Disappointment

Reality

It's a hard lesson to learn, 

That what you think,
Everything thing you feel.
Doesn't matter one bit.
To someone who says,
You mean the world to them. 
When you'd move mountains for them, 
If you could.
Everything you do,
Everything you say,
Every move you make,
Is made with them
And their feelings in mind.
Then their words sting like whips, 
The intent is hard to miss.
Cutting like knives across your heart.
Carving the pain into your soul.
Leaving you scarred.
Believing you're not good enough,
It's too much to hope for to be happy.
It's too much to wish that you'd be loved. 
Fully and unconditionally accepted.
Wishing to be treasured.
That your heart would be held With care.
That you'd find a love,
Whose words are chosen wisely. 
Makes promises they keep. 
And whose love would soothe your wounded soul.
 
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Version 1... it's not really done....

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Self Abuse

You raped me, yes it was consensual
but the feelings you had towards me were strictly sexual
You stripped me of my clothes, as well as my feelings
im now hoping for an ounce of healing
i came only for you
but you had me wandering without a clue
i was left stranded, naked, and alone in bed
im wanting to make sense of whats left in my head

 

You took advantage of my weakness, which has always been you
i use to be bright but i cant help but to feel so blue
i am no longer your katherine baby
because im always wishing and hoping maybe

 

not once in my life have i felt so alone
the love i have for you hurts each and every bone

 

why would you rape me of almost everything
what is now left wont stop melting

 

Please dont blame yourself
its completely my fault

 

Its my fault i allowed to be used
ill go ahead and admit it was Self Abuse

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

please tell me what y'all think. thank you

Welcome To The Coffee Shop

Folder: 
My Favorites

 

Welcome To The Coffee Shop ©

 

(Kyla G. Bingham, Oct-Nov 2014)

 

Welcome to the coffee shop. I’m your barista; please allow me to tell you about the menu.

 

Our house blend is an acquired fondness—quite bold and assertive—so if your tastes are delicate, I hope it doesn’t offend you.

 

Give it a chance to play on your tongue, refine your palate; don’t just hastily spit it out.

 

If you take a moment to savor its flavor and let it give you a jolt, it might just save you a carafe of complications and a decanter full of doubt.

 

Don’t turn away—this is no time for feigning ambivalence, rolling your eyes, being complacent.

 

If you’ll swallow the potion I’m offering, you’ll avoid a lifetime of serious debasement.

 

So please feel free to cozy up to the bar or find yourself a seat.

 

Or since we’ll be here for a bit perhaps you’ll prefer to warm yourself by the fire…go ahead and make yourself at home—kick off your shoes and prop up your feet.

 

Now that you’re settled, as I said this’ll take a minute because some things are percolating, some heavy truths are boiling over, ready to be spoken.

 

Like the fact that you keep listening to the seductive hiss and rattle of tantalizing words that quickly become promises broken.

 

Why? Why did you think that just because his kettle whistled for you that he was ready to fill your heart to overflowing like the fruition of your every dream?

 

Turns out he was just passing air through his lips so now you’re pissed and blowing steam.                 

 

Did you somehow think that giving everyone a dollop of your cream would make you more mature?

 

I’m sorry, love, but that reverie is curdled, and you are your own worst saboteur.

 

You fell for a sultry French kiss and a full body press.

 

And now like the potent, dark liquid that flows through a French press, your dignity is slowly drip, drip, dripping and pooling on the floor with your eagerly and easily discarded dress.

 

You give it up so easily so what do you expect?

 

Offering it all and passing out samples of your “cup of Joe” to every John so now all you have is a double shot of misery and a venti sized serving of disrespect.

 

Your java is interchangeable; they don’t care if you’re caramel, mocha, espresso or chai.

 

They just want the flavor of the day—don’t forget to add the whipped cream and chocolate syrup—drink you down and then a fast goodbye.

 

Wipe his mouth, then wad you up and discard you with the trash.

 

Then get back in line for another mouthful of low self-esteem and decisions that are rash.

 

What’s that in the bakery display case? Yeah, go head and wrap up a sticky bun and a scone.

 

Cuz as long as he feigns attention, nibbling on your confections and affections, you just won’t leave it alone.

 

By the way, this ain’t the only location he frequents—seems every corner has a franchise.

 

Here he’s a banker, there he’s a baller—he’s a sultan of subterfuge and a doyen of disguise.

 

And you keep falling for the ruse not realizing that doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome is the textbook definition of insanity.

 

Maybe you’re perfectly matched because you’re the queen of SSDD which leads to pregnancy and STD and the loss of your very humanity.

 

You need to snap out of it, change your M.O., and have a little bit of pride.

 

Because at the rate girls like you are going, it’s becoming self-inflicted “gendercide.

 

Now look at you all upset, froth just foaming from your lips.

 

Rabid because you should have made him buy the mug instead of handing out all those free testers and sips.

 

Did you even think to use a coaster? No, you didn’t. I see the evidence of your negligence in the form of rings of condensation.

 

You just charge through the chute like a mare to be mounted and totally skip the need for mental sublimation.

 

You don’t even bother with cognitive stimulation.

 

Don’t know the intense pleasure of a demitasse of tea with a side of penetrating conversation.

 

Perhaps you should consider falling in love between your ears instead of lust below your waist.

 

Perchance then you won’t have so many experiences you wish could be erased.

 

Your baseless carnality is empty…a study in ineffectuality.

 

There’s so much deeper and more lasting fulfillment in being an out and proud proponent of sapiosexuality.       

 

But you refuse to think first, you’re stuck in a loop of reckless action then regret that can at best be called illogical.

 

Actually, it’s beyond that; it’s a disease, and your behavior is pathological.

 

Once the deed is done, you can’t undo it no matter how you beg, steal or borrow.

 

It’s the unchangeable unilateral flow of time: it’s impossible to rewind to yesterday, and there be no such thing as tomorrow.

 

So there you have it, the straight, unsweetened brew, and though it was bitter and acidic, I hope you listened up and banked it.

 

Because there are no refunds on a beverage once you already drank it.

 

But sadly most ignore the expert suggestions of their well-meaning barista; the say she’s abrasive and curt.

 

They disregard that she’s studied well the proffered libations and human inclinations to opt for the cloyingly sweet—and so she helplessly watches as they reap the ensuing world of hurt.

 

Now you’re shattered on the ground, tears spilling and spreading all around like the fluid caffeine from a broken coffee cup.

 

No, you can’t change your mind and listen now.  Sorry the bell has already rung. Next in line, and as for you, “order up”.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is the first totally new poem I've written in about a year. I hope you enoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cool

 

-Kyla

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Roar

Why did you begin to act rude Is it the pride, arrogance or a swing of mood Think it makes me weep, or in my bed don't sleep? Bad news, you've mistaken. It's dust that will vanish with a sweep Your actions and words wont even hurt me, nor make me towards my grave crawl , curious why? Because in the end I care no more, you can bark and I can roar. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first try.

I feel quit lonely here, about to burst in to tears.

I feel quit lonely here, about to burst in to tears. I can't imagine how my heart really feels, but I know I feel tired of the lies everyone tells me. I think my heart is hurt by all the pain I hold inside me. I feel like screaming till my voice is gone completely, like crying and never stopping just how rain happens, like running after something that's not really there but I keep going because I'm so confused of everything that's going on. I wanna say I'm sorry but why should I, if I'm not the one hurting anybody, I'm the one getting hurt but I still hold it in till I can't no more and then explode of all the pain, jealousy, anger, madness, and love, the one thing I fear most sometimes. I try being someone else because I wanna forget who I am, I wanna be someone who no one lies to and never leaves me waiting. I wanna be that girl who everyone loves, just like everyone loves the Fresh air of the beach when there walking in the sand with their love ones. But I will always stay stuck here wanting everyone to stop lying to me and tell me truth about how they feel. There's only one thing in life I want the most and that's to love the ones that are there for me and have never lied and to succeed in life with the goals I have in mind. I feel quit lonely here about to burst in tears. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this poem yesterday, I guess I didn't feel good about something or someone.  I guess i was just tired of all the lies and the untruthness. I don't know how it sounds but I just wrote what ever came out from inside of me. We live in a world full of lies, hate, jealousy and confusion and maybe its bringing me down Sometimes And wrote something about it. 

What Happened To That Little Girl? -TITLE HELP NEEDED-

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

I was a happy little girl.

 

I wore poofy dresses,

and spun in them happily.

 

I ran around and played 

with both boys and girls.

 

I was a bit of a tomboy,

didn't mind getting dirty.

 

 

I ate apples instead of candy.

 

I climbed on anything

that I possibly could!

Alone with somethings that

no one though that I could!

 

 

I was such a happy little girl!

 

I smiled all the time,

I laughed at so many things,

I did just about anything!

 

I talked to strangers,

made friends in the blink of an eye!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Work in progress!

 

Help with title is needed and will be greatly appreciated! 

To Become

Society's filled so dark
A sickness fit to last
A hasty hungry shark
A one that bites the glass

The air turns a poison mist
and the grass turns to a distant waste
A glare becomes a fist
and then a flower becomes erased











Throttle Crockett

Your first bottle rocket was a let down.

Thereafter they

represented a

recurring thematic occurrence that

chased down your heels,

like bear traps on wheels,

until you fell with your back to the ground;

eyes turned skyward,

and hands planted firm.

 

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Relationship

It was five years ago when we met of the side of Monaco 

You held my heart in your hand and told me, lets just be friends 
It was first sight for me... Yet to you it was only a dream 
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