She used to tell me I was funny.
Then funny turned into stupid.
She used to tell me time would pass too fast with me.
She started saying I was wasting her time.
Words like love turned into words like hate.
She used to feel like an endless moon to me.
I had to watch her fade.
It's been an endless eclipse for me ever since.
Dear…
I see somebody’s been ordering catastrophes again heartbreak, humiliation, failure, a beautifully curated collection of pain. Quite the ambitious little menu. Waiting for the stumble, watching for the fall, as though wishing loudly enough might make fate answer the call. But what we wish upon another has an uncanny sense of direction sometimes the poison thrown outward becomes its sender’s reflection. You wanted darkness somehow it taught the wounded to glow. You waited for collapse with almost religious devotion, while the supposed casualty quietly learned emotional locomotion. Every betrayal became discernment. Every abandonment drew a line. Every cruel little prediction became something left behind. And that must be terribly inconvenient digging a grave so carefully only to discover
the corpse declined the invitation.
The undertaker checking the clock, the mourners dressed in black,
while the person everyone expected buried is somewhere getting their life back.
Maya Angelou already ruined
the ending to this little tragedy:
“But still, like dust, I’ll rise.”
Not toward anyone. Not begging for recognition. Not resurrecting old bridges or confusing longing with permission. Simply rising
scarred enough to remember,
wise enough not to return, and finally understanding that you belong in my past. So bad news for the undertaker: cancel the flowers,
return the hearse, close the grave.
The person somebody hoped
would disappear beneath the dirt
learned instead how beautifully
the buried can behave when they rise.
—
KK
We always say life is so unfair. But life was never fair.
Right from our mother's womb, as soon as she conceived us and gave birth to us, she had one foot in the grave as she pushed us into this unforgiving world.
But we don't stop and think that maybe it's unfair to call life unfair, because we collected our own debts, gathering them with our hands as we go, like flowers we picked in the fields as we passed them by one late afternoon, plucking them with our hands one by one, two by two.
Sometimes we're not even satisfied, so we stretch our arms wide open to gather more debt, like the falling sakura blossoms in early and late spring, carried by the wind.
With our hands already full, we hold a huge bouquet of debt, just like the big bouquet of white roses we once held on our wedding day.
And then there are the massive debts our fathers and mothers handed down to us, left behind like large standing baskets of flowers long after they're gone.
Still, we kept on collecting debt, the way we keep pressed flowers inside an old, worn-out book.
We were born into this world debt-free, so calling life unfair for the debts that we collected is not fair.
Don't you think so?
(I wrote this because I miss her so much. It’s how I imagine me missing her feels like.)
I walk through the city of longing and what could have been. The sight of unfinished and forgotten poems stand like ruins tested by time. The faint smell of ink and despair guiding me through the city. After the starry night is woven above me I look up and see the eyes I was once imprisoned in. And to be imprisoned in her eyes once more is what this weary heart aches for. I keep walking until I reach the outskirts. I see a lone ash tree, it’s inviting me to sleep under its shadow. While I lay my soul to sleep the sound of evening breeze sounds like her breathing. The realization that I am lost in her settles on me like a warm blanket as my consciousness is taken over by restless dreams. The city was once alive but I alone am the only one here now.
Dear….
I think I might say yes to him.
Not forever just a date.
A drink, a laugh, an evening spent
testing what exists beyond old fate.
But I’d be lying if I claimed
your memory had completely disappeared. Some feelings don’t obey commands; they simply grow quieter with the years.
So maybe I’ll sit beside someone new while a little piece still aches for you. That doesn’t mean I’m going backward. It only means the feeling once was true.
Perhaps I’ll like him.
Perhaps I won’t.
Perhaps my heart will finally surprise me.
Because missing somebody from the past doesn’t mean the future has to pass me by.
—
KK
There is a quiet way you enter rooms,
not like a storm, but like the light of a newly started campfire
soft enough I don’t even notice at first
how you warm me up.
You cook for me like it means nothing,
like tenderness is just another habit
you picked up somewhere along the way,
and not a language my heart keeps trying to learn.
You feed me laughter,
small touches of care
that land in me like music—
I was never meant to memorize.
And I—
I tell myself I am fine.
I tell myself this is friendship.
I tell myself a thousand careful lies
that all sound like your name.
You speak of her
as if it is the most natural thing in the world,
and I nod along,
because I have learned
how to swallow pain quietly.
Still, there are moments—
small mercies, accidental or not—
where I feel chosen in a way
that rearranges my entire existence
into hope.
But hope is a cruel architect.
It builds cathedrals
out of people who were never meant to stay.
And I have lived too long
inside the echo of what-ifs,
pressing my ear to doors
that only open one way.
So I begin the work
of loosening your name from my breath,
not as an ending,
but as a slow release.
I am not over you.
That much is still true.
But I am learning
how to carry love
without letting it carry me back.
And that is what moving on looks like:
not forgetting,
not erasing,
just finally walking forward
with my hands no longer reaching
for a door that will not open.
Beautiful Creature, Impressed are you? In being greatly honest, I almost gave in last Friday and disconnected my heart from each of its valves to place it in a box to store it away into the catacombs of the forgotten. Don’t think of me as being overly poetically dramatic. Things were really building up and were getting the best of my emotions. I could not help but let my emotions take over me for the moment I was feeling them.
As strong as I look and portray myself to be; Yes, I do cry heavenly. I felt the strong urge and needed to. I felt a little better after I cried and fell asleep. It has been said that crying is healthy. I’m a person that can usually hold back my tears. But, I think because I am getting more wiser; my emotions have gotten stronger. I even cry when watching certain movies, television shows, and listening to music that’s overly emotionally dramatic that I can’t help the feeling…
Do you cry like I cry?
I could be wrong, but I screened shot a photo profile of another person’s face that looked identical to your’s only difference… is this person put’s their war paint on. I’ve taken notice that you don’t wear any war paint. And that’s fine with me. I love your face. Don’t be bashful to show it off. I look at that picture on the day’s that I don’t see you. Although, I do see you when I look at that picture. It helps me coupe a little. Bear with me that I do feel and hurt.
I just look back and think that if we had kept going like the way we were going before when we only knew that we secretly had feelings for each other. I just wonder from your perspective if you would have continued to talk me face to face? You had distanced your self for a bit completely almost hiding from me. You thought that you were being too up front with the way you felt in my presence. You didn’t want to lose the communication we had progressed to have as well not losing my presence, either.
But now, I hope that we will try to work on talking to each other face to face, again.
I’m actually proud of myself for initiating that I have feelings for you. I am happy that I communicated back with the few small gestures that I gave to you in order to acknowledge your subtle hinted gestures. Really…No time could be better for us. Acting on what we feel is perfect instead of going silent and standing still for all the wrong reasons.
I’d rather that we both be on an understanding that we have LOVE for each other than the thought being “Lost in Space.” To Be Continued… -DK
Do you ever wonder?
Wonder about what could’ve happened
Had we hadn’t been scared to explore
Explore the ways we light up each other’s worlds
A world that felt so cold before I met you.
Because I wonder about us,
I wonder if things would’ve fallen apart with distance,
Or maybe they could’ve gotten stronger,
I wonder why I was so scared to explore,
Maybe exploring would’ve revealed a world I was not ready to face yet,
A world that is a lot warmer.
But now, with the choices made,
I can’t help but wonder,
Wonder why I didn’t take the leap,
Wonder why I fell in love with you,
Wonder what I do now,
And wonder if you wonder too.
I wish I were different, a man reborn,
Met you where I stood, scars from battles sworn.
Thought I’d healed, yet the journey’s not done,
Growing through pain, beneath the setting sun.
To be able to match your grace,
Saw your courage, your strength, your embrace.
Met you halfway, yet stumbled and fell,
In your eyes, I saw a story to tell.
unmasked and bare,
You met me there, in a moment so rare.
Excited, happy, yet fear took its hold,
My shortcomings, a tale left untold.
love grew with time,
But so did my fears, a haunting rhyme.
You were right, words can’t change the past,
Yet in my heart, your memory will last.
your words your lustful choices made clear,
To know you, to love you, is all I hold dear.
A mirror, a partner, a friend so true,
Yet I self-sabotaged, the dynamic askew.
I wish I were better and richer for you , but u and I can’t turn back,
Committed to change, on a different track.
Not for you, but for me, to show you my heart,
In your presence, I found a brand new start.
I wish I were different, know this, my sweet&sourpatch baby my honeybun my favorite ex I ever experienced
You are loved, you are worthy, your future is clear.
In my corner, I’ll always remain,
I wish I were different, and in this, I gain.
Spirit Guide though I can not see you with my eyes
I know you are the only reason I am still alive
Spirit Guide protecting me when in the lions den
Where I can not hide,wiping the tears away when I
Cry, spirit Guide though I can not see you with my
Eyes,I know you are always by my side...
Spirit Guide hear the prayer I pray today
With every step I take please show me the way
Be near,calm my fears when I am feeling lost
And afraid, forever, forever and always
Spirit Guide hear the prayer I pray today...
Spirit Guide take my hand and lead me back to
The ancient place I come from,help me to understand
My connection better to the great one,is it through
The eyes of the eagle,the bear or the wild cat
Give me the strength I need to leave the past behind
And find peace of mind,no looking back,no more
Looking back...
Spirit Guide hear the prayer I pray today
With every step I take please show me the way
Be near,calm my fears when I'm feeling lost
And afraid,forever,forever and always
Spirit Guide hear the prayer I pray,hear the prayer
I pray today!
Searching foR You, searching for Me
8/13/26
What is love?
What is love, love?
What is love?
But I’ll always love you
What is a heart without warmth?
What is a heart without love?
What are you dreaming tonight?
Where are the stars tonight?
Why is the air so tight?
Looking for you my darling
Looking for you to save my life
Searching for relief
I'm sorry for such belief
If only I could delete the scars
Giving you back the love you long for
Giving you back smiles in the sky
Who am I but a fool and a friend ?
Who are you but a lost angel in light?
I'd give anything
You are my everything
Helping you to grow back your wings
Singing my heart out to you
Bringing back breath in your eyes
Sewing existence back into your life
I'd do it all again just to spend one day with you
I'd die all over again to be true
I'd love everyday for you
What is love without you
What is a heart to break
Just for the sake of loving you
You are are my angel in dark times
You are the light in the night
You are love
What is love, without you here?
Love, what is love?
Love
Without you
You
Without you
You
Without you
You you you you
Just one kiss before we miss
As our hearts shine on forever
My dear sweetheart
Bringing the withe out of the blue
Singing my heart out for you
M
I hate that it’s over
Dear….
There is a librarian in my mind
who refuses to remove you from circulation. I have filed the ending,
signed the necessary papers,
returned every borrowed hope.
Still, she keeps your volume
behind the desk.
Restricted access.
Naturally, she reads it every night.
She remembers paragraphs
I deliberately forgot, the warmth between certain sentences,
the chapters where love
had not yet learned its ending.
Sometimes I catch her
running her fingers over your name.
Again? I ask.
She shrugs.
Some books are terrible for us
and beautifully written. Your memory remains sentimental to the librarian, so you are still
the book she refuses to throw away.
—
KK
I thought it would be me
Stuck in that place
I apologize that you feel
Like you have to chase
I don't fancy games
Or not being clear
Have fought this whole time
And still want you near
You say no more
You don't want that with me
I feel it deeper
And I cant choose to unsee
The energy still fiery inside
You should be here
Right by my side
It's a magnetism I've never know
But if you say it again
I'll leave you alone
You are it
the one
You see
You're equipped
With the woman I need
But it's grander
More beautiful even
Please don't shut me out
No matter the reason
Day after day
I have still chose you
Through distance, through struggles
Infinitely true
Don't give up
It's not what we do
As I circle
My beautiful Goob
Dear…
Perhaps you packed my memory away
and labeled the box Deceased,
then buried every tenderness
until your mind found peace.
Good for you. Truly. Marvelous.
I’d like that talent too,
because life keeps delivering packages
containing pieces of you.
Mutual mouths mention things
they probably shouldn’t say;
places resurrect an afternoon,
songs dig up past memories somedays.
I never ordered any of it.
I’ve checked the receipt twice through.
Apparently fate has confused my address
with the cemetery of you.
Still, I won’t return to knock
upon a door I once walked through.
Some reminders aren’t instructions
sometimes memory simply proves
a heart can leave a person
before their echoes leave you.
—
KK
You’re an idiot,
you’ve always been an idiot—
or so the cruelest voice inside you whispers
when the silence becomes too loud.
He saw nothing extraordinary in you.
You built a cathedral
from glances, fragments,
half-spoken things,
and called the warmth between them
something sacred.
Perhaps you imagined it all.
Perhaps every door you thought was opening
was only the wind,
and every silence you mistook for longing
was simply silence.
So stop.
Stop reaching into the dark
for a hand that was never reaching back.
Stop breathing life into ashes
because you remember
how brightly the fire once burned.
There are some things
we keep alive only because
we cannot bear to admit
they have already died.
And maybe that is the hardest truth:
Not every connection is a beginning.
Some are only echoes—
the sound of your own heart
calling into a place
where no one is coming.
So let the echo fade.
Let the imagined future
return to the realm of imagination.
Let what you hoped for
be mourned for what it was—
not because it was foolish to love,
but because you deserve a love
that does not require you
to become an archaeologist
digging through silence
for proof that you mattered.
You do not have to keep listening
for a voice that never answers.
Sometimes healing begins
when you finally understand:
the hollow sound was never his absence.
It was the space you kept empty
waiting for him to fill.
And now—
you can fill it yourself.
You can walk away
without another explanation,
without another sign,
without one final echo.
Because some doors do not close
with a slam.
Some simply stop opening.
And sometimes
the most profound act of love
is no longer knocking.
And when it’s over,
Where do i put the love?
**Poem**
Stay awake dreaming
Thinking of the man I wish to be
For three to four hours
I walk around a university in a body that feels foreign to me, yet I look the same
thinking of the man I want to be
stay awake dreaming
struggling to leave my bed because I don’t want to face my father, I cower
thinking of the man I should be
For three to four hours
“just one more bite” I say as I grab a fist full
thinking of the man I can’t be
stay awake dreaming
I have class, I have work, I have wants, I have needs, but I make my room a bower just for me
thinking of the man I have to be
For three to four hours
My mother loves me, my mother yells, my mother says he has no reason to judge me, my mother stares, I’m not good enough for them
thinking of the man I must be
stay awake dreaming
i was once a smart man, but I’ve been consumed by sloth, I don’t want to read, I don’t want to work, I’m slowly killing myself, but I can’t stop, I don’t have the power
thinking of the man I will be
For three to four hours
I’ve been sad for most my life
At age ten, I was staring at a knife
At age twelve, I was questioning my life
One years later, I held a gun
Two years later, I stood on the ledge and they thought it was for fun
Three years later, I saw the lights fly by me and I wanted to run
Since college started, I’ve seen myself rot away
Getting bigger
Feelings dumber
Then I found someone who loved me
When she stared at me she wasn’t judging
When she laughed it was with me
My family was inconsistent
They would change how they treated me on the daily
But she was special
She was great
For once in my life I had gone several months without being sad
I had gone several months losing weight
I had gone several months feeling only love from someone
But now she’s gone
And I am sad
Every night I close my eyes I see her, but she doesn’t see me
She doesn’t love me anymore
I’ve gained twenty pounds since she’s last laid her eyes on me
She doesn’t love me anymore
I’ve spent my whole summer wondering what I could’ve done differently
She doesn’t love me anymore
I wish she could love me again
I wish I could show her I was worth being with
I wish she could see me again
I wish I could move to her city and show her we don’t need to be a myth
But she doesn’t love me anymore
i am sad
Now all I do is
stay awake dreaming
For three to four hours
Thinking of the man I could’ve been
with you
Hello,
I don't know if you'll see this, but I'll get straight to the point. I'd like you to be straightforward, and if somehow this space is actually being used as a medium for communication, then I think we may know the issue. At least one. I really love you, and I think you're a special person in general. I don't know what's going on in your life, but I feel us slipping away, and possibly, if I don't put the right words down here then you may never truly get to know what I truly think about you. So here it is:
You're very loveable. More than anyone I've met. Truly. You have a sense of humor that I can see myself growing old with. You just have a way of making me laugh with your gestures, etc. I truly enjoyed every minute of time spent with you, although I think we may have missed out on many potentially great moments and experiences, because life, as it typically does, got in the way. Who knows, I'll let you be, and if you want to talk, just come over. It will always be open for you.
Why does the wound still deeply ache,
When I was the one who chose to break?
Why do I suddenly thirst and crave
For the phantom love we couldn't save?
From the playful, gentle teasing we knew,
To the fury that left me breathless and blue,
From the quiet praise that made me glow,
To the bitter wars that laid us low
Where did the current shift its course?
Where did we lose our gentle force?
Why did I swallow the quiet stings,
When you spoke of dark and hurtful things?
Why did I sit in the silent dark,
And let you tear my aching heart?
Why did I silence the boundaries I needed,
Leaving the words of my safety unheeded?
Was it the love that held me still,
Bending my spirit to your will?
But could I have truly rewritten the script,
When I know how deeply my own soul slipped?
I tried, though my hands were shaking and small
God knows I truly gave it my all.
Why couldn't you carry my heart with care?
I wonder if love was ever even there.
As your reckless words made my tear-ducts swell,
Did a single shadow of sorrow fall?
Did your chest ever ache at all?
Why was the blame always cast on my name,
For wanting the fire of your beautiful flame?
For loving too deeply, for giving too much,
For wanting to open my life to your touch?
The joy that I carry, the colors I see
I wanted to paint them for you, to be free.
To show you that life could be vast and divine,
Far beyond the dull hatred you kept in your shrine,
The heavy resentment that buried the light.
I know you have your own way of seeing the world,
Where tiny things matter, and flags are unfurled.
I was willing to step inside your shoes,
To understand the rules you'd choose.
But were you ever going to look through my eyes?
To see where the pain and the loneliness lies?
I tried, my sweet love, to be all that you sought,
To fit in the mold that your expectations bought.
But the price of your love was too heavy a fee
I was losing myself, and keeping nobody free.