Comments Posted By kit
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 117 Comments
her heart does not know brightness
she lives with the dark
she invested on people
way way back
until she learned that they are all infested
» Posted By Kit On 07.03.2019 @ 10:19 pm
The stylized logo at the top of the page was one Victor would probably recognize, because it seemed he knew all of he print shops in the city. Émile could barely read it, though.
» Posted By Kit On 10.17.2017 @ 11:18 am
Resolve sounds like what it means. I know that “resolve” has two meanings, but I tend to think of the “she resolved to do X” type as opposed to resolving a conflict. Conflict is another one of those words that looks and sounds like what it means.
» Posted By Kit On 01.02.2017 @ 11:14 am
A chaotic day is stressful event. Panic, rage, confusion, mobs. Not knowing where the beginning or ending of fight is.
» Posted By kit On 05.18.2016 @ 1:00 pm
chaos is trouble. chaos is ever-day problems escalating into horribleness. catastrophe. manic fits and rage. confusion paired with anger and frantic.
» Posted By kit On 05.18.2016 @ 12:59 pm
The quickest we ever found an offering was ten minutes after selecting the previous one. Usually we butted right up against the time limit, and had to select at random, but this one was a volunteer. Some people are so attached to family that they don’t want to live without them. Weakness if you ask me.
» Posted By Kit On 01.22.2015 @ 10:04 am
I’m so thirsty. I don’t want gentle tea. I don’t want calming water. I don’t want bitter coffee. I want something pungent. I want something that will shake me down to my smallest toe bones. I want something that’s going to change my life. I want something that’s going to save me. I want something that flows sweet slow but steady as a heartbeat. Even as a drum beat.
» Posted By Kit On 10.25.2014 @ 5:34 am
Sorry is an empty gesture. Maybe instead you should try sending 31 postcards, crocheting something, giving away all your clothes, getting your eyes checked, legally changing your name… write a novel titled my name. Maybe those things would appease me. Maybe not. It would be funny to watch you try. I’d prefer that to the kneeling and sobbing.
» Posted By Kit On 10.11.2014 @ 9:45 am
Which one of you will be the accomplice?
Will you be equals?
Will you stay comedy/tragedy
or more Mungojerry/Rumpleteaser?
I know one will always be the look out.
Daddy’s my look out.
» Posted By Kit On 10.08.2014 @ 9:53 am
“If this turns out to have been a crime… I was only the accomplice” he said, sliding out of her.
“A crime? Making a baby with me would be a crime?” She was bemused. She lit her cigarette.
“Only if it’s two again.” He swiped it from her.
“Give me that back. It might be one of my last.”
» Posted By Kit On 10.07.2014 @ 3:25 pm
If my stomach flattened I wouldn’t be mommy. What would the babies poke and prod at, suck and grab? She looks up at me and smiles when she gets a mouth full of mommy, doesn’t care that I point out she won’t get anything from there. It’s part of ME. She’s part of me. Her own being and not something I own, by any means, but I created her with my own two hands. Without putting any thought into it… but putting so much heart.
» Posted By Kit On 10.04.2014 @ 3:55 pm
I will never hear your footsteps. I will never hear your heartbeat, I will never know what colour your eyes were. I will never know if you were going to be a sister or a brother. I will never know if you would have looked like the twins, if you were more twins, if you would have gotten along with us, how we would have fit you into our lives. I will never know if it would have been as hard as I imagined. When someone else takes your place as my third child, I will silently think they are my fourth. I will never get you back. I will never let you go. You never lived anywhere but inside of me and that is somewhat magical. But I will never hear your footsteps and that will never stop hurting.
<3 For my forever unborn.
» Posted By Kit On 10.02.2014 @ 4:37 pm
My interested broadened as I grew up. From liking boys to liking boys, girls, men, women; from eating only peanut butter sandwiches and milkshakes to every colour and size of vegetable and fruit; from seeing babies as occasionally amusing playmates to things to hold and protect.
» Posted By Kit On 09.27.2014 @ 9:15 am
I never imagined I would have three kids by twenty four. I never imagined that could be OKAY. I would have judged the hell out of anyone in my shoes. I would have said “Don’t they know how that happens?” or “Don’t they know what a condom is?!” I guess this is karma. I shouldn’t have been such a judgmental queen and I wouldn’t be dealing with two babies and a blastocyst now.
» Posted By Kit On 09.24.2014 @ 9:37 am
I don’t care who you marry, just don’t marry a chimney sweep. That’s what my father had always said. He didn’t care what I was as long as I wasn’t a “dirty” girl. So I couldn’t be a whore and I couldn’t marry a chimney sweep. When I came home with a baker at nineteen he nodded his grudging approval. “I should have said no bakers, too,” he grumbled, brushing invisible flour off his carpet after he had left. “This is just as dirty.” But my father stuck to his word and didn’t tell me not to marry the baker, even though he was a terrible baker who didn’t like to get up early and couldn’t make a souffle.
» Posted By Kit On 09.15.2014 @ 3:39 pm
The worldly lion
is also a wordy lion
a wordy and worldly lion is he
He sits on his throne
drinking atlases from stone
and sipping on peppermint poetry.
If you ask him the time
he’ll say with a grin
that it’s half past or quarter to art
He’ll stay up till ten
Guzzling compasses and pens
And journaling straight from the heart.
» Posted By Kit On 09.14.2014 @ 3:38 pm
She was furious. How dare the dog bite her? How dare the dog act like she was a piece of meat? He was just like her husband. Well, she would do with him what she couldn’t with her husband. That dog was going to lose his nuts. Mark her words, by the end of the week, that dog would be ball-less.
» Posted By Kit On 09.13.2014 @ 1:27 pm
large elephant assed strudel tart
» Posted By Kit On 09.13.2014 @ 7:32 am
I wold be least happy right now if I was in my childhood bedroom. I can’t help feeling a little like I am right now. At my purple desk on a laptop. Where I spent so many of my teenage years. Falling for other stupid teenagers, writing things that were “going to make me famous”, writing poems that I cringe to look at now, and pouring my heart out every night. I don’t pour my heart out nowadays. I guess because I birthed my heart in two pieces and now it scoots around on the floor. Half of it is trying to walk.
» Posted By Kit On 09.12.2014 @ 3:22 pm
Hey mr tambourine man
I’ve got nothing to say
La de da de da de da
There’s a giant giraffe in front of me
and two babies on the floor
and my husband is making pizza
and my uterus hurts.
Maybe I’m carrying our third child.
I’ll be carrying that while I carry our first or second.
My life has become very heavy.
I think that’s the best way to describe it.
The babies have a cousin named Leight.
There’s a lot of weird names in our family,
so say the Jehovah Witnesses when they visit.
» Posted By Kit On 09.11.2014 @ 12:53 pm
When I was a little kid and cars would tailgate my parents I would turn around and mouth at them to back off or just make the motion with my hand. My parents encouraged this. I don’t think I’d encourage my kids to do this. I used to be such a little asshole. And my parents encouraged it. And they wonder why I’m an asshole now!
» Posted By Kit On 09.09.2014 @ 5:15 pm
It was so fucking humid. The worst part was her lover of the day was completely wrapped around her. Snoring. She’d never been so uncomfortable in her life. And yet, she let him. He was young. Younger than her usual. Maybe 21, but probably not. His long dark hair was stuck to his cheeks. His eyelashes were splayed out like spider’s legs. He reminded her of her son. That probably should have put her off but it didn’t.
» Posted By Kit On 09.08.2014 @ 3:59 pm
Dragons have spikes. Dinosaurs have spikes. Fences can have spikes. Heart rates can spike. Bras sometimes have spikes. Some insects have spikes. Bikers have spikes. But girls always have spikes.
» Posted By Kit On 09.06.2014 @ 10:25 am
Fireflies. There were fireflies in her belly. Why else would she glow like that? Surely it wasn’t just him that saw that? He didn’t understand why others weren’t drawn to her. Why wouldn’t other people want to touch her ripeness like he did? He supposed women didn’t really like to be referred to as ripe unless they were pregnant. But if she was pregnant, it wouldn’t be with a son, but a SUN. She was the definition of glowing.
» Posted By Kit On 09.05.2014 @ 3:24 pm
The bubbles brushed past her. She was a mermaid. She was a narwhal. She was the entire ocean. Those looking down at her, watching her to make sure she didn’t drown, just saw a baby in a bathtub. Little did they know she could never drown. Not her. Not Kestrel Jayne, queen of the sea. Not the baby covered in barnacles and seaweed growing in as hair.
» Posted By Kit On 09.04.2014 @ 9:51 am
She brushed back her hair as she once again leaned down to vomit. No boy or friend holding hair back for her. She didn’t do that shit. If she was wasted, she took care of herself. If you let someone take care of you you’re giving them an opportunity to take advantage of you. Especially in a state like this. Which she often was lately. Which there was nothing wrong with, bud, don’t get any ideas, she thought.
» Posted By Kit On 09.04.2014 @ 9:38 am
Charity is a stripper name. I hate when people say little girls are named after strippers, though. Maybe she will be a stripper. What’s so wrong with that? Maybe she’ll be happy. Maybe she’ll be famous. Maybe she’ll kill herself at twenty three. Maybe she won’t because she’s pregnant and always wanted a daughter. Maybe she’ll be my daughter.
» Posted By Kit On 08.31.2014 @ 8:33 am
Everything we own is worn. Most things between us have been worn by at least one person before us. For him, small males, for her, even smaller. We wear each others. Past girlfriends and boyfriends and in betweens have worn them as well. Some were found on the street. Some given as gifts. Most bought with pennies scraped together. Even though we own much less than most people, we still don’t wear everything and pass them on to other people. The fabric of the world.
» Posted By Kit On 08.25.2014 @ 9:58 am
tries too hard
is hard to find
cannot be mine.
» Posted By Kit On 08.19.2014 @ 6:50 am
Back To Stats Page
i spent all my time on you so now that you’re gone i’m still here and i’m still empty
» Posted By kit On 11.10.2012 @ 2:34 pm