STRIPPED: CONCRETE KISS

This strange, dark time in the world has admittedly dug up some memories and emotions that I thought were buried for good. At a time when social distance is crucial, and new connections are scarce, I’ve admittedly been feeling an odd sense of grief lately for past flames that seemed to burn out too soon, now with truly no hope of ever being rekindled.

i keep spitting you up poem
*Excerpt from Amanda Lovelace’s the mermaid’s voice returns in this one.

It feels like a pathetic sense of “loss,” especially when there are so many more important things occurring throughout the world as I write this. But, I’m sharing these thoughts with you in case anyone else may be feeling this way. The goal, as always, is to make us all feel a little more connected, and a little less alone.

IMG_8478
* I do not own this image. Credit belongs to the rightful author/artist. 

To some (myself included), the world may have already felt like some sort of “ghost town,” even before the impact of an international pandemic. I’m now even more devastated by how much we take each other for granted, especially in the world of modern dating. How painfully ironic that we claim to search for adventures and people to make us feel alive, when we ultimately just become ghosts to one another- sometimes without even a shred of remorse. In my “quarantine,” I’ve been forced to actually focus on and accept my grief that I’ve been feeling in the pit of my soul for months; it’s made me realize just how afraid I’ve been of my own feelings, and the massive significance I’ve instinctively attached to them. With no work or social life to distract me, I now have no choice but to face my fears, and hope that I will heal and grow in the process.

IMG_8468
* I do not own this image. Credit belongs to the rightful author/artist. 
i dont write what i write to hurt you poem
*Excerpt from Amanda Lovelace’s the mermaid’s voice returns in this one.

The strong, responsible part of me just wants those feelings to rest in peace…

…but the vulnerable, emotional part of me secretly never wants the haunting to end- because after feeling dead inside for so long, even just a glimpse of someone who once made me feel alive is better than feeling nothing at all.

IMG_9756
* I do not own this image. Credit belongs to the rightful author/artist. 

Or so I thought…

she didnt kiss frogs poem
*Excerpt from Amanda Lovelace’s the mermaid’s voice returns in this one.
IMG_8605
* I do not own this image. Credit belongs to the rightful author/artist. 

 

 ~ Concrete Kiss ~

The moment our lips met,

I realized

that was one of the few times

in my entire life

that I truly felt

alive.

Undeniably,

absolutely,

incandescently 

ALIVE.

 

And I think he could feel it too…

the massive significance 

building upon something

he once thought was so

simple.

 

For me,

that exhaled moment

between us

made me feel calm;

weightless,

like a pure breath of fresh

air.

 

But–

how heavy it must have felt

for him,

the concrete burden

of raising a strange,

sweet girl from the

dead.

 

As he breathed

life into me,

I suffocated

 life out of him. 

Unknowingly.

Unintentionally.

Undeniably.

 

And now all I can do

is ask myself

the only question

I already know

the answer to:

 

Who

was the REAL

monster?

 

bury me 6 ft deep

concrete-edit

 

Xx,

K

*Inspirational Songs of Choice:

“Monster”- Lady Gaga

“Concrete”- Poppy

“Graveyard” (Acoustic)- Halsey

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