A young poet, trying to figure myself out
The tide It ebbs and flows My mind It comes and goes The waves take me like lovers Their rough caresses leave me bruised
By Kaya Terlaak5 years ago in Poets
The Price is clear and cheap And yet I hesitate to pay. The product is one I’ve needed for a long time, But I can’t help to think Is it worth it?
What about the real me? The smart, vicious, mouthy girl no one wants to see? The girl who won’t sleep with you more than three times gotta rewind go back to a peaceful time, peace of mind.
By Kaya Terlaak6 years ago in Poets
I lay in the bed of a man I barely know And although he was just inside me, Now he cannot be bothered to touch me, distancing himself on the bed, keeping his arms at his sides.
Every “charity case” I’ve ever met has been a fighter. And you? You’ve never had to fight for anything in your life. You’ve never fought for justice, one safe night, or the right to even exist.
I’m a member of the Heartbreak Club baby, The club of those rebel vandal girls, who smoked menthols outside of class in the rain and snuck burning vodka in their water bottles.
“I feel like I don’t belong on this planet,” I said, as we sat in your white Buick, parked outside a nice suburban neighborhood at 10 o’clock
I was gigantic, My gentle mass dividing those around me as I drifted, softly, slowly through the expanse. My wide eyes, never intending to harm, my haunting voice, never raised in anger.