writing left underneath the desk in my room how i explained to them that one of the first things i did upon arrival was hide underneath it i found it on my own. i have found so much on my own. i tried to climb the shelves but i fell and almost broke my elbow how interesting of a story that would have been; and how lovely it would have been to tell you on that first evening we met i first noticed the deepness of your voice like the scariest part of the ocean filled with fish with lights swinging from their foreheads to lure in their meals filled with silence and an occasional wisp of a breeze i next noticed your height the tallest boy i have ever gotten to be with. your eyes that night were the most beautiful i felt my existence looking into them i realized where i was and who i was with I realized that I was Kalena. I realized that because of this fact, I had Dylan. I realized that if I was no longer Kalena, or in other terms, I was Kalena after she took a knife to her veins, I would not be Kalena with Dylan. and that broke my heart. it broke my heart that the fact that we might not be together was a possibility. the fact that that might be occurring in a different reality right now i don't want it to exist in any part of the universe in another galaxy i want you in every reality i want you in every cloud's memory seeping from every pine tree and inside of every cave wall, veiled behind a rushing waterfall that people are afraid to get sprayed by. that is how much i want you, Dylan. every single tile on every single bathroom floor every single calendar every single full moon every single sunrise every single loon calling out to its mate no matter how terrifyingly alone that cry sounds i want you there. i want you everywhere. i want you. i want you.
0
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
now you know his name
that night i cried into your back after kissing all of your moles i whispered secrets into every single touch each being a new word a new syllable i thought about how drunk i was with him how i cannot remember who was on top how in that same setting with those same running veins i cried into the floor after kissing my cell phone about how pretty she was and how pretty i was not. i thought about the night i went into the hospital and how all of the others told me about the writing left underneath the desk in my room how i explained to them that one of the first things i did upon arrival was hide underneath it i found it on my own. i have found so much on my own. i tried to climb the shelves but i fell and almost broke my elbow how interesting of a story that would have been; and how lovely it would have been to tell you on that first evening we met i first noticed the deepness of your voice like the scariest part of the ocean filled with fish with lights swinging from their foreheads to lure in their meals filled with silence and an occasional wisp of a breeze i next noticed your height the tallest boy i have ever gotten to be with. your eyes that night were the most beautiful i felt my existence looking into them i realized where i was and who i was with I realized that I was Kalena. I realized that because of this fact, I had Dylan. I realized that if I was no longer Kalena, or in other terms, I was Kalena after she took a knife to her veins, I would not be Kalena with Dylan. and that broke my heart. it broke my heart that the fact that we might not be together was a possibility. the fact that that might be occurring in a different reality right now i don't want it to exist in any part of the universe in another galaxy i want you in every reality i want you in every cloud's memory seeping from every pine tree and inside of every cave wall, veiled behind a rushing waterfall that people are afraid to get sprayed by. that is how much i want you, Dylan. every single tile on every single bathroom floor every single calendar every single full moon every single sunrise every single loon calling out to its mate no matter how terrifyingly alone that cry sounds i want you there. i want you everywhere. i want you. i want you.
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62
I’ll admit to having missed you despite the thorn-tongued remarks "never again" compatibility was inevitable common factors in conversation have two years passed or did we glance away and forget your voice is calming and emotions astonishing brush my hair and tell me stories I will feel inferior in your presence but never more equal with another
0
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC
kalena.
Raudas ir aimanas aidas neša per laukus Žiauru net laukan išėjus paklausyti Beržai verkia, uosiai šniurkščioja, o ąžuolai spiegia Drebulės senai pastipusios O ašaros vienų - tokios saldžios žmonėms Tokios saldžios, kad puotose stiklinėm kalena Ir džiaugiasi šiluma, šie morališkai nusmurgę žmonės Ir juokias kartu žarijose mediena
0
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 5:27 AM UTC
Nukirstų medžių šlamėjimas