Chris

Now that you’re gone

I have no one by my side

To help me through

That person was always you

Now i feel the loneliness

Of being truly alone

You were the greatest friend

I have ever known

That this world has ever shown

I’m not alright

I’m not okay

Just take me back

To a better day

You were always there for me

And I’m so grateful for that

And for you

Until we meet again

I love you…

My sweet friend

Hank

You were great

I’ll miss you

We will all miss you

Forever…

Memories that smell like gasoline

Out of the red

Waist down

skirt around

and flirt the hurt down

Paste it onto

an album
that plays around

An old familiar sound

The Torn down pages
of a beat down life
that can’t be found

Many In the streets
Fake the funk
full of junk
to fill you up
With make believe
as they Make it up
bitterSweet Buttercup
Sell yourself

short

As someome else
Churn it in
And turn it into
Anything else
Anything other than truth

weeping at your face

I can’t replace

What is now long gone

Waves of static
Take the place

And stretches the space

That lies
Between me and you

SaveSave

Amateurs (don’t take things or this so seriously)

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

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a.d.w.a.y – (something i wrote exactly 4 years ago tonight)

a.d. w. a. y. ?

you would write a thing or two and

toss it a million ways around

the net-

-work

it’s way aross the many screens

i didn’t think twice

when it would

sometimes hit me

sometimes miss me.

but now i find myself missing you

you were lonely then

like me now

searching for something

that only exists with some people

and even some people have exhausted it

but you were sensitive like me

i could feel that between the static

i could feel that between the lies

the lies of life

we see

and run into

and

all i can think about right now

is the empty

and the space

the negative

the silent

on the memory of something

notifiations never-

tag my name now

no notes

no news

not

nothing

new

comes now

from you

you’re nowhere to be seen

please

come

back

my friend

you don’t know how much you mean

to me 🙂

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poisoned brain

don’t want to try
to do anything different
than what hasn’t worked
a whole life time
but it’s never you

or it always you
but that’s just what you’ve expect for yourself
even though you are more than that
sometimes

but sometimes isn’t enough i guess

when you don’t see it

and when you don’t care

how can anyone else?

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It’s not my time or maybe it’s exactly that

I might have let it get to me
What I feel
What I see
What is what
What is not
I don’t know
What is real
i don’t know
much of what is
other than
what i feel
And what’s really to be
What you
do
and
do not
show
And what all is
left over
Rinsed out
the residue
Really has got a hold of me
For the time being
for now
but
Not forever
The hazy
Dazy
Lazy
crazy
Glue
of me
But nothing
ever sticks to you
All that is
or isn’t
ever true
with you
You can quickly cut
You can easily undo
as i struggle to make my way through

it all..
From a reaction
without any
satisfaction

What it is
what isn’t
and what it never was
and what it will never be
as anger grows
and confusion shows
only breeds
more negativity
and nothing more
out of  nothing less
with less and less humility
Tear down everything
Instead of build  up
now lost
as
we lose
No trying
to understand
No one
to hold my hand
lack of care
Lack of love
i ask for a miracle
or something more
from up above

i don’t know the name
it all starts to become the same

as everything before
until there is no more

we all lose ourselves out there somewhere
but where are you …???
and where am i???

20 years have gone by too soon
come back down
to this place
underneath the timeless moon

Not your ex

Treat me like I am
But I’m not.
Treat me like I am
I don’t care.
And I won’t
So
I.dont
And you
Can
Do whatever you like
Say whatever you will.
Fill whatever you fill
Love somebody else
And I will do the same.
You don’t want to play this game
But you do
With
Everyone else
And I
Don’t care
As long as you are happy
I’m happy you are happy

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.

Early morning 5am

Woke up early
Went to bed late
Saw a friend
Who made me smile
And for a little while
I held on
Only to be okay
With letting go.

image

-kc

c’mon baby

i know
sometimes it’s me
but i like you
and you’re worth it

i gotta let it in
(let you in)
and let it go
(let fear go)
and give up
the fight or flight
shit i do
that is never right
and never good
and never works out for me
this time
i want it
to be different
and as good as it can be

goodnight

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the ghost of my friends

This is not a prison.

This is a trap.

I am the bait.

___________________________________________________________

Having balls is a good thing
having raw passion is a good thing and a rare thing.
To have both passion AND balls is what makes someone great.
I miss the great ones

I miss the lovers
and the dreamers/creators
I miss the artists
I miss the tortured souls- the poets…the journeymen …
and I mean the real ones
the real risk takers
the real love makers
the ones that do what they were born to do
unafraid of being who they really are
the ones that live for what they love
and the ones that love to love.
it has nothing to do with image
and everything to do with heart and soul
and pure being
I miss the truth in them
I miss their passion
I miss having them around
I miss them knocking at my bedroom window at 3am
driven by desire
driven by love
and…That feeling –
that wonderful feeling of hope and wonder
and the excitement in life and love
I miss the fire

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-kyoko cole  2008