Friday, March 25, 2011

You are my radio star.

In high school, I was many things. I was a drama kid, an emo kid, a goof ball, a flirt, and a hypocrite. of all the things I did at Kentwood, there were few people that would nod at my stupid rants, roll their eyes at my latest obsession, and be there for me no matter what the cost.
There are few people in this world that will let me appear at their house, without warning, wearing ridiculous clothing and be perfectly fine with me stealing their food. I also, have few friends that wont roll their eyes when I say I am so excited for wrestle mania I might pee my pants
There is one man that stood their when I was falling fast, and caught me. One man that got in my face and made me change things for the better. One person that I can easily call the one.
The one true King, that is.
TOTK and I started out (unaware to him) as enemies. I couldn't stand his jokes, loud voice, and crude comments, until one day, cards brought us together.
There aren't too many people that will let you walk over them, and take your apology later. TOTK will re-read your letters and put them back in their box, until the next time he needs to read them.
He never forgets the times he needed you most, he'll hang his head and listen when he has done something wrong, and he always keeps his door open to those who deserve it.
I am glad you are still here, Kelly King.
Welcome Home.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

You never know everything about anyone

but you never know everything about yourself either.
I write these posts in a daze, when the words I want to tell the world take over my motor controls and have at it. Every so often I go through my old blogs, dissecting my own work and weighing it word for word like a critic.
I have to be honest, It's pretty impressive that I just brought myself to tears reading one of my own posts.
if you never know yourself, how can one trust other people?
I do it too often
but I don't think I will ever stop.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

shaker shaker, I am the taker
the words that travel through the night
drifting, floating, coating the walls
of your insides with cotton and foam.
wake her, wake her
the tide is your taker
and the moon turns away
to not see the sad look on your face.
teaser, teaser
you can never please her
she takes and needs
kisses and eases
but she always brings you back for more.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

I want bad coffee and good eggs.
Sitting in this diner, listening to useless conversations about WiFi and TV shows. I yearn to have a companion sitting across from me, blabbering about oil changes or diplomas.
What matters in this world? Human interaction, name changes, and bank account numbers?
I want an ice cold cup of water. I want to deprive my body until my mind creates sweet words and savory sentences to fill this empty stomach and not feel lonely.
My eyes can't focus, and this coffee is definitely bad. They don't have real eggs here, so I order crepes.
There is a man with shiny shoes and a dates class ring across the restaurant. what makes that man happy? Picking up his suit from the dry cleaners, polishing his shoes, cutting a business deal? Or is there more to this suited man drinking tea?
In school they always said questions in essays don't flow well. Good thing this isn't an essay.
These crepes aren't bad, I pour another cup of coffee and tear at the cream.
Two girls my age are talking about pop culture, thinking they know everything about the world, while two older woman are talking about vacations to Santa Barbra and Germany. It's always a fight to be louder than the person across from you, isn't it?
My crepes are already cold, but I force myself to cut rectangles and spoon them in. School busses are passing by, I woke up late today.
I never want to be like any of the people in this diner, and these crepes suck.
Waiter? More coffee and my bill.