A Kawaii Memoir


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Posts tagged Art Inspired
The Invisible Climax

I think I’m in a lot pain yet having no gain

Reaching towards the invisible climax

Only to realize it’s the illusion of what my life is

This is the reality they call corporate biz

I hate it ya know, walking on tip toes

Thinking if I’m careful I’ll be in the know

Despite the fact I’m struggling

Fabulously failing,

Dedicated dying

On an invisible climax I call success

Her Inferno (2017)

Written 11/25/17

Gambled away this heart frequently

It was leaps of faith, with arms wide open that led me to travel alongside his inferno

These dreams of love, paid in silver, to the ferryman named societal ideals. The love boat carried me over rivers of sorrow and empty tomorrows.

First gamble, I had faith in false promises. The trust in a beautiful tongue, that had no taste for me. As flavorful as I am, in the end I'm merely an acquired taste.  

Within my second gamble, I lusted too hard, erasing my sexuality for voices long gone. 

By my third gamble, i was greedy, thinking my body enough to pass for concepts of grandeur. I basked in the mud of modern notions for lonely women.

Fourth gamble is pillow talk, the deep conversations after many primal demonstrations. Now what love I had is anxious and toxic. A confusion from affectionate delusions. 

Fifth is resentment of memories of you. The time we spent together was fucked up. With Wrath as a muse, erasing your essence is a pleasure better than solo orgasms.  

Sixth time around I'm marching and proclaiming my willingness to just be alone. Worship this literature while I preach singlehood from lonely lips.

Seventh gamble is the murder of my pride. I begged, I fought, I cried for this soap opera bullshit. I cried alone, I told no one about how I felt, because this was hell. No tears for this emotional gore that I suffer day in and out. 

I thought I deserved this hell. Cause there is no calamity quite like loneliness in a woman who feels no love for herself. 




Dear Dreamers (2017)

Written/Edited 03/21/17

Dreamers want ideas and inspiration, and a world of creativity and imagination.

Creators desire support from a bleak nation, however, it’s a political abomination. 

We ask for the steps to create dreamers, but the cost of war and violence prevails.

Why spend to send children to experience art when consumers desire holiday sales?

Speech is emoji's and new generations lose language graced with educational fluidity. 

Will the vivid fame and fortune of our culture show that our dreamers have validity?

Dreamers ignore societies gray temptations and avoid your creativities castration.

Fight for culture and passion so the duration of dreamers remains historical fixation.

Never succumb to words that make you lose motivation, and keep thoughts in motion.

In the end, what connects humans to one another, is the artist's steadfast devotion.

Potential (2016)

Written 12/01/16


Potential is the cruelest gift. 

What lies in the power of my hand

What lies in the power of my words

I could be a King or a misfit

With the talents of a garage band 

Or grandiose dreams of city birds

I could bring life or grant death

A possibility that I choose to ignore

When time provides more choices

Potential is in my breath.

It's the star of my show and bore

And the chorus of narrative voices

These moments of a cliché story

I can choose good or bad or nothing,

Why limit when there's a universe

Potential is life's glory

The meaning and reason of anything 

It's a vital reason choice is a curse 

Potential is power given to us all

So I wonder about why

I have the burden of potential