We think we procrastinate but the cosmos unfold with immaculate timing. We are always on time.
I sit alone, hookah and my phone.
But I can’t call you,
Tell you that I miss you
Because I’m supposed to be mad at you.
It’s supposed to be over.
And you are now gone.
Love is a sadist, it is.
I feel murdered inside. Feel like I’ve lost something, with no real prize for my time.
It all makes sense, what I was running from.
Feeling right here.
Is what I’ve been trying to avoid all along.
Merry Christmas to me.
I keep playing the scene in my head.
From where it was all fun and games until the moment they sat and said “your girlfriend French kissed her friend!”. I didn’t want to believe it, because you said you loved me, but quickly came to reality when I told myself that your love was never about me, it was always all about you. I keep jumping back and forth from heart break to acceptance, parts of me want to curse you for betraying me, other parts want to ask why? When ive been nothing but supportive of you, that is the part that hurts the most, thinking about the moments when I tried so hard to be close to you, and all I got was drunken rampages that usually ended with you not remembering anything. I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself that you are the victim…again, can tell that by your poems and reactions, no sorry towards me, just blocking me from your life like I didn’t mean shit to you. You’re probably convinced all of your friends that I’ve had a negative impact on your life, whatever makes you feel better. Just know that despite it all, I’ll move along, with shame on my mind for the love in my heart, myself too..going back to…
What comes naturally to us is never forgotten, and it is when we try to remind ourselves to feel is when we are lying to the truest nature of our intentions. Small gestures speak volumes, because they validate what words say, and back up what one feels.
Diabla, is what she named me.
Put me to shame, kiss me.
Right here I will remain stuck,
where everyone can see me.
What a fool you have made me, and everybody knows..
I reach a hand to keep her, but in the wind she blows.
Funny how we always end up here.
I fight the feeling to write about you, another sappy poem
about this love and lusting..nope. Not until
I check out your stuff and make sure that you are
writing about me too.
I’m always right, because I already knew that
and it isn’t right, but who am I..right? Just the
next name on your list of perpetrators, I suppose
that you are waiting for me to hurt you too, except my
hurt would consist of not accepting you while you drag
me down with you, my stability is always shaky now, but why?
who cares, though–because your easily concocted answer will
always be “well I didn’t ask you to”. True.
what the fuck am I doing?
I’m scratching my head in confusion,
is it my mind I’m losing?
My optimism escaping me.
I love you.
Do you even want me to?
maybe this is what Karma couldn’t wait to show me
My old chicks voices in my head saying
“one day Kymmie, your games will leave you lonely.”
Exactly where I am headed now, and that’s okay but my
heart won’t let me go in peace.
My questions wake me up at night, hoping that maybe you’d
give me some sort of recognition, maybe something saying
“You know I wouldn’t want to lose this.”
but that will never happen, because you’re too busy writing about your exes
checking your text messages
complaining about the date and time we had a conversation
On instragram straight flexin’ (lol)
Damn, girl, you are giving me no choice but to keep stepping
and trust me, that’d be something to lose..
Be careful what you whisper
into my ear.
The sky is swallowing us both now,
and we will never come back down
once we come,
if it were up to me.
Let me capture you, just one time
and into your mind I will wander
until I escape your body
when you climax, a surrender from your feelings,
which what was once so very scantily clad…
naked up until the place of your thighs,
equivalent to the state of your mental embodiment;
Will turn empty into pyre.
I will fulfill you the way lovers do
the way no other can do…
“When you are ignoring her, you are reminding her of how to live without you.”
How many characters
does it take to say
what has me speechless?
…just a few more words
Til I will run out.
I love you.
Things have happened, been lost, and have been realized. My year in review is not about accomplishments but of realizations.
Birthdays prior were celebrated with certainty.
I was a warrior in life that had conquered a
multitude of battles, I looked down upon those …
who were enslaved mentally and emotionally,
couldn’t grasp the reasons behind surrendering
the only thing that we should have power over,
ourselves and our actions. I was proud to have
that advantage. I chopped it up to being an
August baby. In Ancient Rome, August was a
majestic month that inspires reverence and
admiration, and I was keeping up with the
namesake of my birth month because even with
many obstacles, I was barely weathered, I was
like a super-human. WAS.
However, I am sure that right now, I am dying.
Not in a literal sense, but in an emotional one.
Tragedy has become mundane, relatable.
I am mourning over a loss that has not become;
I am broken-hearted over a love that I have yet
to meet. Logically it seems that I am worried
about my future, but mentally I can’t help but
wonder if I am just now realizing that my past
has brought about a present that I should have
been worried about many years ago. The clock
is ticking continuously, and I am confused with
whether I should stop and smell the flowers and
risk being stung by a bee, or if I should keep on
going and find myself tripping over my own two
feet, falling to the floor and too tired to get up
and see what’s in front of me.
Perhaps the biggest scare was finding out
that I was not a genius on how this life works.
I could read every minute of my day, I could
watch every move that I make, but it doesn’t
change the fact that each minute passes
differently, each moment can have a new affect
on me, and each day isn’t promised to be there,
no matter how certain things seem to be.
I have to continue my drive to revolution,
my fight has temporarily gone dormant,
being substituted with partying ways,
distractions, love interests, and messed up
priorities. I will re-awaken the warrior and take
on the ambiguity of life.
People are surprised when I am compassionate, taking it as a performance
or my own temporary state of confusion. But, I believe that we are not just
US, we are our surroundings, our relationships, our experiences. I am no
more than a product of my comfort and what lessons I am
learning that change me.
Expect me to be perfect, and I will kill a small part of your dreams. I am
hopeless in a sense of keeping up with expectations, just let what we create
together be the teacher of all things magnificent within me, as I try my best
to do the same with you.