Pale exit

Suicide eyes 

vicious cries

the many reasons why

I’m never heard

The lines you draw

in the slipping sand

slips right on through

your careless hands

the lines your draw

are always blurred

a bit uncomfortable 

a bit disturbed

and once again

there’s that voice that’s never heard

I could fall away too

slip away from all of you

just like the sand

let me ask you something  

will you then understand?

how much you demand?

of me 

would you still demand the same 

if I were still to be

here with you?

if you only knew

how far away I am

yet how close I am

to the end

maybe then 

you would treat me better than just a friend 

but people never know what we have

until it’s gone

and I’m not the only one 

I’m not the only one 

I’ll never be the only one

singing the same old line 

of the same old song

of how people 

rarely ever change. 

-k.c.

The Sacred Nine

One- on- one mixed-media art lessons in Los Angeles

Voice over Work

‘Cause talking is better than working

From My Reading

I spend a lot of time pondering what it all means.

Michael Lachman Writes

A Writer's Musings (And Likely Some Shameless Self-Promotion As Well)

Eclectic Theist

An outlet for my random thoughts and interests

I wonder, if I draw a line...

where would it flow...

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment Monday thru Friday and featuring a Short Play Saturday Matinee to read.

Life in Poetry, Prose and Pictures

Tales From The Life Of A Soul