I write to express myself.
I write to create.
I write to discover.
I write because I can’t NOT do it.
I write because I enjoy writing.
I write to share a little bit about myself and to learn a lot about myself.
I write cause I’m inspired.
I write to inspire.
I write for me.
I write for you.
I write to feel better.
I write to purge.
I write to love.
I write because I love.
I write because I hate.
I write for all the times I could not speak.
I write to reflect. I write to relate.
I write to release.
I write to recognize.
I write to recharge.
I write to record.
I write to refrain.
I write to repair.
I write to return.
I write to revolt.
I write to revolve.
I write to remember. I write to forget. .
I write because it makes the loneliness feel less lonely.
I write because I learn from writing.
I write because it’s what keeps me from pulling the trigger too quickly.
I write because I want to write…
because I need to write and because I love to write.
Tag: creation
Amateurs (don’t take things or this so seriously)
thirteen ways to kill your lover
a hundred and one ways to die
Thirteen ways
To kill your lover
A hundred and one ways to die
It pays
To be
Cemented in your ways
Or does is pay to be
Wild in the streets
Like a wild card
Jump up jump around
New York girls
Are too hip
As they hop
To the top
of the Empire state building
Which I don’t care to ever climb
A Hot house
As Cold
As your unbearable heart
Finish what you start, you say
As everything slowly starts to shift
Deterioration, they said
Right before it was dead
It was everything that ever was
That is not a thing any more
That couple over there
Kindly lent their owner
To the dogs
Frequencies are
Less frequently
Felt in the air
The less we care
The more we
Dread
The dead
That’s a coming
Round the bend
So buckle up partner
It’s coming to the end
The perfect partner
Of An imperfect pair
Doesn’t dare
Taunt
The electronic wizard
Or
The human lizard
But will haunt
The Spirit hunter
And the Catholic priest
Who will soon sit down
For the mighty feast
And break some bread
And both get fed
The last supper
Is a coming soon
Blasted allegories
Blast past noon
You are Not there
In the making
the making that never was
Was never there within you
Take me to the river
Drown me in the water
Let it cover me up
And Let my body sink low
The more you say
The less you know
Misleading
Misreadings
Draw on you now
Like the raise of an arm
And the hand that signals the alarm
To wake up
Wake up
WAKE THE FUCK UP
Before it’s too late
wait it already is …
-kyoko cole 2017
i used to write (i’m writing now)
finding the way through fears. finding myself and the freedom that comes from knowing thy self.
i used to write
my heart out
without any doubt
without any fright
but somewhere along the heartache and years
there seems to be a build up of unsound fears
that accumulate
in a frantic state
inside an emotional ride
takes me to the other side
automatic
erratic
sick and unfit
the only way out
is to move through it
be silent and still
and in the right state of mind
i find
myself
and know myself
better than to let
any thing or anyone
get
me down –
the truth is those things don’t matter to me
i matter to me
knowing myself is what sets me free
-k.c.
skin loves fever 