Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Why I Don't Go to Parties

I'm scared to go to parties
I don't go and hang out
I'm always in a never ending war

I want to be apart of everything
But leave no one out
I love attention and the spotlight
But I don't like taking it
And many more people deserve it more than me

I always go when I'm invited
And try to invite as many as possible when I host
But as soon as I appear in the room I am a ghost
Invisible
Or at least I try to be

I don't sit when I'm not offered a chair
I don't eat until everyone is full
I don't sneeze or cough without leaving the room
Even during my own party I'm a slave to my guests getting this and that
Not spending a single moment on myself
Because I want them to enjoy themselves
Not deal with my selfishness

Even at sleepovers I will be the last one to go to bed
Because when the others are sleeping I clean up after them
Even sometimes doing the dishes or folding the strewn about clothes
I always leave the house cleaner than when I found it

I'm too scared to ask where the restroom is
In fear of embarrassing the host
And for taking up their time

It's not because I'm scared of people
But it's because I'm scared of hurting other people
But I worry people

Occasionally
At every party or event
I cry
Not by choice that is
But I get so overwhelmed by being by myself
But conflicted to join in for fear of taking someone else's attention
I hate to be alone but I also hate taking others attention
So I deal with it

That's why my friends think I'm sad or depressed or sick when I'm in a group
I lie and smile saying “No I'm grand, so have fun”
When in truth I feel like vomiting in the corner
Because I'm taking up someone else's space to stand or sit
As well as taking someone else's ability to breathe the air I am using
Just because I can't hold my breathe long enough

I don't go to parties
Because I love people
And I love showing off
But I know I am worthless compared to them
And other people deserve the spotlight more than me

So next time there is a party
Please do invite me
I would love to go
And be a ghostly guest for you


Thursday, October 27, 2016

Buttered Toast

Drop buttered toast on the pavement falls right side up
But you will flop and quiver with your crumbled nose in the dust
 Under ladders your hearted soul leads aimlessly away
 But after tripping off heights to the thrashing water your breath will be astray
 Black cats do whisper and slink about your corners, drowning disgrace as your cloak
If you run into a sketchy bar depressingly drunk I wouldn't take a drink from the pleasantly accented bloack
 If the sky is red in the morning then sailors should take warning
 But if your sheets and walls and hands are on fire what is left for you than the ashes soaring
 Women can't drive is how the old saying goes
 But let's say the gorey pavement was left after you were bulldozed
 When you sneeze, about you someone is speaking
 But the wailing truths are always there, you just aren't listening
 Say Bloody Mary in the mirror three consecutive times as the clock struck twelve
 Though only the bloody reflection of nightmares will your imagination dweleve
 The superstitions are accusations of your unpleasant life's action
 But all these unpleasantries were brought on by your own worldly interactions

Black Cat Masquerade

We are all black cats in the palest of moons
 The lunacy and loonies transcending the anticipated doom
 We stalk behind candle lights at shadows in the night
 Or linger behind secret filled corridors out of sight 
With long crawling fingers we lead others astray
 Our intentional bad luck bringing discomfort and dismay
 Accidents eradicated and all accusations put aside
 It is by our own rules and self nurtured pleasure the bad luck abides
 We cast and wish it upon others we seek
Our eyes cold and worries on skin left sleek
Black cats, we wander and screech and cry
 With our own misfortune the bad luck dies

The Good People

Whispering Willows and lingering wings
Distant gossamer and silken dust shrouds your dreams
Suffocating silk and cloth contacted clover
Venomous ivy our blood the donor
Crying and screaming and wrangling woods
Running from entrapping roots from the people of good
They wretch and wail, spelling ill fates to the wind
The daydream’s roses falling to nightshade sins
Fey folk be tiny with pristine snake eyes
Wrinkled wings and clawing limbs pierce the sky
Enchant the innocent children with a burned thyme lavender chants
To force them into the ring of wild tribal magic dance
Running round riveting roots and rivers to drown
With snow white children’s toes perspiring bloody footprints to the ground
Songs of gentle bells and deer calls swivel and dip
Shadow casting menacing trees and poisonous tulips
Cheers cross as the child does flow down the single stream
Dropping body after body down the golden twigged hole of dreams
They cross and quiver with quick envy shouts
Crawling and quaking with empty belly glouts
Each wee fairy and large oaken beast
Coax down the body a kiss of the dying mist
A feast! A feast! Do the crowing walls leak
Of childs blood and dirty secrets, hiding the meek
Does dawned and perthroned can a queen of hathaway hum forward
Her elegance and rose cheeks in the sight of a bloody corpse be altered
Dressed in rose thorns, spider silk and scorpion tails
The queen of nightmares dawns herself in the entrails
Drawing up a long single fingering lance
Slashes the jugular with a swift and spluttering Slash!
Lost in the hours and bones of the brittle night
Fey and good people call out a bristle born fight
Picking over fingernails and sweet tasting hairs
Left with the thickened tongue and torn derrière
Coaxing and coxing, bathing in sweet tooth bile
They crimp cover crawl in the throatal wail
Skin slack awrigle a winged parasites
Sleeping lungs and poppy plugs left’n right
Hares and bones, slim picking of preposterous puny
Skull and torn silk left with wrinkled grape eyes a pruny
A dare a dash of raven clawed eyes and cat ears
Mutilated child corpse and flower braided skin promise the fey here
Without lost of reason or lucid portrayal
The truths of the world are lost in fairytales
Fey and good folks the beginning and last animals
Living feasts- humanly cannibals

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Blind Date Thursdays

Blind dates every Thursday
You have probably already met me
My name is Kay
I love to drown in the rain
Wear Awkwardly cute accessories
Murder plants with my teeth
And blue roses
And I've met many of you already
Star people
Sin-cinatis
Digital worlds
Dragon fuckers
Cat facts
Anal holes
Black rights
Broken skulls
Beaten bodies
Empty bottles
Staling cars
Brick walls
And butterfly's.
Without this place I wouldn't have had a metamorphosis
Always been shy about my writings
Locked them away in my file box
Until I showed one person my writings
And they sent me inspiration to try
And I did
I tried
I wrote
I performed
And I start to take the next few clumsy steps
Editing and critiquing
To find my self a future
And write it
Now I'm not leaving
Just advancing
As my writing becomes my future
For I am a butterfly
And I want my life of writing to be visible
I will stop taking my smile pills
And I'll jump down every rabbit hole
Where all the words are in my head
And not leaving me yet
Where my poems are like snow
Sprinkled upon my studies
My sanctuary of my rhymes
And I will fall
But be cushioned by my lyrics
And I don't go to parties
But i do go to slams
And thank you for it
Every Thursday I go on a bind date
With each of your poems
And fall into platonic love with you
As you fall in love with me
Thank you

Letters of Letters

Letters of letters

I live between the lines
Or above them
Or rather in the individual spaces between the  letters of each word
Jumping the voids between each word in each line
Gently gliding or rock climbing from one stanza to the next
Living in my script
Hanging on the ledges of capital I s
Sliding down the slopes of M s and W s
Curling up in the nests of the O
Running circles and jumping off the dive board of Q into my sea of words
Looking out my triangle window of my Teepee house of A
Restfully sleeping in the slopes of the S,s
While catching my Z's
Breaking out of my crack egg shelled Cs
Leaning on the Brick walls of my Ls
Protected from the pouring drew drop Bs
Upon the inverted V of my Sundial roof
Not only in the straight and structured fonts of abandoned typewriters
Printed P’s of the Past
But the looping legato drawings of dancing lady G’s
Or swooping dipping questions ending with a Y
The completely perpendicular reading nook of T tree
The playground ladders and slides of R’s
Moving me to a youth of simple thoughts and words
For as a gentle bowing n grows it's sharpens to adulthood
With wide smiling D’s of late night emails
The tooth edge E combing my hair and memories
The X’s of mental block upon eyes being lifted
The cupping hands of U holding K
Gracing me into a simple bed of gentle H’s
And Cradle arm J’s
F not extending its middle finger but the two on the side
The letters from letters
Where this poem is a remix
Of my alphabet soup
The letters of letters with lessons
Each single one we hear and read it leaves an impression

Friday, September 9, 2016

Snapping Stems


Bending at the spine
I was a dying rose
The Beauty Fading
The Thorns sharpening
Snapping at the stem left to bow to the misfortunate world
Storms of reality throwing me into whiplash
Then snapping me back at the center
Shredding wind tearing away the velvety beliefs I used as my protection
Leaving me exposed, naked, and broken at the stem
The knives left in my back seeding poison ivy
Spreading rashes to where my wilting leaves could no longer itch
My pollen sent away on chivalrous breezes
To the tormented self harmed tulips
The damned misrepresented daisies
For the Lucid drug addicted lilacs
None left for the damaged dilapidated rose that I am
My last wine red petal falling among the dust
To which I gave my final wish
Please, let the shy violets have the courage

Friday, September 2, 2016

Question Suicide

Questions committing suicide
Forget society that's why
I keep you out of my shadows so you don't go mad
I keep my lips shut in Ironclad
Why must you keep prying for more details
Recounting the pills and cuts in my entrails
Reopening wounds that I had sewn closed
Rebuilding buildings I just bulldozed
Stop prying about my pain in this world
I keep the secrets locked away so you don't hurl
Because my problems give you problems in a domino effect
Because my chemical hormonal balance has a defect
Stop asking and let me be
But that bad seed
We left planted in between the lines and rows of our empty conversations
Blossom with rage and miscommunication
We walk away because I said to leave me alone
Hiding ourselves behind happier clones
As I cry in the closet and you mumble in bed
About the twinkling tears held in our reflexive glass eyes we dread
The barbed wire I took to my lips to sew them
Demons writing letters on my tongue so I can no longer send
Where duct tape would be better but won't abolish the pain
Where I hold in my dagger words just to keep you sane  
Because I don't want to talk and I don't want you to worry
And for this, me being me with this agonizing pain, I'm sorry