For the one who woke me up.

I know we get along sometimes
like soap and milk
but it sure makes a cool spectrum.
I guess we fight because we know
we will just forget about it
and be laughing in an hour.
We love each other no mater what.
You know my every nook and cranny,
and even in knowing me so well,
you love me anyway.
You've seen me through so much,
heard me cry so many times,
and made me laugh harder than I knew possible.
You know all my fears,
all my desires,
all my secrets,
whether I told them to you or not.
You are someone I could never replace.
I love you,
my friend.

Melody

When music happens
my heart beats with it
that odd, wonderful connection
between heart and song
mind and music
soul and sound

My mouth opens
and sweet song introduces itself to ears
the color yellow
tasting of honey
and smelling of mimosa.

It is not a sound from me.
It is a sound God
puts deep within
indescribable joy
that I sing.

After a funeral

They line up.
One by one.
And say
"I'm sorry."
All wearing black,
and I wonder what they are sorry for.
I stand
and smile,
but not too much.
And wait for it to be over.
What I want to do is collapse
and cry and let them surround me.
A circle of love
is ten times better
that a procession of sorrys.

Then I go home and pray agian.
Dear God,
What can I do?
He didn't deserve this.
Can't we bring him back?
Isn't there anything that will bring him back?
Please?
Amen

People constantly call
wanting to take me out to lunch
and talk things over.
I can't believe they feel like eathing.
And talking.
Those are the last things I want to do.

"It will make you stronger."
they say,
"You'll be okay. Life goes on."
They don't remember the grave they just saw
that is proof
that sometimes
life
does
not
go
on.

I blow them all off.
Being a jerk
is definately
one of the five stages of grief.

Eventually protocal states
that I have to leave my room
so I put on makeup
and be like a clown
and no one will see
the real face
behind the mask.
They can't see
the sad me.
The depressed me,
the shamed me.

It's so hard
to let go of someone who's died
and live your life again.
Leaving your greif is like
leaving that person.
So guilty.

The calls have stopped by now.
Everyone seems to think that once I've emerged,
that I'm fine.
That the supporting job is done.
They don't realize,
that by the time I'm ready to talk,
that's when I actually do need them.
A lot.

Few realize
that I don't need anything from them
but time
and love.

I don't need to cry
all the time.
I just need to know I can.
And have a shirt to soak with tears.
One that isn't mine.

When?

I can't imagine
a love
that promises
not to leave.
Does it exist
outside of God?
Maybe when I truly
stop being afraid
and learn to trust,
maybe then it will come.
Maybe all I need is
more faith.
I doubt it,
though.
Love isn't really
like that.
Love can be wonderful.
It can also be gone
tomorrow.
When will I trust someone?
When I trust myself to be okay
when they leave.

The reader.

My life is foggy, but books are clear.
I block myself from my own life's story,
but as I crack open books, they crack open me.
And I feel.
And I cry.
I hate crying, but books always do it to me.
Do I read because I'm a masochist, then?
I think I read because it's easier to let myself feel
and cry over someone else's life
than it is to let mine sink in.
Then again, I always find my own life,
myself,
in the books I read.

A Self-Portrait

My name is Kaylie, and I cannot capture reality.
I capture only what I think.
I trust nobody.
Two years later and I still cry over my dead dad.
All. The fucking. Time.
I keep a wall up for nobody to penetrate.
Some people, however, make chips in it, and I hate to love them for it.
I've been left in a smorgasbord of ways.
Death. Betrayal. Emotional and physical distance.
Pure old people getting sick of my shit.
You name the poison, it's gone through my system.
Abuse. Insanity. Mania. Depression.
But I love the world.
God loves the world, and He loves me, so I don't have much of a choice.
I hate it, but I love the people,
as stupid as they are,
I love the way they laugh.
I feel everything.
Wind. Petals. Heartache.
I smell. I taste.
Oh, do I smell and taste.
And I sing.
I sing to purge everything in me out.
I sing to let everything outside of me in.
I sing to stay alive.
I don't really fall into love.
I fight it with everything I've got.
No, love falls into me.
WHAM. And I fall. Hard.
Catch me on a line and I'll take you, hook, line, and sinker.
Just remember that in that situation, the hook can't be detached.
The fish bleeds.
I'm still waiting for that one kind of love that I would kill for.
The kind that promises not to leave.
I pray for it every night.
I don't care from where it comes.
In the meantime,
I have a wonderful boyfriend
and what I would call the best friends in the world,
as well as so many random, laughing strangers
and songwriters
and trees
and chocolate eclairs.
What can I do besides love?

So, this is what happens when brainy white girls try to freestyle

I'm tired of people thinking girls are something to push around,
so I hope that you will see you can't just knock me down.
I have a rhythm, I've got talent, and I know you will find,
that the cool thing about me is not my figure, it's my mind.
Just because I'm entertaining doesn't mean I'm here to entertain,
and just because I'm a model doesn't mean I have no brain.
I walk down the street, people tell me I'm hot,
they think it makes me happy, but I'll tell you it does not.
If you're noticing my looks, that just makes me depressed,
because that means my fire and wit have yet to impress.
I know that when you see a girl, it's just a reflex
to instantly think about her in terms of sex,
but please, take a moment to look at the girls
and think about them as citizens of this spinning world,
and if you come to meet me, it's okay to say hi,
but if you're not into thinking, you can pass on by.
I know that by speaking my mind I intimidate,
but that's just a test to see who will initiate,
and I can tell you now, that you're sick in the head,
if you think that acting into me will get me in bed.
I have a body, but that's not what I'm all about,
and if you don't respect it I will take you out.