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there are still monsters hiding under the bed of my body
under my skin, between my legs, in my hair
there are cobwebs that i won’t let anyone sweep away
for fear of awakening the creatures down below
you tell me to reach in and pull the monsters out
to be brave and go inside, claws first, and rip them from me
but you don’t understand how sharp their teeth are
how strong they’ve gotten while existing in me
i am not brave enough to reach in on my own

Allowing Failure

“You become a writer by writing, there is no other way. So, do it. Do it more. Do it better. Fail. Fail better.” -Margaret Atwood

I haven’t been blogging for a while because I’m working on a larger project in my free time. It’s time I put myself out there and allow myself to fail.

This is the largest project I’ve ever worked on and it’s pretty daunting and hugely exhilarating. I hope to share it with you eventually.

As always, thanks for reading.

-K

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would you ever want to give us a chance again
to let me redeem myself for being too independent,
for not knowing how much you would consume me
in the future, and allow me to fill your empty beer cans
with words of love and feelings of content
so that each time you drink you are full of me
and I remember my doubts as just that,
as a weed growing in the lines of the pavement,
not as a crack in the sidewalk itself
I want to prove it to you almost as much
as I want to prove it to myself

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i know you don’t think of us as friends, but i do. when i see you walk in the door, i want to take your hand and guide you through my past experiences so that we might understand each other better. so that you might understand me better. maybe it is not friendship that i seek, but attention. validation. acceptance.
i would love it if you saw me.