Bengal Reads

       Lightening strikes my nervous
       system.

       White, hot, molten lava builds and
       bursts into a million tiny shooting
       stars of my being.

       Spinning outside of my body into
       an alternate realm of time and space
       surrounded by warm and comforting
       darkness.

       Returning back from a place where I
       exist with no name.

       Blissfully and carelessly falling into
       a seamless abyss of sleep.

       ------ orgasm inspired poetry

Photo by Karley Groce

My name is Kayla

I don't ask your name
It feels like this is all a game

What would you like?

Plus a million other detailed questions
Sometimes I am filled with repressions

Polite nothings

Spoken to Serve
Slowly after I'm driven to splurge

Leisurely talk, alcohol, and company.
All because I feel that its been taken from me.

I am not a hurricane, tornado, or fire.

I am the morning mist upon a sleepy leaf;
evaporating into the sky, only to appear the next morning.

I am the rain that slowly and gently; yet quickly and roughly falls.

I am the bodies of water that can be so still; yet move eternally.

I am many things, but clear is not one of them.

xoxo,
Kayla Graham

Photo by Kayla Graham

Emotions run high
Feelings run deep

Suddenly I want to sleep
The pain away

The thoughts that stray
--------------------------------------
I try so hard to function normally

But it feels like there is a brick wall before me
Give me the patience to chisel away

At my anxiety ridden heart that demands to stay

xoxo,
Kayla Graham

Photo by Kayla Graham

When the air flows though the leaves like a gentle breeze

Underneath the Winter bleeds

Fall to Winter to Spring to Summer

At some point in time each season takes a slumber

Crisp. Cold. Refreshing. Hot.

Each of them are what each other are not.

xoxo,
Kayla Graham

“It was a very ordinary day, the day I realized that my becoming is my life and my home and that I don't have to do anything but trust the process, trust my story and enjoy the journey. It doesn't really matter who I've become by the finish line, the important things are the changes from this morning to when I fall asleep again, and how they happened, and who they happened with. An hour watching the stars, a coffee in the morning with someone beautiful, intelligent conversations at 5am while sharing the last cigarette. Taking trains to nowhere, walking hand in hand through foreign cities with someone you love. Oceans and poetry.