All The Difference

The cloak of fear lay over me like a heavy blanket

I had been stumbling forward blindly
Searching for something
Feeling along the cracks and crevices of this tunnel
For a familiar pattern

Nothing
I found nothing.

Until one day my tired hand
brushed against a tiny thread
It wasn’t by chance I had found it
It was as though upon grabbing it
I knew I had been moving towards it
All along.

That single thread
I held on to,
And I began to unravel what had been keeping me in the dark
Row by row,
Fear after fear
I became stronger,

And I finaly saw with clarity for the first time
A flicker of light
A ray of hope
And even though I was still in darkness
And even though i didn’t know where i was
I knew i wasn’t alone

It was I that was holding me back
I was afraid to move forward
I was doing this to myself
I was perpetuating the darkness

And knowing this makes
All the difference

Advertisements

And That’s Life…

And that’s life
Swirling
Breathing
Turning
Twisting
Into everything
You
Didn’t
Want

Sometimes you get it
Most of the time
You
Don’t

It will break you
Chew you
Grab you
Choke your every dream

And in one single instant
The candle you once had burning
Will extinguish
And then you’re in darkness

Searching for a match
Or the sun
Only to find
The journey you’re on
Isn’t ending anytime soon

And then suddenly
You realize
You’ve been carrying
A match all along.

Texas is a Part of Me

Texas is a Part of Me

Sometimes it will hit me
Like I’m running into a wall
And then something pulls at me
And tugs inside of me
And I get a sense of longing
And a sense of sadness
That I can’t ever cope with

And as much as I’ve tried to forget that place
It keeps stirring inside of me
Its part of who I am
Part of what made me
Part of how I view the world everyday
The heat from those days
Still burns inside of me

And yet its that heat I search for
It’s a million people crowded in a city
It’s a hot plate of Tex-mex food
Or a cold Shiner beer
Its my family and I laughing on the river
And me being pushed into a lake
The water rushing above me
and the unseen happiness on my face

The humidity of the gulf coast
Curling my hair
Searching for crawdads in the river bed
That unbearable heat
Only cured by a glass of iced tea

And as much as I try to run from it
Texas is a part of me
In Montana
They don’t understand
Why I cook enough for an army
Why my food tastes so good
And why I sometimes prefer the heat

It burns in my skin
And makes me feel alive
Brings back all those memories
Those smiles, laughs, and cries
Texas I miss you
And your often on my mind

Somewhere near Bastrop

Somewhere near Bastrop, Texas

Loopy

Loopy

Creativity
Gone

Brain capacity
Reached

Headache
Set in

Anxiety
Full swing

Frustration with it all
Gripping

Ability to relax
Non-existent

Sleep
Inevitable

Depression
Overtaking me

Anger
Maddening

Sadness
Pulsating

Hope that it will end
Fading

Likelihood of getting back to normal soon
Unlikely

2 weeks, I had 2 weeks of almost clarity
then a relapse.

Why can’t I move on already
Get it out
Leave it all behind?

I wish I wasn’t so hard on myself,
But then again I always am.

I cant change the way my head is wired
Even as those wires lay tangled in a mangled mess

And it’s frustrating beyond belief
I can feel it ache in my joints
In my teeth
And in the constant neck ache that plagues my skull

And I wish I could write again
But then my thoughts go blank

I can’t ever get organized these days
I make lists
And the lists turn into a jumbled mess
That never gets completed
Or checked off in the correct order
And it hurts my brain

And as I do this
As I lay confused and broken
I can feel my brain turn to mush
And I just get
More Confused
More Frustrated
More Overwhelmed
Even more Mad
And just plain
Freaking Loopy.

Socrates (Ze Kitty)

Image

Socrates. Photo by: Kelsey Marie Photography.

Socrates

No not the philosopher
Although, she might as well be one
Asleep on the window sill
Purring at the base of the heater
She sits silently for hours each day

I assume she’s pondering life
What else would a tiny kitty be doing?
Soc (for short) could be a Russian spy,
After all she has a Russian-American accent.

Her black and white Calico coloring
Suits her personality quite well
Sometimes she’s black
and sometimes she’s white
Sometimes she’s happy and content
Sometimes she’s clawing at all the loose paper
On my desk.

What really is upsetting to her however,
Are the birds outside my apartment.
She sits on the window sill
and flips her tail furiously at
These nasty old pigeons in the alleyway on the side of
My 100 year-old red brick apartment
They sit within inches of her
Yet she’ll never catch them
As they are on the other side of an old window
That’s been painted shut

She whines upsettingly at them
And plops herself off the ledge
With a furious “brreowww”
And she makes her way back to me
She does figure-eights around my ankles
Until she finally jumps up into my lap
Where she begins to knead herself to sleep

Who is zis kitty one might ask?
One can never be too sure.
Shes crazy and happy and needy all at once
As I suppose most kitties are.

The only thing I know about her for sure
Is that she absolutely loves me.

ImageSocrates. Photo by: Kelsey Marie Photography.

What Happened?

What Happened?

You used to be
So full of life
So full of energy
So full of anger
So full of sadness
So full of everything

What are you now
But a numb pile of bricks

Everyday
You used to pile those bricks up
Knock them down
Build them up

This cycle of happiness
This cycle of pain
What happened to that girl
Who used to just push through the pain?

Somewhere I know she’s buried
Somewhere I know she hides
She’s waiting for you to let her out
So you can again feel life

You can’t be numb
Even if its what you wished for
Pain makes things real
Sure it makes things suck
But it makes them real

You had better take some time this summer
To write a poem everyday
No more of this numb crap
And stuffing things away

If they don’t like it
Fine!
They can put their beliefs on someone else
You’re a flame that must be tended
And never left to go out

Shake things up
Make things crazy
Don’t you dare stay stagnant
Feel everything you can
And do it now
You only have a year left
Before you grow up
Before you’re forced to calm down

So shake it up
Don’t walk the path,
Run it.

This life is short.
So quit freaking wasting it.

Somewhere Between Texas and Montana

I’ll start with the two very basic questions you would ask anyone you would meet at a bar:
“What is your name?”
“Where are you from”

My name is Kayla.

I’m from…Somewhere between Texas and Montana, and NO I’m not talking about Colorado.

I’ll be honest. I really hate answering the where are you from question. Not because I’m embarrassed or afraid to tell people, but because I really don’t have a good answer.

You see, there are those of us who never really stayed in one place for too long. Some are called Army Brats, some are called kids with single parents. Then theres those of us who had a “normal” family. A mom, a dad who works hard, and siblings and cousins and the whole lot, but who never really stayed in one place for too long. So when people ask you where you’re from, you get to paint them the picture you want to paint.

If its someone from Montana asking me, I’ll usually tell them i’m from Twin Bridges, Montana. I’ll leave out the part that i moved there when I was 13 from Texas and that I actually live 10 miles out of town in a tiny town called Silver Star. Well no not even in Silver Star, its 2 miles up the road towards Twin Bridges. And if they are not from a small town in Montana they’ll usually scratch their head and say where is Twin Bridges. Then i’ll say its by Dillon, Montana. Which i don’t want to do, because i don’t really like Dillon, and don’t want to be associated with it, but I have to because it gets the point across. You have to tell Montanan’s you are from Montana. Otherwise they ask if you are from California or give you this wierd look like “Get Out”. I know the look because I give it.

If its someone not from Montana, and they are asking me when I’m in Montana, I’ll probably tell them i’m from Butte. Which I guess I technically am. I was born here and live here now. But i’ll skip the part about me moving from Butte when I was 9 months old to Sugar Land, Texas, and how I moved back here to go to college in 2009, and how i’ve lived here ever since.

If i’m in Texas, I usually say i’m from Montana. I don’t go into what town i’m from because nobody from Texas knows of any towns in Montana. To them, if it’s not in Texas, then why worry about it you know? But i usually do squeeze in a part about how I grew up in Sugar Land, Texas and then moved to New Braunfels, Texas and lived there from age 5-13. In Texas, you have to say you belong there somehow, but they aren’t as particular as Montanan’s about you being “foreign”. Texas has maintained its friendliness through the years.

Its much easier to tell people you are from one place than to launch into your life story about how you moved around all the time. I mean if your at a bar talking to someone you don’t know and asking them where they are from, you’ve only got one of two things on your mind. 1. I’m lonely and need a friend. 2. I’m lonely and need to be kissed. Sometimes in reverse order. And launching into a sob story about how you don’t know where you’re from will not get you a friend or laid.