Boarderline Love

As the years trickle past,

my blood thickens,

I can read your attacks.

Your glass wall of protection is cracking.

Vicious and juvenile, she

casts a lightning streak, a clouded fog

burning my eyes as she barks taunts

into reddening ears, I ache

to release one—hard—swipe,

one good crack

that you so deserve.

But I restrain the golden-glove

boxer within my throbbing heart

waiting for the emotional

beatings to stop.

‘I know she’s going to leave me,’

She’s the grandmother who bakes nails

into her cookies,

“I love you unconditionally…”

under one condition

I am her punching bag and her ‘sweet girl.’

I’ve lost count of how many times her barb caught

on my weathered heart and tugged

a little too hard.

I will always love you, forever

Riding the Lines of Reality

Systematically searching for the right connection

under hot condensation dripping off

the peeling ceiling

of 28^th St.’s station.

The bumpy yellow sandpaper holds back

my eager feet from slipping

to the electric track below.

The 1-train cascades past

plastering 30 year old grime

into my pores, filling them

with the long forgotten experiences

from those who thrived in these tunnels before. 

We accepting fate as a scheduled journey,

the 70 other people weighing down the platform

crowd the iron worm,

soaking it with their fermenting frames

and exhausted brains, impatiently riding

the screeching rail to their destiny.

My fellow zombies sit uncomfortably close

sparking my temptation to cast judgment…

BING-BONG

‘therapy’s over.’

Time to return to the surface

and recollect my old self,

shedding the subway-me

with every step I take.

The Age of Observation

Don't We All?

I wish to crumple the paper
and ring out the ink
so to drain the words
from the page
for a chance to escape
to an earlier time,
when history wasn't written,
it was lived.

© 2012 Kait

Eternal Autumn

Sputtering, onyx bumps burst

releasing the aroma of carbon from

monotonous--meditating

leaf blowers on the backs of men, working

for a pleasant life, as they

stir orphaned, tangy harvest leaves,

scattering them on the sidewalks, I

swoon through the cerulean

chill of a November day. 

The Devil

A plague affecting both men and women in our modern society. Anorexia, Bulimia, self-harm, etc. have proved to be demons in my life and I am on a mission to exploit them, for cathartic reasons.

I’m drizzled on the food you eat,

Proud owner of your intrusive thoughts

those nights you can’t sleep.

I’m am the jeans that pinch your thighs;

I’m the prick stabbing your aching, shallow mind.

Dragging my serrated nails like a child drags a stick on a fence;

I bellow threats of abandonment and pain

While whispering chants of insanity.

“Do your heart strings break from my monumental strain?”

Let’s find the source of your happiness,

so I can pick it apart like a vulture.

Oh, and don’t worry,

I will never leave you,

darling,

I live inside your head.

We have an eternity to play

‘Building-yourself-up’;

So I can knock you down again.

Archaic

We are constantly dying,

Preoccupying

Ourselves with tasks

And time

To lose the scent

Of rotting flesh

As it lazily wafts by.