Mhm…

Look up baby
Because I am watching you and not the television screen
Reading you like a book written in sign language
Playing it safe until I know that you’re ready for me
Taking notes of poetry each time you doubt the kind of love you’ve received…

The expectation of perfection only pulls me in; my kiss to your lips are laced with flavors of your past sins, I want to drive you crazy so you learn the real meaning of love without boundaries…

I do it all to watch you squirm…

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Daily affirmations

i have to keep reminding myself that things are better than my untrained eye can decipher.

I feel cold at night but there’s a blanket on top of me, my heart feels wary and my mind is dreary but I remind myself that just 2 months ago I was worried about any and everything that would cost money, and losing the closest person that I’d ever let next to me.

The battle to recognize my triumphs is a daily affirmation for me. I am too familiar with lonely and it makes me think of who I’ve lost recently but then the daily affirmation continues…
I continue to chat in whispers, I consciously exercise my breathing.

I’m just not for everybody.

My next move is so strategically planned that I scare myself, nothing else can go wrong or I’ll blow up like a building full of terrorists who are trying their hardest to prove something…

In fact,

I am a terrorist too. My mind is full of bombs created in my own bedroom, restless nights of roaming the internet trying to research the tools needed to create my own explosive changes, I want to blow up myself into tiny pieces, come back to life with a whole new set of eyes, thoughts, and cares, that would be my prize for my martyr sacrifice. Paradise; it would be heaven…

The Last Hoorah

Toxic.
Your eyes,
No hope.
Inside,
Dying.
Friendships,
Dying.
Trust,
Dying.
Loyalty,
A lie.
Never will
We breathe
Clean air
Because we are
Polluted
By a surrounding so dirty,
By people, so dirty;
Uncontrolled,
Controlling
Us
Like puppets.
You leave
8 days
Away,
Far away.
My heart will break
But,
My air will be
Clean then.

World Wide Web

 

The World Wide Web.

So many things can be found on the internet.
Pictures of history,
1 or 1000 documentaries;
poems talking about love, about how their love has
“moved the ground beneath their feet!”
Some self-help sites in a multitude of degrees, from sex
to financial responsibility…one could really find the answer
to virtually everything,

Except…

Why does it have so much power over my relationship? O_o

Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, WordPress;
each one of these websites are a vessel
to my distress. I’d like to care less…Because let’s face it,
none of the people behind my screen are on my team,
but would that include my queen? The one I’d expect
to be loyal to me, and not how many times she’ll get
Woman Crush Wednesday’d in a week? Or writing something clever enough
for someone to re-tweet? I mean, can someone point out a
solution or me…? What am I missing? Has the World Wide Web
made normal communicative relationships obsolete? And don’t get me
wrong…in many ways, I am guilty…I suppose I know it’s because
I know she’d read my facebook page before she’d pick up the phone
to call me, voice messages and house phones are..antiques. A letter is
like the Sunday newpaper, nobody really reads those things! Why, when
you have the internet to appease?

Please.

Wake me up when the phone rings…let me know when you can leave the world wide web for the real world with me.;

Jack In The Box-Smalll excerpt from Auto-Biography

I stared ahead to stop myself from staring too hard.
This man, looked to be in his late 80’s, walker and all-
just sat there eating his sandwich from Jack in the box,
looking hollow and pained. I wasn’t sure if he was homeless
or not, his aura spoke of someone who was alone, I felt
like I was violating his space when looking in his direction,
something about someone eating seemed so intimate to me,
though that didn’t stop me from wondering if this was his first or
last meal of the day.

I waited for my number to be called. I looked up at the “Jack in the Box” sign.
it reminded me of a time where my meals were limited, living in motel rooms
and scrounging up change to get something off of the dollar menu from Jack in the Box.
Heavy memories came rushing through me. It was about 2 a.m, not sure what day it was,
but I know that I was just released from jail. Somebody was on their way to get me,
wasn’t sure who, but whoever it was…they had to buy me the Bacon cheeseburger
at jack in the box. I thought about that thing the entire time I was in jail (about 36
hours) I see a mini-van pull up, a red one. It’s my aunt Stacy. She rolled down her window
and screamed out my name “Kimberly Renae!” I laughed out loud. She was drunk. I suppose
I should have felt afraid or upset to see my intoxicated aunt pulling up to drive me away from
the jail drop off location, but I wasn’t. She was a pilfered individual, lost in a sea of dysfunction and
struggle, much like myself. People like that gravitate to one another, so I understood her. She was
hungry for the pain of failure to go away. I got that. I was hungry too.

I felt like a martyr when I got into the car. “You are a gangsta, kid!” one of her friends says. “I
can’t believe you got locked up! Were you scared?” says another. I shake my head no. I wasn’t scared.
I was starving. “Can you guys take me to Jack in the box by the house?” I open up
my bag holding my items from when I was arrested, still had the same $5.00 from yesterday.
At least I have something.

When we eventually got back to the house, my mom was there, my brother, cousins. They all
sat and looked at me. They were all so curious how the smart and structured Kim had wound
up in a cell, wanted to know what kind of people I met in there, if they tried to hurt me. Who I’d met. “Prostitutes” I said. Told them that a lot I’d met were there because of a man. Domestic violence, selling their bodies, drug charges. They were amused, I was ashamed. I had gone in there a poor yet intelligent girl, and came out a poor yet intelligent girl with an arrest record. I walked upstairs and sat on my cousins’ floor, took my food out of the bag, and started to eat.

I was about 2 bites in before I slowed down. I looked at my food with tears in my eyes. I was breaking down. At that moment, I realized that I was at my lowest of lows. Don’t know if I can
put it into words that will express it, it just feels…empty, yet at the same time like my body was filled
with cotton balls. Each bite after that felt like I was choking it down. Choking down my reality…it was difficult to swallow.

Years beyond years have passed, yet this memory is still very vivid. Weird, I know…but watching this elderly man slowly eating his food reminds me of myself. I wonder what his memories are, what he thinks about as he is eating, if he is still that struggling person that I used to be (and sometimes still am.)
They call my number, and I go to get my order.

Jack In The Box…If you only knew.

I can’t see without my glasses.

They were sitting on my nightstand just like anything else
I’d empty out of my pockets, but they were gone now.
“Where are my glasses?” I questioned. “I can’t see.”
Was I tired? I am hungover, Why aren’t I hungry?
I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.
Me vacillating has become a familiarity, my actions
have created a chain reaction of distraction from my priorities–
in what moment will I discover that I am always losing things?
First my glasses, next my sanity, because I’m sure the next time
I can’t rely on me just being lucky. “Get your shit
together Kymmie, you’re not free if you are a slave to
irresponsibility” is what my conscience is telling me. God,
I know this…I do. I know. But…
Time lied to me..it did just a few years ago when I had my back against the wall.
I was working so hard, but time told me to “Keep going”, said one day
I’d be sending post cards from exotic places, no one would know where I
laid, but would remember my name, because I was the one who escaped
away unscathed, but I am still here staring my past in the face. We are getting
closer, but when? Keep telling me to not give up, but I ask when will
I get to go visit her on Mother’s day? When will he be the one to take ME out, and actually pay?
When? the days are too familiar, so why…am I expected to
stay tamed? To remain the same?
My glasses are still missing, but I suppose I get the message. I guess…I have to keep
looking.