Inhalt
A Great Woman
A Great Woman
2/21/14
A Tribute to my Oma, Carol Jean Eknes.
Oma. My dear Oma.
I just got the devastating news.
I’m so sorry, sweet Oma, that I
Didn’t get the chance to spend more time with you.
I’m sorry that I didn’t get to
See you more often, tell you how much you mean to me.
Truth be told, I love you Oma.
I always have. I may have been shy at our first few meetings.
But, as time progressed, I felt that connection with you
Snap into place and bind itself tightly.
You and Opa were the only ones in your family who truly accepted
My mom, my brother and I.
Truly accepted us into your family.
Even after the divorce between your son and my mom,
You still considered us part of the family,
And still continued to care about us and love us.
You were always there, and now, you’re not.
You were diagnosed with brain cancer a few months ago.
They treated you, performed the surgery to remove the tumor.
They thought they’d gotten it in time and freed you
Of the cancer’s deadly grasp.
Guess not…
Mom came in to my room today,
Told me the terrible news.
You have 2 weeks to 2 months left to live.
And, though she has your room number,
Mom doesn’t want to go to the hospital to see you,
For fear of you not even remembering us at all.
Oma! I love you! I’m so sorry!
I’m so sorry…. I love you… </3
The Darkness Lies Within
The Darkness Lies Within
By Kayla Stiles
2/24/14
Trees thrashing amongst one another,
Crashing into each other,
Bashing their fellow kin with thorned fingers.
The sky overcast and blackened
By the angry clouds rushing in,
Crowding together to conceal
That brilliant blue ceiling above,
That which was just there moments before.
Hiding the golden yellows, ruby reds,
Tabby oranges, and royal purples
Entailing the comings and goings of the sun.
The sun! Where is the sun?!
That burning ball of white flame
Lies in hiding, just below
The crest of the green mountain tops.
The wind, oh how it howls!
Oh! How it moans and groans
As the trees tear one another apart.
Suddenly, the clouds part,
The golden rays of heavenly light peak through.
The wind slows to a soft breeze.
But then the clouds darken.
That wonderful ray of light disappears,
Once again suffocated by the clouds.
Then, those great puffy clouds finally burst,
And begin to sob.
The rain slams into the earth.
The breeze turns the land
Into a giant wind tunnel.
Trees uproot themselves,
The wind screams with rage,
And all the while the sky continues to cry.
And so it goes on.
The wind screaming, the trees thrashing,
The sky sobbing in great torrents.
When the fight concludes,
The sky clears, the wind stops,
And the torn and tattered trees stop their quarrelling.
All is at peace, it seems.
But not for long.
No, not for long.
Feelings (First Version- Will edit later)
Feelings
3/20/14
6:00 AM
You wanted me to see a psychologist for my problems.
Well what about YOUR problems?!
Your severe trust issues, your insecurity, and your doubt in everyone!
And don’t say it’s because of Dad.
He’s already told me you’ve had these issues
Since before you two started getting close.
You deny that you ever called me worthless.
We both know that that’s a lie.
You called me worthless that day at Aunt Marie’s,
The last day of my Junior year of high school.
You constantly berate me, tear me down bit by bit.
You say that I should have more self-confidence.
Well, how can I when you’re always telling me
That I don’t do anything, that I’m just a lazy bitch?
How can I have self-confidence when you always tell me
That I’m basically useless, worthless, a pig, a slob, etc??
You don’t really always say those exact words,
But I swear you’re thinking them.
You say that I need help, that I’m messed up.
That I’m afraid of everything.
You make fun of my deathly terror of driving
And make it seem like I’m just a joke.
That’s all you see me as: a joke.
My problems don’t matter to you.
My insecurities don’t matter to you.
All you ever seem to think about those things is: “Grow the fuck up”.
The only problems and insecurities that matter to you
Are yours and William’s.
You take everything- your rage, depression, etc.- out on me. Why?!
Just because I’m the oldest?!
I don’t care how many times people say that life isn’t fair.
How you treat me isn’t fair.
You don’t see it.
How could you? You’re the one doing it.
But Sheri always noticed it as well.
And I’ve lived with it for years.
You ALWAYS favored William over me.
Ever since the divorce between you and dad.
He’s always been the favorite child,
The precious little angel who’s going to do great things.
And what am I exactly?
I might as well be a slimy, oozing, pus-filled chasm of a monster.
That’s how I feel.
I feel like I’m about 2 inches tall compared to William in your eyes.
You may say that you brag about me to your coworkers and such.
But what you say to others, and how you treat me at home,
Are two totally different things.
William is your precious God child.
I’m just The Other Child.
I’m just that one girl that sits in the back of the room,
Hidden behind your son’s glory.
You always wanted me to talk about how I feel,
Even though you always get upset when I do.
Well here it is, all laid out for you.
I feel worthless, hideous, disparaged, useless, pathetic, unworthy, and justifiably hurt.
No matter what I do, no matter how hard or how little I try,
It’s NEVER good enough for you.
EVER!!!!!!
It’s always William this and William that.
He’s your little angel sent from Heaven.
And I’m just the demon spawn that you wish to cast out.
I’m that unwanted piece of filth that you wish to toss in the trash.
You wanted how I feel, and this is it!
I don’t feel loved anymore!!!!!!!!
I mean, I do at times, but there are so many other times
Where all I get is this cold, piercing look from you
That tells me that I’m not good enough for you.
And I think I finally realize why, too!
It’s because I’m a Daddy’s Girl.
Always have been.
It’s because I’m a lot like Dad and you hate it so much.
You thought that talking shit about him
All these years would get me to hate him, too.
It worked for a bit, I’ll give you that.
But then I GREW UP,
And I realized that harboring hatred and anger
For 15 YEARS is unhealthy and
Will only kill me faster and
Cause me unwanted and unneeded pain.
I don’t hate him anymore,
Because I actually grew up and stopped making it about me.
You hurt him a lot too, you know.
It wasn’t just you who was hurting.
Another thing: he didn’t cheat on you.
Didn’t steal William and I away on multiple occasions
In the middle of the night, like you said he did.
He did that ONCE, and you never even
Came to see us that week that we were at the motel.
You had every chance to see us.
And you didn’t.
You refused to talk anything out with Dad.
You were always so angry after the divorce,
And it wasn’t just because of Dad.
It takes 2 to Tango.
It’s not just a solo job, like you made it seem.
Also, you say it’s none of my business
For a lot of things, such as what happened in yours and Dad’s marriage.
I’m sorry, but you are my PARENTS,
And I believe that I’m entitled to know
The WHOLE truth and nothing but the truth.
You want to know something?
Dad only talks about your wrongs-doings
In conversational terms.
You, on the other hand, like to talk trash about him, use it as a weapon,
Make him seem like a villain.
He’s not. Nowhere near being a villain.
If he were, he wouldn’t want to spend time with William and I.
I know why you detest me.
I grew up to be a lot like my father.
15 years gone and counting,
And you STILL harbor deep hatred and anger
For the man I call “Dad” and whom I love
Despite all the smack you talk about him.
THAT’S why you detest me.
Because I remind you so much of the man you, for some reason, despise.
I’m not YOU! Nor do I want to be!
And that irks you the most.
I may look like you, but I sure as hell do NOT have your personality traits.
I love you, mom. I really do.
But you REALLY need to get your bearings and learn to forgive and forget.
Just give up on all this held-in rage and hatred.
Give it all up.
Because, until you can learn to do that and move on with your own life in a happier tone,
You’ll only run the risk of a relapse, causing another heart attack.
Also, you run the risk of losing Al, ruining the great things you have going for you.
Until you can MOVE ON,
You’ll only be causing yourself unwarranted anguish and anger,
And you’ll only cause a relapse.
You say William and I are stressing you out and
Will cause you to have another heart attack.
Bullshit! The only reason you’ll relapse
Is because you don’t know how to STOP, LIVE HAPPILY, AND RELAX.
You don’t know how to drop the past, bury the damn hatchet,
And MOVE ON!
I know you’ve heard me say this final part before, but I’ll say it again
Because it’s how I feel.
Sorry that I’m not your perfect child.
Sorry that I didn’t turn out the way YOU wanted me to.
Sorry I’m not YOU!
Her Body So Close to Mine
Her Body so Close to Mine
4/23/14
By Kayla Stiles
There’s this girl. No. Not a girl. A young woman.
The most marvelous and wonderful young woman
I’ve ever had the blessing to lay eyes on.
She’s so beautiful.
With gorgeous green/hazel eyes
Brimming with love and compassion,
And soft, smooth, short dark hair.
Her voice is that of a soft-spoken angel.
My dear, sweet Angel of Darkness.
Her skin is so smooth, so soft to the touch.
I remember my first intimate night spent with her.
Her gentle hands trailing softly over my skin,
Tenderly, with the touch of a dear loved one.
Her fingers lovingly caressing my curves,
Sending delicious chills through my spine.
Her delicious lips pressed to mine,
Exploring my body so tenderly.
I remember feeling her baby-soft skin
Under my tingling fingertips.
My body rising to meet hers,
My yearning for her rising to a peak.
I remember the ever-so-sweet taste of her on my tongue,
Her love and mine combining together
To form an almost palpable veil of lust,
Floating freely in the air between us.
I love her, my dear sweet Angel.
I love you Lizzy.
I Miss You
I Miss You
10/8/13
8:56 pm
I don’t miss you,
But yet I miss YOU.
I miss the way things used to be,
When we were starting high school and were
The best of friends.
When we could tell each other anything,
And felt like we could be anything.
When we talked of always staying best friends.
When we talked of always being there for one another.
I miss YOU.
But not the you who you’ve become now.
No, not the you that you now are.
I miss the you that you once were,
Before you got stung by the wasp of change.
And you became someone completely different,
Someone completely despised by many.
I miss YOU. But not you now.
Not the you who decided you suddenly hated me,
Not the you who suddenly thought it’d be ok
To start using people for your own personal gain,
To start betraying your supposed friends
And talking shit behind their backs.
I miss YOU.
The you I used to have sleepovers with,
The you I used to do make up with
And dress up and have little photo shoots with.
The you who used to always be there for me in my times of need,
Whom I used to be there for as well.
I miss YOU.
The one whom I used to call my best friend, my sister even!
The one whom I used to be so damn close to,
It hurt to leave your side for too long.
The one who told me that she’d be my surrogate.
The one who shared her life with me.
I miss YOU.
You, who used to always have my back in a fight.
Who used to always be there, my shoulder to cry on,
With warm arms to enfold me in comforting hugs,
With kind words to appease my fears.
I miss YOU.
My first girlfriend, my first kiss with the same sex,
My first almost everything with a girl.
You who sat there when I was upset and held me
And told me everything would be ok.
You, whose house I ran to when I ran away from home that one night.
I miss YOU.
The one who I always imagined spending my days with,
Sitting side by side when we’re old ladies,
Talking about the old days when we were young and youthful.
The one I always thought would stay my friend for the rest of my days.
My buddy, my friend, my ex-girlfriend,… my sister.
I miss YOU.
But not the monster that you’ve now become.
No, never the monster that you’ve become.
I miss the you who used to be you.
The you I fell so hard for and attached so adherently to.
I miss you, but you don’t miss me.
So this is how it has to be.
Separated for all time,
No longer even able to call one another so much as acquaintances.
I miss you. I just wish you’d finally grow the fuck up,
And finally miss me again.
Isolation
Isolation
3/26/14
She sits in the forest,
Alone and isolated from the rest of the world.
The middle of Autumn.
The crisp, cool breeze rustles the trees’ leaves
Of vibrant reds, mellow yellows, and great greens.
She sits alone, thinking, just thinking.
Thinking about the past,
Contemplating the present,
Mesmerized by thoughts of the future.
The still-green tree stump
Rooted underneath her rump,
Her only stability.
The whispering trees and cold breeze,
Her only companions,
The only ones to hear her cries.
She feels alone, isolated from the whole world.
As though she’s all alone and no one else is there.
No one there for her in her time of need.
Sunken deep in the muds of utter depression,
Drowning in the pool of despair,
She’s no idea what to do next.
Who to believe, who to listen to.
She’s alone, and no one will hear her screams of anguish,
Her tortured cries and body-wracking sobs.
She’s all alone, lost in her world of isolation.
Will anyone save her?
Can anyone even attempt to?
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012
By: Kayla “Fate” Stiles
Written: January 27, 2014
On this, the day meant to celebrate mothers, a most terrible thing occurred.
I lost my sister, my Familiar, my friend… my daughter.
She’s so beautiful, with long, soft gray fur
Spattered and spotted with spots and patches of orange and white.
She’s a pastel calico. A most gorgeous cat.
With the softest declawed paws and the most melodious meow.
Two days before this day, I picked up my dear Gadget to pet her,
And then released her to let her jump from my arms.
Except this time she stumbled and almost smacked her face into the wall.
I laughed, thinking she was just being clumsy.
But then she stood right by Cali and didn’t hiss like she usually did,
Didn’t even realize the dog was right there,
Until she bumped right into Cali’s leg.
I realized, then, that she couldn’t see.
My baby girl was blind.
Her eyes were entirely dilated, the pupil practically filling up her whole eye.
We went to the vet’s office and I had to go through the pain of hearing the doctor
Confirm my deepest fears.
They said that she might have brain cancer because of how she kept walking in circles with her
Head tilted off to the side.
They examined her eyes:
Her retinas had detached from hypertension.
I had to hold her down while they took her blood pressure and found it to be too high.
My baby girl had high blood pressure.
I had to sit there, tears streaming down my face, while I held her down and she cried out in fear.
When we took her home, she didn’t even try to adapt to being blind.
She didn’t eat, didn’t drink, took to peeing on everything.
She basically began the process of committing suicide by starving and dehydrating herself.
The day that this poem officially takes place, May 13, 2012,
I got up in the morning before mom went to work,
And Gadget was no longer on the blanket I’d laid on the floor by my bed for her.
In fact, we found her curled up under my bed.
Probably because that’s where she wanted to pass on to the other world, where she could then be reborn.
When I awoke again later in the morning, she lay there on the blanket,
Her breathing labored and her body hardly moving.
My aunt Marie came over during the day to check on me, make sure I was still doing ok,
To check on Gadget’s condition.
While she was there, my dear sweet baby girl lay there,
Making a throaty sound deep in her esophagus,
As though she were trying to purr or meow for me, to reassure me that all would be okay.
After Aunt Marie left, I finally called my ex-stepdad, Dan.
It took me a couple minutes of hitching and sobbing before I could finally get the words out,
Asking him to come pick her up and take her to be put down.
When Dan arrived and I went to put my baby in the pet carrier,
She feebly tried to struggle with me, as though to say that she wanted to stay with me.
I asked Dan to take me with them, so I could be with her all the way through to the end.
He told me no, that it wasn’t something I needed to see.
When he finally returned after about 3 hours, I waited for mom to get home
So that we could bury my beautiful girl.
I remember asking mom to take Gadget out of the ugly trash bag that they’d put her in.
I’d asked because I didn’t like leaving her feeling trapped inside a plastic bag.
I wanted her to be free, just as her spirit had always been.
Mom kept her in the bag, and we buried her in the back yard.
It was one of the most painful feelings I’ve ever had, that day that I had to bury my girl.
She may not have been human.
But she was human to me.
She was my Familiar, My Witch’s Cat, my sister, my friend, my companion… and my daughter.
She had such a great personality and she was, is, such a wonderful and loving girl.
She always followed me wherever I went.
She slept with me at night, curled up next to me, purring happily.
She was always there when I was sad, or angry, as though she knew.
As though she wanted to make me feel better, to make me happy again.
She was the sweetest individual I’d ever met in all my days.
She was so loving, and sweet, and caring.
She was the perfect companion.
I’ll never forget my baby girl, my darling angel.
I loved my baby girl, and I still do to this very day.
I always will. She was the best companion I could have ever asked for.
I love my dear, sweet child.
My Gadget.
Mom
Mom
By Kayla Stiles
February 7, 2014
I remember good times with you, sure.
But I also remember bad times with you, so clearly.
Remember that day, the last day of my high school junior year?
We went to Aunt Marie’s house.
We had an argument in the car, over my belief that you saw me as worthless.
We got in a fist fight upon arriving at Aunt Marie’s.
I ran inside and the verbal argument continued.
You outright called me worthless, then.
Do you remember that? Do you remember the hurt look in my eyes?
That haunted look that’s always lurked just beneath the surface
Of these blue orbs that open to my soul, these eyes that are as much yours as they are mine.
I used to look up to you, being the only parent present in my life and all.
But now I just see someone who only sees me as something not worthy of anything.
Someone who looks at me with anger and rage, with hatred for me being my father’s daughter.
That’s it, isn’t it? I’m so much like my father, and you absolutely hate it.
You hate how much I act like him, how many thoughts in my head
Correspond with thoughts that he has. You despise me for being so much akin to him.
I’ve never wanted to leave as much as I do now.
To just pack up some clothes and essentials while you’re at work,
And just up and leave. Walk out that door and not return.
You’d see my stuff missing and you’d wonder.
Don’t worry, though. I’d tell you the truth, once you realized I was gone.
I’d tell you the whole truth, too.
That I couldn’t stay anymore. I couldn’t deal with the constant favoritism shown to William,
And the constant anger catapulted at my face.
I couldn’t handle the stress that you caused, the anguish deep inside.
I mean, come on! I’m so much better off than so many other people my age out there.
Hell! So much better off than even some of my cousins around my age!
I’m not 16 and pregnant with my first child.
I’m not 19 with two kids and no way to support them.
I don’t have kids that I don’t even take care of.
I actually finished high school ON TIME and am now in college to become a teacher!
I smoke cigarettes, yes. But at least I don’t do any other drugs!
I’m clean! I’m not a full-blown alcoholic, not a druggie.
And I’m most definitely NOT the monster you make me out to be!
I’m actually doing something with my life.
I give you money from my FAFSA so you can pay for things that we need.
I’m trying to get a job so I can help support you and William! I don’t have to do that!
But I’m doing it out of the kindness of my cold heart.
But I’m done being your scapegoat every time something goes wrong or something isn’t done.
I’m done being your personal punching bag. I want out! And I want it NOW!
I can’t stand being in a house where I’m obviously not welcome.
As Three Days Grace so perfectly put it: “This house is not a home.”
I feel so invisible to you, except for in times when you’re angry and need someone
To let all your anger and frustration out on.
When you need someone to blame for all that’s going wrong.
I’m done living with someone who doesn’t truly care about me.
You say you’re so proud of my accomplishments,
That you brag about me all the time to your friends and coworkers.
I call bull on that. Why? Because you don’t prove it to me at home!
You say you love me, yet you often spit in my face.
I’m tired of always being the one to blame for everything.
I cannot, and will not, be here forever.
As soon as I get that job at Quikmart and work there for a couple months,
Get a few hundred bucks saved up and have security in my job,
I’m leaving! I. Am. Not. You!
Nor do I want to be. But I will tell you this. As soon as is possible,
I. Am. Gone.
Nothing is For Certain
Nothing is For Certain
9/8/14
Dark. Cold. Empty. Void.
Heartless. Desolate. Hopeless. Dead.
That is what state he put her in.
He dropped her like a piece of rotted trash,
In a way that instilled in her thoughts
The feelings that he never cared,
That he no longer wanted her, or even loved her,
In any way, shape, or form.
In a way that, to her, proved that he never truly cared.
She loved him more than anything,
Wanted nothing more than to stay with him forever.
She took his long-ago, now-broken promise
Quite seriously; the promise that, one day,
He’d put a ring on her finger
And make her his forever.
She took all his “I love yous” and kisses and caresses
As a symbolism of his true love for her.
Too bad for her, though.
Considering he moved on to his idea girlfriend:
The only female she’d ever really loved, her ex-girlfriend.
A gamer girl, a go-getter,
Someone who wasn’t afraid to try new things.
He’d found his ideal mate,
And left her standing alone, drenched in
A mixture of the rain pouring down on her… and her own tears.
He left her to cry herself to sleep at night.
To feel so much emotional agony and turmoil inside
That the only release she could find to really work
Was to slash up her legs with a knife,
An old habit she thought she’d rid herself of.
With him out of the picture,
She’s lost almost all hope for salvation.
She’s lost the ability, the reason,
To ignore her urges to self-mutilate
And keep herself clean of creating any more scars.
He was her reason to not cut,
To not wish pain upon herself,
To not have the hard-impressed belief that she deserved to be hurt.
He was her strength, her stability, her power of will.
But now he’s gone, and there’s nothing she can do about it.
On that begrudged night-- April 30, 2014--
She felt more emotional agony in one split second
Than she’d ever felt before.
The moment she realized she’d lost him for good
Was the moment she came to no longer believe
In “Happily Ever After”.
Not Welcome
Not Welcome
8/23/13
You constantly scream and shout at me to do everything,
Yet you never yell at William.
You threaten to kick me out of the house,
A house where I have not felt at home in years.
A house where I feel like the outsider,
The outcast, an intruder.
I constantly feel like I’m the intruder in that house.
I don’t feel welcome. Don’t feel at home.
I feel like you no longer really care about me.
Like I no longer really belong in that house.
I feel like I’m an outsider looking in.
My family doesn’t feel like MY family anymore.
William is the only thing holding me back now from leaving.
I don’t want to leave him alone with your foul attitude.
I don’t want to leave him alone in that house,
Where he won’t have me there to help when he needs the help.
I’m tired of pretending like everything is ok.
I’m tired of putting on a fake smile every day
Just to appease your spirit and make it seem
Like there’s nothing truly wrong.
Make it seem like there isn’t a war going on inside my head.
I’m tired of hiding what I really feel.
Yet, every time I’ve tried talking to you about how I feel in that house,
You always get overly upset and instantly say that I should move out then.
I’m tired of the fights and the anger.
I just want to be happy in my life.
I want you to be happy that I’m happy and doing well.
I want to be able to do all the things you want me to do.
But I’m petrified of driving, no one will hire me, and I can’t be the perfect daughter
For you.
I can’t be that perfect prissy daughter who does everything perfectly.
It’s not who I am. And I refuse to pretend to be someone I’m not
Just to appease you.
I want you to be able to see me as I really am,
And love me for that.
But you just can’t, can you?
You can’t accept me for who I am because who I am isn’t who you want me to be.
I’m not perfect. I don’t get perfect grades.
I don’t have a job because no one will even give me a second glance.
I’m not a clean freak like you.
Sorry that I can’t be like you. Sorry that I’m not YOU.
I don’t WANT to be you though.
I am my own person and your life isn’t the life I want to live.
I’m sorry that I can’t fit into your standards of how and who I should be.
I guess I never will fit your standards.
I guess I’ll never really be acceptable in your eyes.
I’ll always be the outcast, the black sheep,… the intruder.
No matter how hard I try, I’ll never make you proud of me.
I wish I could. That’s all I want is to make you proud of your own daughter.
But, for some reason, I always seem to fall short.
William is perfect in your eyes and can’t seem to do any wrong.
At least, that’s how you perceive him as.
I’m always the wrongdoer, the liar, the brat.
I’m always the one who isn’t wanted, the one who isn’t asked about.
You always tell me, “Actions speak louder than words.”
Well, follow your own words.
Because, frankly, your actions half the time tell me that you hate me.
That you hate how I live my life and hate who I am as a person.
Everyone always wonders why I hate on myself and call myself mean names and stuff.
Well, I think I found the answer finally.
It’s because of you. Because of how you treat me.
I feel like such an outsider in my own home,
The place where I’m supposed to feel at peace,
That it’s affected me negatively.
It’s made me feel like I don’t belong anywhere
And that I don’t deserve to be happy with anyone.
Well, that is done and over with.
I have found out the reason why I am so disgusted with myself,
And that is going to stop.
You want me out of your hair? Fine.
As soon as I can find somewhere to go,
I’ll be gone. I’ll be done with your anger and disgust in me.
I just need to find somewhere else to move to,
And then I’ll let you be to your own life.
I’m tired of being your pin cushion,
Your toy voodoo doll that you pick and stab at
Every chance you get.
I’m tired of being the one you take all your anger out on.
It’s time for someone else to take up that role.
Take out your anger on Al, or yourself for all I care.
Just quit taking it all out on me.
I’ve been strong for 14 years now.
I don’t know how much longer I can be strong and “just deal with it.”
If dad does move back here to Tucson,
And I still have nowhere to go,
I will move in with him so I’m out of your hair finally.
I know that he’ll show me what a real home truly feels like.
What it feels like to be an actual family.
I miss my father, I love him.
And that’s another thing that I quarrel with you about.
It’s been 14 years. It’s been long enough to hold hatred in your heart.
IT’S TIME TO BURY THE HATCHET.
It’s time to learn to forgive him and actually learn to MOVE ON.
I’m tired of being made the sacrificial lamb all because
You still hold a lot of hatred and anger towards him.
It’s time to move on with your life and learn to forgive.
I love my father very much.
I’m glad he’s back in my life finally.
And this time, I will not let him leave my life prematurely.
I love you mom. But you need to relax,
And stop being so harsh on me for things I can’t always control.
Opening up the Mind
Opening up the Mind
4/22/14
By Kayla Stiles
I know many people are appalled by even the thought
Of two people of the same sex being together,
Much less those two having sexual intercourse together.
Sharing in that special moment with one another.
Holding one another close. Bosom to bosom,
Stomach to stomach, heart to heart.
Me myself being bisexual definitely opens up my thoughts,
Clears my head and opens my eyes to the world.
I remember that night,
That night that she slept in the same bed with me,
That night that she and I shared a most wonderful moment with each other.
I know, I know. How gross. Such an abomination.
Two women together, sharing in sexual experiences together.
You know what? I don’t care anymore.
I love her. She’s a most amazing young woman.
I remember her soft hands trailing over my body,
Her gentle lips kissing mine,
Kissing my body.
I remember gently tugging on her medium-length,
Dark-colored hair. Staring into her deep eyes.
She’s so beautiful. It saddens me that she doesn’t see it herself.
I just want to prove to her that she’s truly beautiful.
That she’s truly a most wonderful woman.
I love her.
And no one is going to stand between her and I,
Between the love that we share in.
I love you, my dear sweet Lizzy.
The Past
The Past
11/24/13
2:16 a.m.
The past. It often catches up to us when we least expect it.
The past. It often pops up when we don’t want it to.
It’s that dark shadow that crosses the room
At the edges of your peripherals.
It’s that tiny voice in the back of your mind,
Speaking in soft tones of times long gone.
The past is that small inkling of recognition you get
When you cross paths with someone you once
Held dear and close to your heart.
It’s that feeling you get in your heart,
That feeling of emptiness,
And deep longing for comfort and replacement.
But you can’t replace what’s already gone.
You can’t lose a friend and have someone else take their place.
You can’t lose a girl,
A girl you held so close to your heart that it hurt to let her go,
And just find someone else to fill the gaping hole she left behind.
You fall in love,
Not always only once in your lifetime,
And not always with someone of the opposite gender.
You fall in love,
And you lose your chance with that one that you love.
But you can’t get that chance back.
And you remain good friends with that person.
And yet, society frowns down upon you if,
God forbid,
You become jealous when you see her out with another girl.
When she replies to others’ messages and not your own.
When she posts that she’s so happy,
Thanks to someone that’s not you,
And it breaks your heart to see these things.
It breaks your heart to realize that you lost your chance.
That now it’s time for someone else to take your place.
Time for someone else to take the place you left behind,
Empty and isolated.
It hurts to see her laughing, smiling, holding hands
With another young woman.
But all you can really do is sit back and watch,
Tell her you’re happy for her and let it be.
Because, how dare you get upset over her being with someone else.
How dare you be upset over the fact that, of all the criteria she’s told you
About her girlfriend needing to be,
You fit the bill almost perfectly.
How dare you feel hurt and isolated
From your first true love,
From your very first good relationship.
I mean, it’s not like she loved you back or anything.
It’s not like she wanted you back as much as you wanted her.
It’s not like you two had so much in common
That you felt a heat wave of a connection tying you together.
It’s not like you were always there, always waiting,
Waiting for a chance to win her back,
To be the one she’s been waiting for to make her happy again.
Even if only for a temporary amount of time.
It’s not like you loved her…
And told her of your love time and time again.
No. It’s not like any of that happened.
Even though it did.
Who knows? Maybe one day,
Maybe one fateful day,
Your paths will cross again and twist and turn to combine a
United embrace of happiness and caring.
But I doubt it. I highly doubt it.
Because, once you lose that opportunity,
It’s rare to get a second chance at that which you wish to occur.
It’s rare… To get a second chance at your first love.
Someday
Someday
5/3/14
10:13 pm
I’ll be ok someday…
I’ll be able to move on… eventually…
I’ll finally be able to wake up in the morning
Without that sick feeling in my stomach,
Without looking beside me and realizing that you’re gone,
And feeling the tears cascading from my eyes.
One day, I’ll be able to see your picture
Without crying and feeling torn in two.
I’ll be able to hang out with you again,
Just us as friends,
Without feeling like I’ve lost everything.
I may one day finally be able to look at you,
And not feel anything at all.
No longer feel the hurt, the ache in my breast.
No longer feel the love that you shattered,
The deadened feeling in my heart.
Someday, I’ll be better.
But until that day….
Well… I’m a goner..
Until that day comes, I’m still shattered and destroyed inside.
I’m demolished and dead inside.
Constantly crying, and feeling, and remembering
Memories long gone, long dead in the past.
Was it a mistake to love you, to care about you,
To sell my heart and soul to you?
I don’t know anymore.
All I know is this:
I’m tired of wasting my tears on someone who
No longer wants me, no longer loves me.
I’m tired of hurting over someone who
Might as well just say screw you and walk out of my life for good.
I’m scarred, internally and externally.
And there’s nothing anyone can do to fix that.
But maybe, possibly, one day.
Maybe someday,
Things will be better… and I’ll be alive again…
Maybe someday… I’ll be whole again…
But for now, it is not so.
Did I say something stupid,
By telling you I loved you?
I don’t know. I just want you to know that I DO love you…
And I would have given up the world for you…
I guess this is goodbye…
The Spirits of the Trees
The Spirits of the Trees
By Kayla Stiles
Written: 2/20/14
What do I see when I look at the trees?
I see living beings,
Touched by the Goddess’ sweet breath of life,
Basking gloriously in the sun,
Soaking in the rain, the wind, the sunshine.
Their sunbaked faces slant up
And gaze lovingly at the solar star in the light blue sky,
Breathing in the sweet aroma
Of the flowers surrounding their bases,
The fresh, earthy scent of their friends surrounding them.
All of them peaceful and tranquil.
I hear their branches swaying in the soft breeze,
Lightly bumping into one another and
Scratching against each other.
Their presence is so calming.
So sweet and innocent is their essence.
A smile crosses my lips and I drink in the purity
Of my surroundings.
The feelings of my fellow friends are my high.
I get drunk off the tranquility of their presence.
They speak to me of times long gone,
Of times of peace and beauty.
And oh! With such beauty is the voice of a tree!
These voices, they don’t just speak to me.
They sing and, oh, with such wondrous melody.
It’s as though I’ve been called home
From a faraway place.
Just lying on the moss at the bases of my fellow friends,
Staring up into the clear blue sky.
Just enjoying the quiet surrounding me.
That peaceful quiet that is silence, yet not silence at all.
There are voices in the wind, in the air.
The breeze lightly brushes my cheek and
Sweeps the hair off my face.
It’s so peaceful here, so quiet and serene.
It’s as though the hate and anger and strife in the world
Is gone, and I’m left in my solitude,
In my quiet, beautiful haven.
In this, the spirits of the trees.
Stronger or Not
Stronger or Not
Written: 6/6/13
I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.
But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.
It's still there, ringing in my head loud and clear.
But my strength is returning to me. My time to be me again, is drawing near.
I will never be the same. Oh no. Not the same.
But I might be better, or I might be insane.
Only time can tell what will happen
To this girl so fond of napping,
Cuddled up in the arms of her love,
At that time, feeling so high and above.
I've been broken, yes.
I've been shattered inside my chest.
But if I can push through this, like a warrior,
I may no longer be the bad-news-carrier.
I might one day lift up my head,
And see the sunrise with love, not dread.
I will always love him, for he is my love.
But if I can't make it past this, I'll never again rise above.
Above all this pain, above all this heart break.
The things that watching the one you love leave tends to make.
I don't know if I'll ever love again,
For I am trapped inside my mind's den.
But if I can find the power to find love one day,
May the Goddess bless it in every single way.
I don't know how long it will take me to be able to trust,
But I don't want to live a life full of rust.
The rust of old relationships gone to hell,
The rust of a thousand promises broken without tell.
I don't want to live a life bathed in blood,
The blood of a broken heart, covered in bruises and crud.
I always wanted that perfect relationship with no fights, no anger.
But now I've come to see that there is no such thing as no anger.
All relationships start happy and then get bumpy,
But that's not a sign to end it all grumpy.
If you truly love someone with all your heart,
You fight for them to stay, no matter how tart.
You stay with them through it all,
Through the fights and through the fall.
If they leave, that's on them.
But if you leave for a selfish reason, that's on you, my friend.
If you leave behind someone who loves you with all their soul,
You might end up alone, with a dark and empty hole.
I'm just saying that I love with all I have,
But when it gets thrown in my face, it takes all I have
To not break down and nap for eternity.
I try to show you how to reach true love, even in frailty.
If you push me away because of a stupid reason,
I can't control that, today or in any other season.
But I'll leave you with this one thought:
If you had stayed, how much further would we have got?
I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.
But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.
Time
Time
3/20/14
12:16 am
How do you stop time?
Or at least slow it down to give you
More time with a cherished loved one?
You don’t. You CAN’T.
Time isn’t something you can control,
Like the rowdiness of a family companion (dog, cat, etc.)
Or the turning on and off of the lights in your house.
Time is a hidden force, an unseen enemy.
Lying in wait, lurking in the deepest, darkest shadows
Just beyond the sight of your peripherals.
Time is an invisible monster,
With great, giant, clawed hands
That reach out and snatch up those you hold
So dear and precious to your heart
When you least expect it.
My lord, when you least want it to happen!
Time is like that creature in your nightmares,
That one that makes you shake and quiver in the corner,
When you haven’t even seen it yet.
That creature that, as soon as you awaken,
Disappears from your mind’s eye and becomes
Just another thought-to-be-imagined demon,
That which you can never remember the face of.
Time is the darkness in the corner of your room,
Watching over you as you sleep soundly in your warm bed.
That darkness which creeps ever so slowly and menacingly
Towards you, yet dematerializes as soon as you open your eyes
To cast your gaze around your moonlit bedroom.
Time is that unforeseen enemy that creeps and crawls
Behind the scenes of your life,
Stealing away your innocence here,
Taking away a most revered relative there.
Time is that ungodly demon,
That which deals the deadliest blows
To your very heart and soul
When the time is most definitely NOT right.
When you are already at a most fragile and broken state.
When you are already so torn apart inside
That Time just makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.
Scream at the whole world, the whole UNIVERSE!
Scream until you can’t scream anymore,
Until your voice is cracked and hoarse, and your heart is deadened.
And then Time goes even further with its disgraceful game,
And makes you curl up into a tiny ball
And cry, and cry, and cry.
Cry until you’ve cried so long that your tears run dry,
And your cheeks are stained with the salty patches that those
Great torrents of water bursting from your eyes
Have left behind in their wake.
Time takes away those you hold most dear to you,
When you’re not ready to say good-bye yet.
When you’re not ready to watch as that
Great black mahogany casket
Is lowered into an earthy hole in the ground.
When you’re not ready to see an urn,
Merely a small metal casket,
Encase all that was once your aunt, your uncle,
Your mom, your dad, your cat, your sister,
Your brother…. Your grandmother.
When you’re not ready to face the reality
That this could be the end.
That you might never again rest your eyes on that
Wonderful face of that wonderful person.
That you might never again talk with them,
Laugh and crack jokes with them,
Or even just sit there and cry in their arms.
Time is the evil-doer that hides in the night,
That part of the day that most people find the most relaxing,
And waits on its prey.
Just waiting to pounce and wreak havoc
Amongst the lives of many.
Time is the one that stole my baby girl,
My sweet angelic Gadget, my Witches’ Cat,
My sister, from me before her years were used up.
Stole my baby girl on May 13, 2012.
Time…. Is the one stealing my Oma from me now…
Time… is evil….
Why Am I Crying?
Why am I Crying?
5/12/14
11:53 pm
Why am I crying? For some stupid reason again?
Or for a good reason for once?
Why do these tears threaten to slip from my glossy eyes,
And streak down my cheeks?
I feel pain inside… For reasons untold.
I feel pain outside… For feelings unseen.
I feel loss, and despair, and a darkening of my thoughts.
But what for? What brought this on today?
Is it the loneliness that I feel?
That which only is risen by the lack of contact.
Is it the sorrow that’s seemingly gripped my soul
With a cast-iron clench?
Or is it something else?
Something unforeseen and untold of?
I don’t know anymore.
I know I feel alone, but for why I cannot tell.
I know I feel empty, hollow,
But for why I cannot see.
Can anybody help me? Or is this mine to fight alone?
Impressum
Texte: Kayla Stiles
Bildmaterialien: Elinor Skinner
Lektorat: Elinor Skinner
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.05.2014
Alle Rechte vorbehalten
Widmung:
I dedicate this book to my Oma, who passed away from cancer of the brain on April 5, 2014. She would have loved to see some of the poems I've written in this book. I just wish she were still here to help me with my current situation.