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Sunday, July 27, 2014

This Makes Me Want To Write.

These are the words that you stole from me, the day when you decided that stealing was cool and smoking doesn't cause cancer. You must have forgotten that cancer sucks, and you must have forgotten that I would get my words back. 

There's no such things as playing nice.
Egos get in the way, music is played too loud, fences keep the neighbors out.

I forgot to tell you that her eyes used to be candles, but candles melt. If you get the picture.

One time I got a postcard from Italy. I put it in a box. It's sitting under my bed. I have a hard time looking at something I love so much but have never met. 

Its July and I'm happy because it was 70 degrees today.
I'm not happy because now I don't know where to call home.
Airplanes aren't giving me answers lately. 

The tide always goes out and I want to be lost in blue.


-K 






Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Love poem or end-of-love poem?

It's the quiet ones. 

It's the quiet touch.

It's the quiet smile.

It's the quite breath on her lips.

It's the quiet way that he over laps his toes when hes nervous.

It's quiet why she looks at the bruise on her leg.

It's the quiet way that he watches her look at the bruise on her leg.

It's the quiet was that sun leaves the room.

It's the quiet way that eyes meet.

It's the quiet way that time moves.

It's the quiet way that the smile is gone from that freckled face.

It's the quiet way that you get older.

It's the quiet way that he runs his fingers through his hair instead of on her back.

It's the quiet way that the dust rolls in.

It's a quiet way.

-K








Tuesday, June 24, 2014

3am poem.

I promise that I wont wear that dress that is torn if you promise that you will have never been born. 

I promise I wont love you If you promise me the same. 

How am I supposed to love you when the shape of your heart is something I cant describe?

I stumble over the things that I don't know.

I fold the letters of your name and toss them away like paper airplane that they should be. 

When you open them up, you don't even know what they mean. The letters fall through your fingers, they way I did. 

Your spectrum is out of control and mine is stuck on violet. 

I drink hot drinks when its cold. I drink a lot more when you're around. 

One of these days you will be there and I will be here and we will know what love means.

But for right now, I like you. 

-K


Saturday, June 14, 2014

What its about.

I have developed several ways to love you. 
You have developed several ways to teach me about giants. 
The mixing of chemicals and I still can't figure out why you hate summer.
Free spirits, open to judgments. Me and you. 
We only think at night because that's when no one can see. 
All I want is to write a poem as beautiful as you.
Trying for the impossible. 

-K


Friday, June 6, 2014

Star Shop and the Lovers.

I am going to buy you a star
You will buy me a star
We will both have stars
And we will fall in love

-K

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Said The Moon



Bring on the hallucination, because we will be awake until we are kissed by the sun. 

I am done trying to find sleep.

Open the window because I want to go outside and the doors are locked.

It's me and silent feet and the sound of the ground beneath me waking up. 

Don't wake the sleepers.

Don't wake the midnight dreamers.

Don't wake the monsters under the bed.

"Being dumb is never cute."

But tonight you are a fool and I think you are beautiful.

I don't want to fall away. 

I don't want to fall away, but I can feel it starting to pull at my finger tips.

I can see it pulling at your shoulders. 

I can hear the voice of sleep calling. 

I will stay awake. 

You tell me that we can't waste a night like this.

And I have never heard anything so honest.

I ponder over your silhouette that dances across the asphalt. 

"I will make you lovely" said the moon. 

"I will make you lovely" said the moon.

-K





Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Hate Me.

I hung my happiness up for everyone to see. 
I hung my happiness up for YOU to see. 
I wanted you to see it.
I wanted you to hate it. 
I wanted you to feel like everything that you have ever done in this world that was the slightest bit cruel was pulling at the hairs on your arms. Annoying. 
I wanted you to hate me the way that you hate wearing socks. 
The way you hate him.
Hate her.
Hate yourself.
Hate the mirror.
Hate sleeping in.
Hate growing up.                                         
Hate tennis. 
Hate love.
Hate winter.
Hate us.
Hate coats.     
Hate birds.
Hate waiting.
Hate that song.
Hate flowers.
Hate dirtbags.
Hate vanilla. 
Hate hell.
Hate the city.
Hate me.
Hate me.
Hate me.
Hate me.
Hate me.
Please.
Please save yourself from the pain of dealing with my me-ness. 
Truth is, I have stopped dealing with your self destructive you-ness.  
You're a disease in my lungs and I am a tear in your heart. 
Together we are the worst mistake. 

-K

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Without Forgetting.

I remember when I was five and I thought that I had to ask my parents if it was okay to get out of the bathtub. I would yell until they answered "CAN I GET OUT NOW!?...MOM?!...DADDY?!...IS IT OKAY IF I GET OUT OF THE BATH NOW?!".  I remember the day when I got out with asking and nothing happened, I didn't get in trouble. I Think they were just happy that I stopped yelling. 

I remember making plans summer of 2012 for summer 2013 and then everything changing. 

I remember Thursday, March 14th 2013, 9:00 P.M. As much as I try to forget this, I remember it. 

I remember when my parents lived in the same state as me. 

I remember when I thought it would be better if I was blonde. 

I remember when my dad started calling me Kels-o and 
I felt obligated to give him a nickname so I started calling him 
daddy-o and to this day we still call each other those names. 

I remember catching bees in our butterfly nets. We liked the thrill. 

I remember when I didn't know you. 

I remember when I was 6 and my best friend lived two housed down from me and she had a red tree house that I was jealous of. I remember when her dad ate a worm. 

I remember when my older sister decided to tell me what sex was.

I remember when I used to invite all the kids from my neighborhood over to play on my slip n' slide

I remember falling in love with a white and red light house on the cost of Oregon in December

I remember when we sold crystal light on the corner of our street and Tim and his friend ran their bikes into the table. (I don't know if you remember this, Tim.) I remember crying because I spilled the crystal light and your mom wanted me to clean it up.

I remember when I thought "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas was the song of the devil

I remember when we went into the abandoned school.

I remember when I used to like going to church. I also remember when I stopped going. I remember when I started going again. 

I remember when Maroon 5 was the best band I had ever heard. 

I remember when we got into a fight and we thought that if we listened to the High school Musical sound track everything would be better, but instead you told me you didn't want to be my friend anymore. I cried on the way home because you were my only friend.  

I remember the first time you told me that you loved me. 

I remember when I ate dog food and cat food to see which one tasted better, just in case I had to live off of it for the rest of my life. The cat food was better. 

I remember when I would stack pillows and blankets around me so I wouldn't have to see the lightning outside and I would put the Little Mermaid on and turn the volume up. 

-K



Monday, May 5, 2014

I love rain.

Cheers to when we used to be alive.
Cheers to the way that you used to look at me.
Cheers to insanity. 

All I can do is stay curious and
all you can do is let me know you love me. 

We are made of clouds and dirt.
But you are made of rain.

My soul is dry and it needs rain.

My hands are dirty and they need rain.

My knees are bloody and they need rain.



I love rain.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love rain.      

-K




Thursday, April 17, 2014

metaphors of annihilation




Fill my lungs. Take my life little by little. Be my escape. 
I am all yours and I don't care anymore. 

Tell me if you feel ashamed by your ashes.

The clock and the windows watch you and that is your worst nightmare.  

You took the wings off of butterflies and I cried because I thought you were beautiful. 
But really, I just didn't know what beautiful meant. 

The color of my blood changed.
And the only thing that scared me was that I could see it. 

I know you care. The way you cling to your last breath. I know you care. 

This ritual of dances and car drives that we do, doesn't make the smoke go away. It only keeps it behind us, and I can't stop loving you.

Strawberry slices wont fix me, but maybe if you try hard enough, they will fix you.
Sweet things used to fix you. Sweet things used to give you smiles and stained clothes. 

I wait for the ripples, but I am waiting for them in dead water. 
This is my worst nightmare.

We are my worst nightmare.

-S.B.




Things that made me love you.

I thought that it might be the color of your shoes.
I thought that it may have been the way you walked over the flowers.
I thought that it may have been the way your hair was.
The things that made me love you.

Your hair moved to the beat of the music, it was the only thing I or anyone else noticed.
You skin was pure except for the dry patches on your hands. (the only thing I recognized that day.)
You were laughter.
The things that made me love you.

I like the shape your lips make when you're happy.
I like your stories, because I don't know what you're talking about. 
Maybe it's the smell of firewood, but you remind me of summer. 
The things that made me love you.

Keep whispering to me in the dark because it makes the dark go away.
Tap your fingers against my knees because it reminds me to be human. 
We're on the border line of insanity and discovery. 
The things that made me love you.

-S.B.


Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Mix Tapes.

One day I am going to forget the way that your skin smells and you're going to forget the way that my hair looks when its down.

Maybe I'm hypnotized. (I think I am)

Or maybe you are. 

Maybe Hypnotists and magicians aren't real. (I hope they are)

Maybe there is such a thing as too much love... But lets not think about that because I like they way that love feels. 

I'm scared to know what the color of being helpless looks like. 

Would you make me a mix tape? If you want to know what love is, It's a mix tape. 

Did you know that when we are together, I forget everything else that we do that day because the only thing that mattered was that we were with each other? Silly. 

It's probably a good thing or probably a really bad thing that nobody knows how to say goodbye anymore. 

I'm pretty sure my soul is on fire and I have lost all hope of getting it under control. I guess I do Know what the color of hopeless is. 

I have to keep my thoughts to myself because there is no way that you will understand them. I don't like how easily secrets get spread. 

July will come and I'll still be here. My Hands will Wait for yours. But please don't let me hold you back. You'll have to remind me because I'm selfish, remember? 

-S.B.







Saturday, April 5, 2014

Secrets are for the lost soul.

The smoke billows in my face and I can't see.
Its's not actually smoke, you know? It's a metaphor, there is a deeper meaning.
There is always a deeper meaning.


I grind my teeth together in frustration because I like the way the tension feels, and I like looking right into her eyes because I like the way the tension Feels. 



Someday, oh someday we will start our lives and I will have to watch your life in pictures because we won't talk anymore. I already know that we won't talk anymore.



You know how you go to the city so that you can feel like you are apart of something different? 
You and her and them, they are my city. 


Something about the way that you move reminds me of songs that I listened to last summer. A friendly reminder of the past, a nightmare of the past. 



I feel bad when I pick flowers because I just ruined a beautiful little life just so I could put it behind my ear and in my hair. Decorating myself. That's selfish but I always do it. I pull and tear at its petals like its nothing. Why is destruction so easy?



I like the way blankets feel against my bare skin. 



Have you ever been told that you have cute freckles? Because you have the cutest freckles in the world and your freckles make me jealous. 


I like the way houses look when they have a lot a knickknacks. When you look around the room, its like you're reading a child's book and there is something about children books that bring you home.


My heart hurt they day I saw the cuts under your sleeve. I'm so sorry. 



Sometimes, I just want to wonder. 


-S.B.



Monday, March 31, 2014

I could really use a coke.

I could really use a coke.
I would love a day without any responsibility.
Have a sweet reunion with my bed, without having to part early.
I want to see the ocean from a different view, from a different place.
Let's read books that we have never heard of.
I want to be surrounded by the forest trees who know more than me. Who are old and wise.
Let's drive with no destination and make friends with people who speak a different language.
Throw rocks through the windows of that abandoned house.
Let's visit old cemetery's and pretend we know all about the lives of the people who are buried there.
Let's kiss.
I want to jump into the water without any clothing.
I don't want to get out of the bath.
Let's drink coca cola from a glass bottle as we lay on a bed in a grungy hotel room, because that's all we can afford. We would be so happy in that place.
I could really use a coke.
-S.B.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Old sweaters and Annoying habits.

I like the way your hair curls when it gets longer.
It makes me think that everything about you isn't perfect. Perfects not bad, but perfects not what I want.

I like the way that you annoy me. 

I like the way that your hands feel against my face. I like that way your hands feel when I trace them with my fingers. 

I like the way your heartbeat sounds. It sounds like the way everyone's sounds, but I like it because its your heart. I love your heart.

I like the way your facial hair scratches me when you give me a hug. Its like putting on that old sweater.

I like the way that you talk to me about things that I have no idea what you're talking about. I like it because I can see the light in your eyes when you do. 

All that I am is because of you.

S.B.




Wednesday, March 19, 2014

lust for my bones, love my heart.

My bones. 

My bones crave to move. They want to walk the different textures of this earth, swim in the water, run in the sand, climb the mountains, walk the streets of old towns. 

My bones what to be broken so that they can understand what it's like to heal. They want to know what its like to be new again, to be stronger.

My bones want me to drink milk but they don't understand how much I hate milk. 

My bones Hold me up, the are the frame of me. The only thing that will remain when I'm gone. They want to have a life before we leave each other. 





My heart. 

My heart is mad at me. I know its mad at me because it is pounding on my skin from inside of me. 

Usually I only know my heart is there when I am laying quietly in my bed with my head on my pillow, I can hear the soft thumping of it. "I just want you to know I'm still here, I still work." or when you say the words, "I can hear your heart beat." 

It's Mad because I don't know how to talk when I'm upset. It doesn't like holding all of that emotion for me. It gets tired from that.





Saturday, March 15, 2014

D I E T

I am living on a diet of you and the moon.

The moon is my best friend, I am lost in the moon and its many craters. Don't come looking for me because I don't want to be found.

I am living on a diet of you and the moon.

YOU, oh YOU, you make me quake with laughter and smiles and tears and... and I don't want you to be jealous that the moon is my best friend, because you are my best friend but just in a different way.

I am living on a diet of you and the moon. 

I count on seeing the moon every night, even when its a new moon I know she is there. She is watching over me. 

I am living on a diet of you and the moon.

You are beautiful and here. I can touch your knees and I can see your shoulders. I love your shoulders. We can eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches together.

I am living on a diet of you and the moon.

I have never been healthier. 











Friday, March 14, 2014

Something Personal.

I have always been afraid of death.

I listened to that voice mail from your mom about 20 times in a row because I didn't believe it. 

When I called you later that day, it was the only time I heard you cry.

Your soft delicate skin being pulled tight around your aching bones.

Who knew you had so many freckles under that long, thick hair of yours?

Even as the cancer took your body, that selfish cancer, I was always jealous of your spirit. 
I was always jealous of your beauty. 

I never heard you complain, not even once. 

"One more month and I'll be done with chemo!" One week and two days later, you were gone. 

Your little sister called me at 9:00 PM on a Thursday to come over to your house, I knew something was wrong, but I just couldn't allow my self to think like that. 

Your family sat me down, your wonderful family.

"She fought really hard but she couldn't do it anymore. She loved you so much." These are the only words I remember form that conversation. 

My lungs collapsed. 

It was the first time that my heart has ever been broken.



I knew, driving home that night, that I needed to tell everyone, but how? What am I supposed to say?


So I didn't. I really regret that. It hurts me. 





I didn't go to sleep that night because I was afraid of what I would dream of.







The hardest phone call I had to make was when I called your sister to tell her couldn't speak at your funeral.
I so badly wanted to but I couldn't. I wouldn't have been able to get a word out. This hurts me too.  

All I want is to hear your voice one more time. Hear your laugh that gets a little too loud sometimes. 

We are taught in Sunday school what heaven is going to be, but I want YOU to tell me what heaven is like because maybe that would make dying a little less scary.

I have always been afraid of death.



Monday, March 10, 2014

F E A R

Its more than the shadows in the closet or the monsters under the bed.

It pulls at my skin.
It makes my heart race.
It forces me to keep my eyes open.
It feels like I have been running forever and I can't catch my breath, but I haven't moved at all.
I can feel it crawling inside me.
It is everything in me.
It is my empty spaces that worry they will never be filled.
It is the thought of not seeing you again.
It is the dark room that is not making any sound.
It is being left alone in my own head.

The fear is pumping through my blood.

I OVER THINK AND IT CAUSE FEAR IN EVERYTHING I DO, SEE, AND HEAR.
I can only imagine the worst.

I am full of fear. I fear that nothing is going to happen. I fear that something is going to happen and I will not have any control. I am afraid of you, but I'm more afraid of me.


-S.B.








Tuesday, March 4, 2014

h e l l o

Hello Sweetheart.

I am thinking about you, I always think about you.

Tonight I was thinking about how I wish I could have warned you not to fall in love me.

I am selfish, I want all of the galaxies and worlds to be mine. (I would share them with you of course, but no one else.)

<<< you deserve someone who is not so selfish.

I get a little stubborn sometimes and that's not very fair to you.

I get really grumpy when I'm hungry and I don't know how to fix that. You tell me you understand and that's so nice of you to not get upset with me.

Sometimes I forget to shave my legs and I get really embarrassed about it, but you tell me you don't care.

<<< I know, I forget to shave more often than "sometimes".

When I try to talk super fast my proper grammar is no where to be found and I mix up my words.

<<< I'm sure you have noticed this but you haven't ever said anything, so thank you.

I always want to eat spaghetti and I know that you don't like it as much as I do.

I should have warned you not to fall in love with me, but I'm selfish.

You deserve the world and more, and I can't give you that right now, but you love me anyway.





Monday, March 3, 2014

lukewarm water of LIFE.

I am sitting in the lukewarm water of life. 

I don't know what I am doing after this, I thought I had more time.

Time goes to fast these days, there is never enough of it.

Really, the only thing I want is to be able to say "I'm Home."
find somewhere where I belong.

Scratch that last sentence. What I want is someone to see me and say "I'm home." and I want to understand what that means. 

I am stuck in the stage of being a child and an adult and I don't know what side I want to favor. Do I want to give up sidewalk chalk and running around the street barefoot with my friends or do I want to give up the opportunity to start my life, to fall in love?

I guess I can run around barefoot with my love, if they're into that kind of thing. 

I miss being a colorful kid. Puddle jumping and tree climbing at its finest. Cuts and bruises from being overly adventurous.

I want my adventures back. 


-S.B.