Know Me

You ask me who I am, and I struggle for ways to put it into sentences, short enough to not get tuned out. I shut down. I have been here since the first screened typewriter, scribing. I have created data bases of situations, books of my own creation, poetry, music and art. I ask, who are you?

Why must I repeat in short sentences years of tears and torn pens, aching and re-aching. I give it away for the frayed, broken hearts just looking to feel their Otherkin; waiting for someone to say, I read you. I get you.

I outpour because I overflow with the insensible ingesting, and so I am always recycling energy into words, stored in images and cryptic, rhyming lines.

The ones who hold the strings to me are the ones who understand everything, and even if it’s few, even its it you, dive in, then when you’ve reached the end, if you still have questions, I will drip you softly with the color of my answers.

V.K

Solitary Repsite

There are those for whom
The night opens up her arms
Embracing sadness
In the singing wind charms

For me she is closing

Closing the spaces
I once shared
Closing the trust
I once spared

She speaks of oneness
Now I know there is
No such concept
Where once I believed
I was emphatically deceived

I am not one
With the envy of the black
I am not in sync
With the attacks
Or the aftermath

I am a retracted rose bud
Surrounded by iron gates
Once open for entrance
Now closed to escape

I refuse to claim
The same energy of the envy
The discord and sick minds
I am no longer blind

I cannot be bitten
Lest I allow myself be smitten
And so I raise the bridge
Over the moat of my soul

There will be no more arrivals
To weaken my survival
No smiles to entice
Just to sink into my skin
A blood lust for my spirit
I fight against in this life

The watchers wait in silence
In the hopes I will give in
But the ending has arrived and
They’ll never be allowed back in

Mistakes have brought me here
Back inside the cave
Where all the secret memories
Are buried; a mass grave

There is no love more daring
No armor built so strong
To pull me into deception
Just to break my tender arms

War has made me stalwart
As I touch each wound and scar
Weeping in the solitude
Beneath this moon and stars

I know from whence I’ve traveled
And soon I will return
To be quietly unraveled
As their soulless wicked burns

Ashes into ashes
And dust into dust
I close my heart to block
The pulling of their lust

Back into the fluid
Of the amniotic sack
My death becomes my birth
As I trace my footsteps back

Back into invisible
Back into the light
Back into the safety
Of this solitary respite

v.k poetry

The Masks We Wear

Are we not beautiful?
Even beneath our masks,
Gifting our hearts and hiding the fear?
Are we not vulnerable and capable?

Giving

 Do you see they bring smiles
to hide the pain?

IMG_1927

and yet we cry
like rivers
swirling us
to the deep blue sea
as we weep
weep
weep

IMG_1916

Never cry more tears than you could hold in your hands. When all the world’s airbrushed it’s a sacred bond of trust.

Sometime I see right through the scenery. The first place that’s on my mind, the last place I find each time. Sometimes I swim beyond scenery. Sea moves as mercury to break its perfect skin, to dare to die from within.

Sometimes I see much more than’s good for me. The first thing that’s on my mind the last place I look each time. Sometimes I slip inside imagery, and the last thing that’s on my mind’s the first thing I’ll do each time.

Stars racing to burn out. A storm beginning to break, trees standing black against the sky. This was inevitable.

Sometimes we can see beyond our history the last place you hope to find, the one that’s been there all the time.”

Beth Orton