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"kenna" poems
a winter visit is blood to us, collected in our thumbs, pressed together, always distracted by effectively knowing that which is true: feral will never make do. going to the space needle, her mouth was a cowry shell that i saw in the water in my fingers i heard the snapping of twigs just that prickly little feeling saying “kenna, watch the corners of her mouth” lovely in the passenger seat my hand quaking ninety miles to go oregon behind, peppering the corridor with firs quietly i sang watery songs “run river run,” “golden vanity,” she slept with the stars sitting on her hair then seattle waited underneath her black dress (velvet, from her mother) wondering where will we stay- she woke up. from the sky fell zebra orchids, already dying
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
seattle
I don't want this written in words. Maybe if it's just in my head, it'll make it less worse. Feels as if I'm going to burst Head won't be silent Thoughts turning violent Trying not to care Only been a few years Tears still build up here, but put up a shield; one big force field. No way to reel you in, feeling abandoned up to the brim. I got into your depth, now all I sense is death. Need a cure before my vision is blurred. Posted by Kenna Marie ... Feel free to... BlogThis! ♡ Share to Twitter ♡ Share to Facebook ♡
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Don't Want This
Give me an idea of how many stars there are, And I will tell you the color of your eyes; For the celestial bodies are innumerable, And your eyes too much to name a shade. (c) 2016 Indigo Kenna
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
Dusty Blue
As though her insecurities consumed her entirely, he understood that a woman like her were those rare women whom men only came across once in a lifetime. He understood the way a woman like her should be wooed, held, loved, seen, and touched. She being his weakness and he her strength- they could understand one another without having to say anything to each other. A simple glare from either one spoke a million truths. How, when they held one another, became two souls as one. Enamored in their fidelity towards each other and how mutual their simplicity drawn them together.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Kenna.
And the morning after             is always tinged with regret; I can see it in the sunrise before I             open my curtains. If only I could pretend             that, some days, it doesn't             keep me better company             than my faithful lover. © Indigo Kenna
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Jul 14, 2022
Jul 14, 2022 at 4:01 AM UTC
A Little Yellow
by Kenna Marie Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet, people smolder every meaning of the word beauty. Taking procedures in order to obtain this image of perfection, but it is right built inside of you. Believe it or not, whatever you need you got! Reading this now with your eyes, heart beating to the sound of survival. Educating yourself on how to accomplish revival because you are dead. The laughter comes in sequences syncing perfectly to those begging for attention. Revolt revolt! Build a catapult to launch yourself away from here. Lose yourself in all the sincere. Perform a test to see if you're the best. “You are defeat compared to the rest!” Start to dress to impress when the isn’t up to par. Spend days alone at empty bars. “Dare to make a move!” “It won’t improve you.” “You got nothing to lose!” “Yeah, well how about your skeleton starting a rebellion. You’re yelling, starting to tell your children the beginnings of this addiction.” It swallows you whole, your body is totaled. Now, you’re in the rusting pile of traveled miles of rot... Forgetting what you are and what you’re not.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
* *Don't tell me to open my eyes and see When it's you who has kept me in the dark.* (c) 2019 Indigo Kenna
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Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
Lies
It was not so much when I felt awful, But when I felt nothing, That I wanted to die. And it was not so much when I felt happy, But when I felt loved, despite all the pain, That I wanted to live. (C) 2016 Indigo Kenna
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Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
But When (To Live, To Die)
How can I say I want something When I honestly want nothing? I am empty, and full of all the things I'm Supposed to hate And I have no desire to make them leave. So cut off all my limbs and let me die, Please, For I live no longer From this point on. (c) 2015 Indigo Kenna
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
Sincerifidelity
Today Is the day for revival, For rain does not come except that we pray. Today, yes, is that day that I feel so low, But that will be every day until I die. Yes, today I am tired, Sniffling, Ready to sleep, Off on my own, But it will always be today. Pray now. (c) 2017 Indigo Kenna
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
Pray Now
So, I'll be what I am, For to be another would be a lie. Additionally, And I'll put this bluntly, I'd rather you didn't love me if it was for someone else. My advice is, Be yourself, And don't be disappointed if someone leaves the person you were pretending to be for someone real. Maybe you should do the same. (c) 2017 Indigo Kenna
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Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 2:56 AM UTC
Be Yourself
Why do we love The people who we should not love? *Is it longing, or pain, Or self-deception about who you are That drives me yet to love you so? You said goodbye so long ago, And still I love who I should not.* (c) 2018 Indigo Kenna
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
Who I Should Not
Sometimes you have to shut off that one light that's been blinding you Before you can see all the others (of which one is particularly beautiful). (c) 2018 Indigo Kenna
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Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 4:39 AM UTC
wish upon a star
Every time I feel this love, I feel afraid. I shiver, as if the dead of winter Had crept in overnight. But what is love, And why does it make us cold--- Or is it the absence of love that chills us? (c) 2017 Indigo Kenna
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Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 3:46 AM UTC
Chilled
Should I Change myself To please you? I could, but What would I gain? You never loved me anyway. (c) 2017 Indigo Kenna
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Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Change
Forget the world, friends--it's gone to those who dream, As if all these soaring depths could hold us, As if all these dropping heights Could pin us to the ground--- Let's fly, friends--- The world is gone. (c) 2017 Indigo Kenna
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Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
Gone