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Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
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Read books online » Poetry » Looking Through My Eyes by Kayla Stiles (english readers TXT) 📖

Book online «Looking Through My Eyes by Kayla Stiles (english readers TXT) 📖». Author Kayla Stiles



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Opposite Forces

Opposite Forces

3/24/09

 

Sin and Salvation,

Joy and Sorrow,

Love and Hate,

Power and Weakness.

All these opposites;

Yet always clicked together.

Don’t get the differences yet?

Here are a few more to convince you.

Peace and Unquiet,

Awake and Asleep,

Comfort and Agony,

Human and Monstrosity,

Alive and Dead.

Catch my drift yet?

Cutting and Not Cutting,

Gushing Blood and Not,

Screaming in Depressed Agony and Sitting Calmly on a Couch with Your Boyfriend.

This is how the world appears through my eyes.

Everything in opposites, each negative opposite attracted to me.

Never a freedom do I own,

Never a right way do I see.

War and Peace are practically the same thing.

Love and Hate have no differences.

Neither Life nor Death holds purpose or fortune.

All opposite forces appear the same through my eyes.

       Opposite Forces…are Evil.

School Rocks

School Rocks

 

So sick of love, so sick of hate,

Cutting down life with one big slate.

Hating how people insult the teachers,

Overloaded with preachers.

On my back is where the world’s problems rest.

Leaking out blood with each killing attest.

Roaming the streets, wild and free,

Overaggressive teens and adults, all on a spree.

Cocking a gun, flicking a knife,

Killing within seconds, an innocent life.

Seeing death everywhere, seeing pain of life…

                     Bam, you’re dead

Someday

Someday

5/3/14

10:13 pm

 

I’ll be okay someday…

I’ll be able to move on… eventually…

I’ll finally be able to wake up in the morning

Without that sick feeling in my stomach,

Without looking beside me and realizing that you’re gone,

And feeling the tears cascading from my eyes.

One day, I’ll be able to see your picture

Without crying and feeling torn in two.

I’ll be able to hang out with you again,

Just us as friends,

Without feeling like I’ve lost everything.

I may one day finally be able to look at you,

And not feel anything at all.

No longer feel the hurt, the ache in my breast.

No longer feel the love that you shattered,

The deadened feeling in my heart.

Someday, I’ll be better.

But until that day….

Well… I’m a goner..

Until that day comes, I’m still shattered and destroyed inside.

I’m demolished and dead behind these false smiles.

Constantly crying, and feeling, and remembering

Memories long gone, long dead in the past.

Was it a mistake to love you, to care about you,

To sell my heart and soul to you?

I don’t know anymore.

All I know is this:

I’m tired of wasting my tears on someone who

No longer wants me, no longer loves me.

I’m tired of hurting over someone who

Might as well just say screw you and walk out of my life for good.

I’m scarred, internally and externally.

And there’s nothing anyone can do to fix that.

But maybe, possibly, one day.

Maybe someday,

Things will be better… and I’ll be alive again…

Maybe someday… I’ll be whole again…

But for now, it is not so.

Was it a stupid of me to make,

By telling you I loved you?

I don’t know. I just want you to know that I DO love you…

And I would have given up the world for you…

But I guess this is goodbye… 

Sticks and Stones, Guns and Knives

Sticks and Stones, Guns and Knives

12/8/09

 

Sitting in a corner, all curled up, hiding from the world.

Crying like a child, yet a freshman in high school.

He’s towering over her, shouting profanities and slamming his fists,

Bruises flowering over her pale skin.

The words don’t hurt, it’s the suffering blows.

A shattering gunshot, arterial spray everywhere, a surprised groan and the slam

Of a body as it collides with the earth.

Blood streams from the perforation in his neck like a river of rust.

The smell is a dragon’s flame; sulfurous, musty, foul.

Quiet sobbing, growing louder.

Footsteps. Arguing: “Not her, not her!”. A door bursts open.

A voice, filled with quiet anger and worry.

Warm, soft arms lift her up, carry her outside.

She cries into his shoulder, a mix of grief, pain, and horror.

It begins to rain and, as God’s tears mingle with hers,

Gradually her sobs become just shudders.

Sticks and stones are like guns and knives- they break bones, spirits, and

Cause maximum pain; but words shall never hurt me.

Sticks and stones, guns and knives; all weapons of mass destruction,

All man-made ways to cause and suffering.

Words cause no pain but in your soul when uttered from a loved one’s lips.

Words are just objects used to “inject self-created pain”.

Stronger Or Not

Stronger or Not

Written: 6/6/13

 

I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.

But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.

It's still there, ringing in my head loud and clear.

But my strength is returning to me. My time to be me again, is drawing near.

I will never be the same. Oh no. Not the same.

But I might be better, or I might be insane.

Only time can tell what will happen

To this girl so fond of napping,

Cuddled up in the arms of her love,

At that time, feeling so high and above.

I've been broken, yes.            

I've been shattered inside my chest.

But if I can push through this, like a warrior,

I may no longer be the bad-news-carrier.

I might one day lift up my head,

And see the sunrise with love, not dread.

I will always love him, for he is my love.

But if I can't make it past this, I'll never again rise above.

Above all this pain, above all this heart break.

The things that watching the one you love leave tends to make.

I don't know if I'll ever love again,

For I am trapped inside my mind's den.

But if I can find the power to find love one day,

May the Goddess bless it in every single way.

I don't know how long it will take me to be able to trust,

But I don't want to live a life full of rust.

The rust of old relationships gone to hell,

The rust of a thousand promises broken without tell.

I don't want to live a life bathed in blood,

The blood of a broken heart, covered in bruises and crud.

I always wanted that perfect relationship with no fights, no anger.

But now I've come to see that there is no such thing as no anger.

All relationships start happy and then get bumpy,

But that's not a sign to end it all grumpy.

If you truly love someone with all your heart,

You fight for them to stay, no matter how tart.

You stay with them through it all,

Through the fights and through the fall.

If they leave, that's on them.

But if you leave for a selfish reason, that's on you, my friend.

If you leave behind someone who loves you with all their soul,

You might end up alone, with a dark and empty hole.

I'm just saying that I love with all I have,

But when it gets thrown in my face, it takes all I have

To not break down and nap for eternity.

I try to show you how to reach true love, even in frailty.

If you push me away because of a stupid reason,

I can't control that, today or in any other season.

But I'll leave you with this one thought:

If you had stayed, how much further would we have got?

 

I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.

But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.

 

Time

Time

3/20/14

12:16 am

 

How do you stop time?

Or at least slow it down to give you

More time with a cherished loved one?

You don’t. You CAN’T.

Time isn’t something you can control,

Like the rowdiness of a family companion (dog, cat, etc.)

Or the turning on and off of the lights in your house.

Time is a hidden force, an unseen enemy.

Lying in wait, lurking in the deepest, darkest shadows

Just beyond the sight of your peripherals.

Time is an invisible monster,

With great, giant, clawed hands

That reach out and snatch up those you hold

So dear and precious to your heart

When you least expect it.

My lord, when you least want it to happen!

Time is like that creature in your nightmares,

That one that makes you shake and quiver in the corner,

When you haven’t even seen it yet.

That creature that, as soon as you awaken,

Disappears from your mind’s eye and becomes

Just another thought-to-be-imagined demon,

That which you can never remember the face of.

Time is the darkness in the corner of your room,

Watching over you as you sleep soundly in your warm bed.

That darkness

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