"kaylee" poems
I remember being on the softball team at my high school. There was this cute girl that was on the team and I didn't really know her because I pretty much had just transferred to that school. There was always drama going around and I used my old Hello Poetry account as a vent system. I had my account link posted on my other social media but didn't think anyone would actually go to it, but that one girl did!! So one day we were having a short conversation and she said "Oh, I read your poetry. You're really good" ...and I'm like "what!?" Lol, I felt kind of embarrassed but she ended up making an account. I read her poems faithfully and analyzed every line, thinking of why she would say certain things or use certain words. She and I became really close, but closer on Hello Poetry. We basically communicated through poetry. We became a couple, and expressed ourselves to each other in our poetry, argued in our poetry, and told our stories of how we fought to be together in our poetry. So yea, I knew her in person, but I met her on Hello Poetry. And now Kaylee L isn't just my HP friend, but she's also the love of my life.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
I got elbowed in the stomach
At 9 o'clock tonight
I was working
And the woman
I was working for
Stole the wind
Right out of my lungs
And I bit my tongue
And I swallowed blood
Which tasted like
Rusted metal,
Salt water,
And acidic anger
Burning in my gums
I don't get paid enough
To feel like my ribs are breaking;
Trying so hard not to cry
I'm literally shaking
Well, ****
I have no one to talk to
My best friend called
An hour later
To tell me all about
The party she's going to
With kaylee and alexa;
She's dressing as Crown Royal,
I don't know what that means
And I don't ******* care
She doesn't ask how I am
And I don't tell her
She doesn't really wanna know
And I don't really wanna say it
There's a distance
A fluctuation in her voice
That reaches a place
My ears can't get to
I don't hear her sometimes
When she talks about the things
She loves
And I don't know why
Why I'm so disconnected
From twenty-two
I'm not above it-
I like to think I'm not beneath it-
Maybe just floating somewhere
In the atmosphere that surrounds it
My boyfriend is much prettier
Than anything my hands have ever held
And his voice is softer than
The blanket I bought Kiernan
On her birthday,
The one she doesn't use...
He's really deep
When he's sleepy
He makes no judgement
When I'm angry
He isn't coping
With his condition
Lately
But I've never coped with mine
So who am I to mention
I guess I'm just feeling weak
I'm just feeling kinda hazy
I'm just feeling sorta empty
I'm just feeling
Feeling
A little bit
Too much
Feeling
Maybe
Just not enough
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Out of wearing her shoes, Kaylee gets so much pleasure
They're like her gold and glittery treasure
I hear the sound of her heels as she walks down the hall
I think they're about two or three inches tall
I ask to see her shoes and she sticks out her foot
I give her a compliment and say that their cute
She thanks me with a smile on her face
Then puts her foot down with a sweet kind of grace
I must confess that I've admired
How she walks in those shoes all day without getting tired
There is no doubt, I've come to see
That those shoes were made for my friend kaylee
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
Notes tighten the headphone noose around my mind
Hang me on the wired gallows
Define my time through red wine and hollow songs
Screaming among me
Chords like choking chloroform cover my ears,
Drown the fears
Syncopate and reverberate
Don't make the mistake this time
of drowning under my own weight.
Smother my infectious insecurities
And laugh with me.
Let the rhythm serve as a jury.
Pull me into comfortable apathy.
Songs like shotguns splattering self doubt against this screen,
Its retrograde and mean.
But it's the only tangible thing it seems.
Ready the rock 'n' roll revolver!
6 rounds to ecstasy.
*** drugs, and skin smoulder
Bass-encased bullets blasting rounds on replay,
Swallow the shells
Cough up gun powder
Spit greased teeth
Rinse and repeat
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
I break for her brokenness
I ache for her soul
She is blind to this fallen world
She is numb to the cold
I weep for her openly
I will see her again
A few more days, to numb the pain
And I will see my friend
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
i came into this world 23 chromosomes of her and 23 of him
i came into this world for them to use me against each other
i came into this world for them to treat me like an object
THEIRS
no individuality
just...
theirs
years go by and i've started to discover myself
and as my petals open up and i bloom into the flower i'm supposed to be
i am rejected and have petals torn off one by one
"you're not gay"
"you shouldn't cut your hair"
"you look like a boy"
"you look so grungy and messy"
"your name is Kaylee"
but i was max
i was gay
i cut my hair
i looked like a boy sometimes
i wear band t-shirts and ripped jeans
but it's not enough
my individuality isn't taken into account
i am not a blooming flower
i am a mere seed
i have yet to be what they want me to be
and so therefore i am not anything
"it's all a phase"
"in 10 years you'll look back on this and feel so dumb"
i will never be enough
not for them
not even for myself now
nothing is good enough
i fight the hatred with knowledge and pride
and now i've just learned to stand to the side
as they come with their pesticide to run me back into the ground
tuning me out until i learn how to not make a sound
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
Why does Kaylee count to 1,2,3
Cause Kaylee can.
Why does Kaylee say her A,B,C's
cause Kaylee can.
She always counts to 1,2,3
she always says her A,B,C's
she always eats her corn and pea's!
Why does Kaylee count to 1,2,3?
Cause Kaylee can.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
*populist poets... you 'erd 'em? young girls donning pissy pants... they think populism is a "revelation" of reciting pop media... how about the linguo my pretty dear? how about the lexicon my prettiest of dears?! you integrated to the point of surprising the locals with their own idiosyncrasy? no... get's the vote! ha ha ha... n'ah, just kidding... throw 'em overboard! populism, what a horrendous word.. it should be digested with a gall-bloom of absinthe... populism is one thing, then another when it just plagiarises today's-i.e.-being-yesterday's-news tosh: and me just bought me a ferrari, gearing up for: a major twist in the whole tale, the spoken word of the hero of the tale: a mustard gas **** i'm not even aiming to be funny, first of all i know that i'm not funny, second of all i know i'm pathetic... wishing i played the banjo at an irish jig or a bagpiperpipipipe pict kaylee.*
ah, poor, queenie - there she is again,
her face on a fiver, a tenner &
the twinkle toe twenty banknote,
is like a face of a "celebrity"
pawn on the headline page of
a tabloid newspaper -
given the rich, given the poor,
her face on a banknote has become
just as much as a "celebrity"
on a tabloid newspaper -
given the rich, given the poor -
ornamental, and sometimes,
if begging for "writing material":
a shit-smeared toss-off;
my my, i have to add,
isn't the concept of money a jesus
quote and pontius pilate's gesture?
i wash my hands clean!
give due to caesar, separate to
the dues unto god...
well... here's my abel's share of
"concern" (english existentialism
should have mentioned the inverted
commas as: too lazy to look up
a thesaurus entry) -
**** me, that's yard irish;
well... better sink with the rats,
than swim among the sharks me says,
at least we gets our nibbles,
on the way down!
now i'm real gnashing my teeth
to excite the frickin' appetite!
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC