When you enter high school it’s like you trade your running shoes for a pair of feet,
always running after the next love, everything feels like butterflies in your stomach do not fall in love with an artist The first guy you met in high school was a junior, he had long hair, a bright smile and a cool guitar, he was a musician, he would always ask you to come see his gig, but you never made it eventually he fell in love with some girl, and suddenly every songs you hear on the radio feels like its him, every song is his voice and you can’t escape it do not fall in love with a musician In college the guy who sat next to you in algebra claimed to be a poet, he would make from every sentence a beautiful poem, a declamation of truth and sincerity now every passage you read, sounds like a poem, and you can’t help but feel so nostalgic whenever he recites but last summer he moved away and he left you a poem to always remember him by, you can’t help but wonder how different your life could have been, but it’s not do not fall in love with a poet In your last year as a university senior you went to your first art exhibition, Ironic, how from wet colored paint, a portrait is born, and suddenly every abstract idea becomes so clear, everything you see around you including yourself looks like a work of art, do not fall in love with a painter Before you know it you are married, two kids and one on the way, you can’t help but still wonder, about all the butterflies and running games, you don’t run anymore, What was once a beautiful portrait, a paradigm of illusion, now is just a blank canvas, and you are left on empty do not fall in love with artist because when you do they will show you what true loss looks like
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1. Friendships and lovers lost before the age of 24 hurts more than fifteen knives in your back. 2. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but second chances are for a fact sacred and everyone deserves them, every time. 3. When someone does not correspond to your love back, it does not mean you are not lovable, you are simply too full of life to be just halfway met. 4. Poems are the new prayer and after midnight conversations about life are healings that saves lives. 5. The kid who promised to never drink or smoke in 7th grade will turn to an alcoholic before he turns 20. 6. Tattoos are not sins and going to mass on Sundays does not make you a saint, but we all try, we still try. 7. Not everyone put in your pathway is meant for you to trust and regrets will make you learn why; pray for them anyway. What a year to be alive, what a time it was to not have been,
Because this was the year where I struggled the most, The year that made my anxiety come alive and haunts me at night, I was kept awake, woke up at 6 Worked 12 hours a day, I juggled 4 jobs that year, Despite my efforts to keep my head above water, My head sank first and my feet could not stay on the ground, I floated in desperation, I was begging for someone to finally notice, but no one ever did, That was the year I considered ending it all, and still no one had a clue, how desperate I was for acceptance, for me accepting myself and loving what stared at me in the mirror without constant questioning, Because in the real world, there exists no on-and off switch, In the real world, you don’t just forget about things people did or said to you, You live with it and hopefully one day pretend it doesn’t bother you anymore, That was the year I thought I had it all figured out because I saw a slight of progress, but failed miserably, And despite it all, despite what a shitty year it has been so far, I am still seeing sunrises and wonder how this crazy world is to beyond words to embark without a proper goodbye and last dance, Maybe one day in a perfect world struggles are not seen as weaknesses but a sign of strength and you will be praised for every inch of it. Recognitions are not everything,
Pride is not everything, Having your life well put together, and Coordinating your life, planning your life 10 years from now, 15 years from now, It’s not everything Pressure makes us panic, the pressure to be perfect, to be a perfect straight A student, a volunteer, a daughter, a brother, a sister, a son, a friend and at the same time having your emotions all in place together, You should know That we are not robots, Yes, we are part of this modernized world, Yes, we are the technology generation, The generation where technology wants to do its best to out –do the power of prayer, The generation that believes that giving up is the best option, The generation that is expected to succeed, But we are still learning, we are still growing Technology is not everything How do you know what mistakes mean at the age of twenty-something? Is it when you hit your face to the floor? Is it when you spend weekends drinking your sorrows away and waking up to the smell of booze, Trying to remember what happened the night before, Forgetting is not everything, Social anxiety is real, High functioning anxiety is real, Perfection is not everything We have flaws, we are flaws, From our limbs, all the way straight to our jaws, We are made of flaws and mistakes, But that is not everything, We are more than that, We are capable of forgiving and being forgiven, every single time, That is everything, We are capable of being human even when we feel the least of it, Even if the media says otherwise, Even if the generations before doubted once or twice, We are capable, We are everything, You are everything, And this world, 10 to 15 years from now, will it still be something? Doesn’t matter, not yesterday, not tomorrow, Because right now, at this moment, now, That is everything "We are so quiet, so loud, so mysterious, so predictable, Human paradigms, as the moon rises full, and bright, our paradigms shifts and suddenly all of our downfalls are clearly seen like a movie in front of you, In front of the full moon, you take off your clothes before its light along with every single piece of mistake you ever made, You get rid of it all, You erase your ego, You are suddenly a small child, scared and human Leap year It is said that the full moon comes 13 times in a year, 12 months in a year, this year was a leap year Every four years there is an extra day added in the calendar, an extra day, an extra opportunity, an extra chance How can we we claim to be so human if we question even the science of God's creation God reminds us that in leap years, second, third, and infinite chances to exist, and full moons are a reminder that we can change our karma's, and that we are meant to be misunderstood and that is all okay, Last night, during the full moon I surrendered all of the heavy baggage that I was carrying for the last 10 years, I saw a flash back of my life in the blink of an eye as tears rolled down my face, For the first time I knew what faith felt like, It was a sign that God still exists in the places we least expect and that second, third, and thousand and endless chances are what keeps us from the dark." I sometimes wish that we were so advanced, that we could just take trips to the moon and stay there for a while,
Wouldn't it be so ironic if we were able to break the laws of physics, or maybe change the theory, that one day love would be 'uplifting' and not 'falling'? On some days I wake up really lazy, but on some other days I wake up with this desire to leave and start over, I woke up this morning with a desire to be another person, I wanted to uname myself, erase my past and all those experiences and start with a clean sleigh Nonetheless, I was aware that I couldn't do any of that, I couldn't keep waiting for an alternative solution to come, so I could 'not be here' at times that were convenient to me, Couldn't undo anything but, I knew that I was able to change myself and my behaviors, But I had to unlearn everything that was undesirable, Where do you start? When you are a woman with lots of words for everything, and you can't seem to bottle up feelings inside, you are nothing but undesirable in the eyes of any men, If I were to unlearn myself everything I ever knew, what would my name be? Would the woman I become taste better in your mouth? Would you want to go for a second round or maybe third? If I were to undo my sins and reversed my experiences, I wouldn't have anything left to write about, I would be a simple a woman with a clear conscious, But maybe a little bit more lovable, I woke up yesterday thinking about what it meant to not be here, After 10 minutes I felt a serene feeling inside of me, I remembered that if love meant falling hard, and breaking bones, than you don't deserve me at all Write poetry.
Beautiful girl, draw pictures in people's minds, make canvases out of unawake souls. write, write, write, until you can't no more I want to write poetry for a living, wake up on Sunday mornings to the smell of lavender outside my window. get inspired by sounds of the cars passing by singing a gospel, but not in this time I am reminded that poetry cuts you open, it exposes the sides of you not visible to the human eye, but what is visible? what can you see about me that would ever make you think I want her I want her whole I want her honest Nobody likes an honest soul Nobody wants to ruin the ambiance with honesty so write, write about those who are here, those who once were and those who are yet to come. make your mind a museum, an orchestra, an exposition, for the world to see, stranded with no clothes, no shelter, no moral compass, no home write. just write and never stop. write until ink on paper bleeds red Society 'teaches us' to be women,
What makes a woman? As young girls we grow up playing doll house, mommy and daddy, and we can't forget how mothers forces us to aspire to marriage, children and having it all together before the age of 25 Be the perfect mother, Be the ageless sister, Be the forgiving wife, Be the young professional and still manage to have enough free time to do your hair, make sure your nails are always done and smile, that smile... 'baby girl, don't you ever forget to smile!' I can still reminisce the voice of my grandmother telling me that every time I felt a little nostalgic But this poem is not about aspiration, its not about dreams or goals, its about the present, its about the truth that lies within bedroom doors of young girls, What does make a woman? I once heard girls talking about what they portrait love to be, I remember the first butterfly feelings of falling on love, You wake up thinking that you have the world at your feet and everything will work out because you are in love... But when do we exactly teach these girls about values? Do you talk to your daughters about virtues and morals? Do you encourage her to make her own life choices and not create a concrete dream for her with stairs that are to high for her to reach? Did it ever occur to you that your daughter might be feeling so ashamed? That she can't meet the expectations of her parents because she no longer wishes to raise a family and be a house wife? She wants to break hearts and travel the world, she wants to experience intimacy without being touched... What really does make a woman? Is it her curves and her full lips? Is it her flawless skin and glowing face? What does make a woman? I once heard two girls talking about what they considered true love to be, and the girl asked the other girl, but how do you know if he really loves you? after a long pause the other girl said with a heavy voice..."after he is done having sex with me, he'd still want to hear about my hopes and dreams. I guess that's what makes a woman, doesn't it?" And that question had me thinking ever since... Daughters are mysterious,
they are full of love to give, full of beauty, If you ever give have a child, I pray for it to be a daughter, Give your daughter empowered names, Empower her to be the best she can be, Teach her about heart break, Tell her about your high school heartbreaks, Late nights, watery eyes, swollen face, Tell her all about it, Tell her about the lies you were ever told, Tell her about false promisses and the debts you owe, Teach her independence, teach her pride, Let her know that she does not need a man to survive, That love can sometimes be cruel and hurting, But tell her too, that love is magic, Show her difference between love and lust, Tell her don't mirror my past, Daughters are called gifts for a reason, they are a reminder to all the fathers who once ever broke a womans heart, A reminder to show them what the face of heartbreak looks like Written by Keyla Reeder Writers are forgetful, and detailed
They always have the right thing to say, sometimes at the worst times I used to think it was a gift, to feel every thing so deeply I have made my mind a museum for the world to admire from up close, and now..it's just a circus, for amusement I wanted to make it stop, stop feeling, stop writing, stop being so full But I couldn't, I couldn't make those words and voices inside my head stop It was like an addiction that fed off my sobriety and ate it whole Was I going insane? Was I the same person that I feared to become? I couldn't change myself as much as tried, and as the years went on and on I found myself lost in the colors and beautiful sight of it all, What a beautiful and tragic gift, to be so full of life and so empty at the same time |
AuthorA collection of a few published poems and spoken words by Keyla. Feel free to go through any of them, feed back is always welcome. Archives
April 2018
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