Game of Chance

Dice roll across the glitter table,
tumbling, running every which way,
never knowing when they'll stop.

Cards dealt on the green,
snapping with the turn,
never knowing what will come up.

Slots flash their symbols by,
clinking with the roll,
never knowing what will show.

Everything is just a game,
a game of chance,
a chance at love,
a chance at success,
a chance for a win.

Can't Forgive

I can't forgive the past
or leave it in the dust
but I can move on and live my life
how I want to live
not how they expected me to.
I can rise above
and leave them on the ground.
I can show them
just who I am.
No more will I wonder.
No more will I regret.
I only need those around me
that care and can forget.
I can be me, no matter him.
And I will walk with confidence
and beat them at their own game.
For I am me.

Chop

Once the idea was there, there was no going back.
There would be no more messes in the morning
or battles with the endless curls and knots.
No more wet t shirts after the daily shower
or hair ties going missing after each new style.

Sitting in the chair, there was only embracing the present.
There was watching each inch drop off the ends
and ounce by ounce, my head would lighten.
There was only a smile crossing my lips
of the anticipation of the new.

Finishing up, there was much rejoicing.
There was the enjoyment of the shortened locks
and the pictures snapped of the long gone curls.
And just that little cut, embraced my personality
and introduced the new me to the world.

Stranger in the Crowd- revised

Lights flashing overhead, blinding those that dare.
Beats filling every corner and crack, addicting.
Sparkles flying off shirts and tops, glittering off the walls.
Caught flooded in the crowd, lost.

Bass keeps drawing me to the floor, hiding me.
Drink drains my head, making left right and right left.
Men come up from behind, taunting.
But I'm only surfing through the crowd, looking for you.

But you're gone, scared away from the crowd and the loud.
Left me to die in this mess of flesh, beating and sweating.
Suffocating under the heat, crumbling to the dirt soaked floor.
Water drips in my face, eyes blinking uncontrollably when everything goes black.

Girlfight

You wanna do this?
Whites of eyes pop, glaring.
Muscles ripple and flex, angry.
First contact is made, a light punch.
Another punch of the fists, harder.
Slaps join the punches, testing.
Nails come out, breaking skin.
Teeth latch onto fresh flesh, ripping.
Hair pulled from roots, pain.
Body on other body, fury.
Pain seeps into bones and nerves, ow.
Mercy.

Stranger in the Crowd

Lights flashing overhead, blinding those that dare.
Beats filling every corner and crack, addicting.
Sparkles flying off shirts and tops, glittering off the walls.
Caught flooded in the crowd, lost.

Bass keeps drawing me to the floor, hiding me.
Drink drains my head, making left right and right left.
Men come up from behind, taunting.
But I'm only surfing through the crowd, looking for you.

But you're gone, scared away from the crowd and the loud.
Left me to die in this mess of flesh, beating and sweating.
Suffocating under the heat, crumbling to the dirt soaked floor.
For a second the crowd clears and there stands you, found.

On the Edge

I'm on the edge,
fighting to understand,
battling the enemy,
because I will never get it,
I'll never win the fight,
but I'm going to try
because I'm on the edge.

I'll stand on the edge,
leaning over the side,
walking the line,
bravely grazing down,
ready to jump,
off this edge.

I'll step away from the edge,
once you grab for my arm,
and pull me away from danger,
hold me close,
scold me for trying,
but I'll be good once you
teach me to stay away from the edge.

Just a Walk in the Park

just a humid summer evening,
where lazing on the porch
turns into an evening car ride.
when grandpa says let's go
just don't tell your parents
as we drive off to the park.

Mittineague Park, West Springfield, MA
the heart of nature
where balancing along the edge of stone bridges
and calling out loud to birds is ok,
when everything was happy.

when picking wildflowers with grandma,
and attempting to learn bird calls with grandpa,
is how i spent my summer days.

but not anymore, oh no.
the old bridge is covered in gang graffiti.
the wildflowers are gone.
and the birds don't sing half as loud.

i can't bring my grandparents back.
i can't go back there and be the same.
but i have the memory,
i have the thoughts
and i can remember
forever.

Sweatshirt

Sitting in a clump in the back of the closet,
curled up and crumpled in a ball,
sat that sweatshirt, that piece of you.

I threw that sweatshirt out the door,
the day I found you didn't care anymore,
when I no longer felt safe inside its folds.

Getting that ball of blue out of my life,
was the best decision I could ever make,
when the cascade of fabric no longer fell to my knees.

So many things that I wished had happened,
So many emotions I wish were told,
but they weren't; they bundled in the sweatshirt,
hidden in your masked fragrance. 

I no longer miss that sweatshirt,
I'm done pretending like it hurt,
it needed to happen
and now I know why.

I just needed to say one final
Goodbye.

The Man With a Smile

Rest in peace, Marc Middleman. You will be forever missed and in our hearts.

I once met a man who always had a smile on,
who always reached out and helped all in need,
who loved his family more than anything.

I knew a man who always had a smile on,
who cared deeply for the world,
and was forever a fighter.

I miss that man who always had a smile on,
but I know he is safe and in heaven,
singing and dancing with the angels.

Banana Split

Torn into pieces, tugged and worn
like the old rope we used to use in tug of war battles
or the banana you peeled for the ice cream split.
Confused and muddled, self or forbidden love,
decisions, always decisions. head hurts like a spark
from the electric fence we used to play near.
or your hands when you tried to open up the cherry jar.
dreams fogged with the mist and dew
covering the ground we used to camp on.
or the sprinkles gracefully falling on the cold mounds.
giving up in the epic battles when
we used to wrestle to the floor,
tripping over the video game cords.
or the gentle twists of whipped cream.
Tangled and forgotten, left alone to rot,
sitting in the ice blue bowl.
one day, maybe one day,
all will mend, make sense
and the ice cream king will appear again.

May Blog Update

I'm going to try and write monthly updates on the status of the blog. First of all, I'd like to celebrate a big milestone.
 
1,000 PAGEVIEWS!

I'm really proud of that. Thanks followers. You really made that possible. In other news, 101 days until I see the Uhart campus again! It's sad that I'm already counting down. I don't think I realized just how slow life was back home. However, with that thought, I will have more time to write some new poems and get some new inspiration. Daily walks and bike rides have now become the norm here and I'm hoping to find something new and exciting to write about.

Also when I get back to campus, I will be starting my class that specializes in poetry so I'm hoping some good works come from that. And with that, welcome to summer and I'm very optimistic for the future of this blog.

Sincerely,
Kaitlyn

The Blackest Swan

Everyone has a bit of the black swan,
graceful Odile come to mess up the day.
Everyone hides a bit of their true self,
within the flashy white feathers.

There lies a more powerful spell
than that placed on Odette.
There is one that pulls away the black curtain,
reveals the truth and pulls at the tiara.

It sits in the darkest corner of the heart,
dusted over and many times
too many people let it rot,
too many people forget the feeling.

It surges to the soul,
rushes a pang of confusion,
but then,
then there is finally a peace.

It is once that feeling of love,
evokes its true intentions
that the confusion washes away,
like the dusted coating on a shining pebble.

The Swan Queen will rise again.
Odette will be at peace in the sky,
much like the heart after a winter storm
after the warmth of the fireplace.

Unexpected

Like something out of a storybook,
he came to me,
running through the musty fog.

I did not have time to prepare,
brush my hair,
or ready my eyes.

I had no hope that I would find
someone quite like him,
but I fell fast and down I went.

An electric shock, surging through my system,
he startled me,
brought me to life.

Crossed my fingers, but never hoped to die.
embraced the smile,
and hugged the laugh.

Looked up at him, through the clouds
allowed myself to love,
and to dance right along with him.

Patience by Ryan Dagenais

I have to put this day to rest
Almost beat my very best
These plans and dreams, I’m the keeper
When you trust me, I’ll be teacher

Little trouble, little worry.
For once I’m not in a hurry
To push the one that I may hold dear
Into something she may fear.

Of such trust, am I worthy yet?
To make her happy, my life I’ll bet
That I would try with all my might
To have that smile in my sight.

Tiny Gem

I once held a tiny gem
quietly in my hand.
Sparkles of sunlight
glittering off its silver surface.
Beads of shine on
delicate chain.

But that gem ran away.
rolled out of my hand
and onto the scary street.
down the endless storm drain
and far far away.

It must have found someone
it loved more deeply than I
because months and months
came and went
and the fragile jewel
hid from sight.

Maybe it found someone prettier
more worthy of its shine.
with a more beautiful
sloping neck
or discovered a place
hidden in the caves
with all of its friends.

I miss my little gem.
I miss it around my pale neck.
I wonder if someday,
maybe sometime,
it will roll back to me.