I should have celebrated 2 years of sobriety from alcohol on 9.24.2020 — Personal moment of shared jargon. On Sept. 24, 2018 — I was blessed with the opportunity to get sober from my partner in destruction, alcohol. I proceeded to be sober for 1.5 years, then when the coronavirus took hold in early 2020,… Continue reading We Do Recover
A broad in the audience, floating as shell that gutted its hermit & sent it to sell. The last time I woke, in a turn of events. The mercy of my God was bigger than choral resentments. A bobbing appetite for squandered shoals, a standing testament of woman on time with notes. The house of… Continue reading A.I.
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FLOWERETTE Artlessness, it remains at the beginning of the road, with aspirations of hope, making me reach further, my small arm could extend; The concoctions engraved in my young mind were potions resulting in different fates. Everything began to brighten, my needs dwindled to that of a picturesque thread, and conversating got filed away as… Continue reading FLOWERETTE
On the notion of illusion, I don’t speak of fact, I speak of Truth in algorithms of math. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I face the Wind that howls with me and whisper my Blues to be printed as Free. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ To surf with the echoes in the meadow, you see, would be genuine visions of gumdrops on trees.… Continue reading PART EIGHT
Watch now, Watch Free, View me explode. Tune in, Turn out, And prepare to reload. Create space between your fingers and grasp for the group, Don’t mention the colors you obtain for proof. Lie there, Lie still, Countless suspects foot the bill. Running red, The negativity spreads, The house becomes drenched in one, tiny threat.… Continue reading October
I am Kendra, & this is so–— I bellow it deeply & repeat costumes from my drawer. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ My well of emotions is from the whole of my control— I find it odd to label what is not of one’s own— Then why do I claim the words as mine known— when in actuality it… Continue reading Ж
The motion of joy is the choreographer of my soul. Once open to arriving, I had no need to visualize a door. For, like the butter, I could not believe that I was the Homeowner and also, the Key. Oh! How foolish it would be! To be matter of fact! To be like a deck… Continue reading A Series of Self: Kendra, Pt. V
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