Poetry by Kristina Kieff

BROKEN

I'm Broken.

Can't you tell?

Maybe you can't.

Not behind all the expensive Bobbi Brown Make-up,

128 dollar Hair cut, dye job, and a few highlights

every six weeks, Tahari Suits, Ralph Lauren Jeans.

Daddy never understood.

Once you break,

Your never the same.

The pieces just don't fit like they use to.

But daughter, you'll be fine,

Just get a good job, nice car, beautiful apartment,

That Ph.D. is all you need to find happiness.

And if you smile sweetly, cross your legs, use the right fork to

eat that ten dollar salad.

Your prince on a white stallion will come and save you.

And all the pain of all the previous lovers who helped to break

you will be washed away.

I'm broken

Can't you tell?

Well maybe I do trust you,

Just a little.

But maybe you should keep those hands to yourself

Until I know for sure

Your not like all the others

Abandon me, lie to me, not good enough, pretty enough,

Thin enough, swear at me, your psycho.

Your just NOT PERFECT ENOUGH.

I'm sorry, I'm Broken.

Please don't be ashamed

Please understand

I've traveled alone broken

I'll keep traveling this way alone

But maybe, if you so choose to hold my hand along this journey

Remember the road I walk is rough,

My spirit shattered.

I'm Broken

Can you tell?
 

RAVAGE


One single bright flourescent bulb glowing into blackness. I can't see your face, I can only hear the sound of your rustling clothes and savior the aroma of your scent as it rushes me from behind. I land on hard, cool cement. My arms pinned behind my head. Fuck me you bastard. Fuck me hard. So hard I bleed. I want to hear your sneer as your lips curl into that cruel sadistic smile you love to show me. Spit in my face. I am your whore. Bruise my lips, bite my neck. Use me, I am your pursuer. It is not your fault. It can only be mine. This is not meant to last. This is for right now. So do it. Fuck me. Don't say you need me because it is a lie. All lies, lies, lies. It's either your kiss, or your fist in my side. I want to feel ectasy for one moment. I want to feel closer to God. You are the only one who can make this fantasy real. Rip it. Grasp it. Suck it. Come on, Fuck me. I'll let you win this wicked game. Just give me something in return for the pain. One single bright flourescent bulb glowing into blackness. Your eyes are daggers looking straight into mine. I am tranced. I can not look away. I see your soul. Can you see mine? Don't stop. What are you afraid of? Love, hate, what? Just Fuck me. No commitment. No goodbyes. No I'm sorry. Kick me. Beat me. Touch me. Hiss into my ear. Call me your slut. Tell me I'm ugly. Say you hate me. Fuck me. Come on me. But never tell me the truth. What do you want? What do you need? For just this moment let me in. Tommorow you'll be hers, but tonite be mine. I want to feel your hand roughly between my thighs on my breast. I want to feel you in me. Wet, warm, powerful. Turn me over, turn me around. I want to be close to you, in you. Fuck me. Laugh at me bitterly. Use me. Your flesh is burning me. The sweat soaks into the dust. I am on fire. Please, Don't stop. I'm almost their. One single bright flourescent bulb glowing into blackness.

I stand. You have gone. I am lost. Forever, without you.

I love you.



Valley Of The Sun

They come from near and far

Searching, stumbling, drooling

Midas and his touch of gold

The hazy sun filtering down upon the valley

The eighteen hour days

The chips, wires and plastic

Molded and twisted together

The soft hum whispering from a square concealed box

It lulls you to sleep

Echoing in your mind

It hums to the beating of your heart

It is what created your ability to buy that flashy car

All leather interior, CD player, twelve horse power

The sun reflects the beauty of the plastic machines

The lush, manicured lawns the symbol of fraudulent happiness

It comes with a price

Fraudulent happiness does not grow on trees alone

It burns like molten lava

It stings like sunburn on your worn and tortured back

Blistering and withering in the desert you cannot see

Among the promised oasis

How many throats did you slit in order to attain that euphoria of "happiness"

The Valley of the Sun

A place of dreams

Quietly bubble-wrapped and sealed priority, careful

Picture perfect

Ripe for the picking

Stock, investment, 401K,

Skinny Cappuchino, Double-Lowfat-Latte

Mixed greens with balsamic vinagrette

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