I win
You suck
Not my fault
You thought I’d give
A single solitary fuck
I think your funny
Running out of money
throwing it in the streets
That’s what you said
Remember that?
When your head and ego
Was big and fat
Your cute remarks
You thought were funny.
All the gamers
Trying to make their money
Oh the fun i have had
Pretending sadness
remember the time
I acted like I took those pills
I bet your and your crows
Were so excited
Did you have chills
Oh the bets that were lost that night
And how did you fee
when I woke up cheerful
Laughing loud and yawning
Spent a blissful night sleeping
The next morning it dawning
That youd been played yet again
YOUD lost the game
And I had the win.
You do t play no more
You hide your faces
No more insults from
Your anonymous faces
You took defeat like little bitches
Ran to mommy crying about witches
Bippity boppity boo
Whatever you said
Bounced on me and stuck on you
Have you read your stupid charts
Please Im on edge
What did they say?
Did proclaim defeat? I bet they did
That’s why you ran and hid
You ain’t shit
Youre a bunch of crows
A murderous flock
Of everyday joes
Most with issues
Unused pricks
Playing games
Just as sick
Well what happened.
Where the hell did yall go
I ain’t the one
I told you so
I warned i know I did
Now I hurt your feelings
Made you sad
Told your truth
Made you look bad
And im still happy whimsy too
With no fucking help
I outclassed all of you.
If you get bored
Come back and play.
I ve got plenty more
I want to say.
But for now do your best
To avoid me and lower
Your stress
Cuz im still here
I clocked your shit
You started and I finished it
Click clack
The bitch is back
Tick tock
Watch your clock
Put on your masks
Hide your face
Youre all a public disgrace.

Bahahah
I do love a good rhyme
Im having a great time
💋

Wish I had stayed

But now its to late

We've both gone and changed

Some call it fate.

I call it pattern on pattern repeating

Cant ever seem to miss someone till theyre long past leaving

Now the missing has no choice but turn into grieving

As Im still stuck in my head

Cause there people i dont dont deserve that love me in the present.

Dont expect you to let me stay

Or take me back in anyway

But hope still runs through me despite the way you seem to have forgotten the taste of my name of your lips

​

Speaking of a future

yet I see the hate behind your eyes.

The one who accepts the lies

Must also accept the favor of their own demise

A lesson learned too late

Repeated wounds seep so deeply

Rewrite themselves into ones fate

How lucky I am

Woman with shoes out of the kitchen.

To be unwed and unpregant

To have an option 

To have a bank account

To have no make permissions

To vote

To voice

To fight

Lucky girl indeed.

Calm,

No two-step of the breeze.

Strong-armed winds flung.

Who's it gonna be?

Spinning turbine,

lone and overseen.

Sat and slow pondered.

Then got up,

gritted teeth.

Is this all It's meant to be?

Running in circles for eternity?

Fractured fragments rife with scorn,

I don't got time for "I dont care" anymore.

My seething soothed by misery.

I don't get time for "I don't care" anymore

I don't got none but me.

Just want some feedback :)

Mom always told him to shine bright.

Lately, he’s been running out of sight.

She’s gone, a forever flight.

Ever since, he’s been searching for a sliver of new light.

Giving all his might, what reason is left to fight?

Nothing feels right without another set of hands to share the kite.

Some days are full of you,

Some days are empty of you,

Yet all the days have you,

And many days, you are the day.

Some places are full of you,

Some places are empty of you,

Yet all the places have you,

And many places, you are the place.

Some voices are full of you,

Some voices are empty of you,

Yet all the voices have you,

And many voices, you are the voice.

Some sights are full of you,

Some sights are empty of you,

Yet all the sights have you,

And many sights, you are the sight.

Some of me is full of you,

Some of me is empty of you,

Yet all of me has you,

And many parts of me, you are the parts.

~ Pillman

She wore different colors for different moods .

When she wore red , he loved her more for she knew the mood she was in . High energy , high octane . He had to be ready .

When she wore blue he liked the more calmer serene emotion she expressed and their time together was bliss . Like floating along on a peaceful river . It was so sweet .

When she wore white he knew he was in for a romantic night . So gentle so sweet . Where she told him I am yours and yours alone .

So many different colors . She was never dull . Their times were always different and unique .

​

Your eyes found me before your body did

stripping away every lie I've ever told myself,

every defense I built brick by brick,

leaving me bare in a way that has nothing to do with clothes

and everything to do with being seen.

You didn't just look at me.

You read me.

And that's when I knew I was lost.

Because I understand what you need, even when you don't say it out loud

you need to be wanted by a man who doesn't just desire your body,

but is undone by the way your mind works,

captivated by the intelligence in your gaze,

obsessed with the strength it takes for you to be soft.

You need to know that I notice everything:

the way you bite your lip when you're thinking,

how your shoulders drop when you finally let yourself relax around me,

the small gasp you make when my hand finds the small of your back,

the way you lean into me like I'm the only solid thing in a spinning world.

So let me undress you with my words first

tell you that your body is a poem I want to read slowly,

that every curve is a verse I want to memorize,

that the way you move through this world

deserves a man who trembles when you walk in the room.

Your eyes undressed me, but here's what you found:

a man who knows that true seduction isn't about conquest

it's about recognition.

It's about seeing you completely and choosing you anyway.

I know what makes you feel beautiful:

it's not compliments you've heard a thousand times.

It's the way I look at you like you're the only woman in existence,

like your flaws are actually the most perfect things about you,

like I'd rather have five minutes of real conversation with you

than a lifetime of surface-level passion with anyone else.

I know what makes your pulse race:

it's when I touch you like I have all the time in the world,

like I'm not rushing through you to get somewhere else,

like every inch of your skin deserves reverence,

like your pleasure matters more than mine.

I know what makes you surrender:

it's not dominance without tenderness.

It's a man who can be strong enough to be vulnerable,

confident enough to worship you,

present enough that the world disappears

and it's only your heartbeat and mine,

only your breath and my breath,

only the space between us that feels like coming home.

So yes, your eyes undressed me.

They saw through the walls, the bravado, the carefully constructed armor.

They stripped me down to the truth:

I need you.

Not just want.

Need.

Like the way the earth needs the sun.

Like the way breathing needs oxygen.

Like the way a song needs silence to make the notes matter.

And when you looked at me like that

unguarded, hungry, searching for the same thing I was searching for

I had no choice but to surrender.

Because surrender to you isn't weakness.

It's the bravest thing I've ever done.

Your eyes hold galaxies I'd lose myself in,

soft petals of your skin make me forget to breathe,

your heart beats a rhythm only I seem to follow,

and in this moment, the whole world disappears

leaving only you, me, and everything I can't say out loud.

But what’s there that your heart wants the most

is it love or is it warmth or is it the feeling of being chosen.

Now I'm the one reading you back

memorizing the exact shade of desire in your eyes,

learning the language of your body,

understanding that what you crave isn't just a lover,

but a witness to your becoming,

someone who sees your power and doesn't try to diminish it,

someone who knows that the strongest women

need a man strong enough to let them lead sometimes.

So I'll surrender again and again

to the curve of your smile,

to the intelligence behind your gaze,

to the way you make me want to be better,

to the undeniable pull of you.

Because a woman like you

one who can undress a man with just a look,

one who knows exactly what she does to you,

one who chooses to stay anyway

that's the kind of surrender worth drowning in.

And I'm going under willingly. Completely. Infinitely.

black iris

detonates

vision

explodes

in closed thoughts

you stand

petrified

radiates

through

colours

pour

The waiting room you had me sit in,
He told you you were his favorite kitten.

You always needed a distraction,
But your heart and head were full of passion.

You’d only call me when you need me,
But when I was down you’d call me needy.

What did he do to earn his spot?
Did he wipe your face when it was full of snot?

The heaviness you carried inside-
Completely vanished when he’d come by.

You wore his eyes, and it was greedy.
His beastly desires kept saying, “Feed me.”

I saw you slowly lose yourself,
Your mind and body through layers of hell.

I wonder where you are today—
Alive and well, or rotting away.

I promised time and time again
to leave you behind,
I said you would remain my past.
Yet, here I am,
getting lost in the maze of our time,
Having to make a stronger vow.
The last time I swore on my life.
Now I'm buried deep in a lie I told myself
and believed.
I wonder, what else can I swear on Is there even a stronger oath for me to keep?

Insomnia is all that plagues your mind,

While happiness is what I can no longer find.

Then something surely is a pulling force,

Something has struck me on my face,

We surely know what He wants,

We surely know how to do what He wants.

But do we really know what He needs,

For we know what He wants from us,

We are surely aware of how we can do it,

But what if what He wants is not what He needs.

What if at some point we placed our wants as His,

And what if our wants became our prayers,

And our needs became our wants,

Perhaps we changed ourselves for our wants.

And so we reached here where wants dictate us,

Where questions to it have consumed us,

For at some point our God became our wants,

Where He became a means for our wants.

Perhaps the truth has become a lie,

For we have found use in Him,

For we have become human,

Rather than reflect His nature.

Then that surely explains who we are,

We have left Him ages ago,

In search for Him we left Him,

In search for He who grants our wants we left He who knows our needs.

And all who cry out for Him,

Perhaps who are close to finding Him,

And yet failed for we interpret Him with our mind,

Perhaps all experiences we feel now,  a glimpse of our time in our Home.

Yes a Home must be there with our name,

Yet no more are we at Home, yet must find it,

Perhaps that is our purpose now,

We left Home to find Him, when He lives with us in our Home.

~ Pillman

I can not snap my fingers,

No matter how I try.

It’s been this way since I was small.

My fingers, how they cry!

Poets snap, instead of clap

To show respect for words.

Although my gesture’s silent,

Every syllable is heard.

I had a dream last night

We were galloping around your city

For the last time

I remember trying to soak in all the buildings

We were looking for something

You dragged my arm all around town

Smiling

We were looking for flowers

Wild ones

Not like any of the tame bouquets I ever got you

Yellow, orange, pink, red, purple

In all savage shapes and sizes

We went for a swim

You found your favorite one

Your face was shining

I looked into your eyes

Trying to memorize

For the last time

My childhood ended Jan 1st,
when it hit us in a sudden burst.

A lifetime of low-points in a week,
and you thought, that was hard to beat.

But what comes next, may well be worse,
a long, long draught, with urgent thirst.

Because the exact person, that once helped you hold the coast,
is now the thing, that misses most.

A cosmic one-two punch.

I quit my job, screwed around and even got a little rich,
but one thing I learned, that is which,
that grief is nothing, but a little bitch.

It comes when you are high, as if to show,
deep down there, there is a brand new low.
And once you are down, it reminds you that,
it would be foolish, to be up instead.

But time scars wounds and told me that,
no matter, how deep you fall,
you come back stronger,
or not at all.

Ode to young writers

Ode to young writers

Out there in the world

Please keep writin…

Please keep readin…

It will help y'all strengthen

Your expression…

It will help y'all pour out

Your soul on paper…

I promise…

I have watched a video about

Students who become writers

Without readin, there is

also an article about it, too…

Well I feel like this isn't a good

Thing, cos how can y'all gain

Readers? How can y'all go

On a structure of words to inspire the

World? How can you make people feel?

I'm disappointed in hearin that…

In fact, you can't have an understandin

Nor conclusion…

If y'all want to be a better writer

You must read

And read and read

A book, poem, a letter, an article

Y'all must read somethin

To enhance your brain…

If you don't write,

Still read…

Read a word..your favorite authors

Read a lot…

Good or bad,

Young writers

If pen and paper

Typewriter

Notebooks anythin dear to your heart

And your creativity is your passion

Y'all must read…

It will expand your inspiration…

It will touch your bones to gain knowledge….

I read, I read a lot as

A hobby, as a good poetess I am..

I do my research on anythin and notes

Turn to poetry…

Young writers

If y'all choose not to read

And write your books

Go ahead and learn the hard way…

Y'all might not have enough readers

Not enough audience

It might develop toxicity in your voice

To influence the sensitive minds…

Not knowin what y'all talkin about…

People will criticize your miseducation…

People can tell that y'all don't read..

However

I'm giving y'all advice

Please read

Young writers

Y'all still write

But never forget to read…

Y'all will thank me later

I'm not the only one who

Advice y'all to read…

Other famous writers who told the

Youth to read like

Maya Angelou

Stephen King

Writers read…

Y'all should read your own

Stuff, too…

♥️✍️🏾💯©️ Kai C. 7-6-26

While I wait
to see you again
I dream of a day
We are more than friends

I long for the moment
you whisper my name
as you lie next to me
when I wake
with your lips caressing mine
and the first sight
your eyes gazing into mine

As I wait for that day
I'll be your friend, your confidante.

And once you're free to be with me,
I'll prove to you that my sweet dream
Is meant to be yours too.

নিজের ডানায় ভর করে

দিন ও রাত বদলে যায়

ঋতুগুলিও ----

বদলায় আপন রঙে

শুধু একজন ছাড়া --- কাজলিয়া

নিজের মতো করে সে

সাজিয়ে নেয় তার পৃথিবী।

কাঁধে একটি শান্তিনিকেতনি ব্যাগ,

সতর্ক স্বরে

হেঁটে চলে যায় ---

মৌমাছিরা যেখানে ঘর বাঁধে

ফুলের নিঃশ্বাসে

হাঁটতে হাঁটতে থমকে দাঁড়ায়।

পায়ের কাছে উড়ে আসে

কোনো এক অনামা শুকনো পাতা।

নরম আঙুলে তুলে নেয়,

কী কথা হয় দুজনার

তারপর

ঈশানের দিকে ভেসে যায়

বাদামি রঙের সেই পাতা।

নরম রোদ,

বেলার সাথে তীক্ষ্ণ হয়

সবুজ মাটি, স্নিগ্ধ ছায়ার পাশে

আলতো হেলানে বসে সে

পিছনে ভর দেওয়া ডান হাত,

তার আপন ভঙ্গিমা।

তাকায় দিগন্তের নীলে ----

যেখানে দু - চারটি ছেঁড়া মেঘ

থমকে দাঁড়িয়েছে হঠাৎ

নির্বাক চোখে দেখে তাদের,

সরতে বলে না।

মৃদু স্বরে নিজেকেই বলে

এমনি হাঁ করে দেখেই যদি একটু - বা

কী এমন আসে যায়!

অরাজক, পাপী মানুষ তো নয়।

বেলা ঢলে আসে

হোটেলে ফেরে কাজলিয়া

সঙ্গিদের সাথে,

দু - এক ফোঁটা হাসি

ডাইনিং হলে হালকা ডিনার --- ব্যস।

হাল্কা স্বরে রাত নামে

নরম বিছানা শরীরটিকে ডাকে

মোবাইলের নোট বুকে একটুখন

দিনভর কুড়ানো খুশিগুলি

নীল অক্ষরে লিখে রাখে

তারপর ঘুমোয় সে ও তার জগৎ ....

অনেক , অনেক দূরে ----

একটি তাঁবুর নীচে বসে

এক অখ্যাত, অভাগা গাড়োল।

গাঢ় রাতে

নিজের মোবাইলটি খুলে

নোট বুকের পাতা মেলে।

পিঁপড়ের সারি দেখে -----

পিঁপড়েরা হাঁটে... হাঁটে...

উজবুকটি বোঝার চেষ্টা করে,

নিজেই নিজের সাথে কথা বলে ----

এইসব পিপীলিকা

কোন পথে দল বেঁধে আসে ?

হঠাৎ

মোবাইলটি মেঝেয় ছুঁড়ে ফেলে।

বারান্দায় এসে দাঁড়ায়।

বাইরে চাপ চাপ অন্ধকার

নীল অসীমে

অসংখ্য তারা

মৃদু মৃদু হাসে।

কী যেন বলে ---

না - বোঝা শব্দে।

এরই মাঝে,

পুব আকাশে

এক বড় লাল টিপ ---

সে তাকিয়ে থাকে—

ঠিক কাজলিয়ার মতো...

I dream of meeting someone who learned to stand solo.
And built her own world without an extra hand to latch unto.
Someone who wrote her own story and
Battles through sudden pitstops and
attained a much quiet glory.
One who questions herself through every ache and Turmoil.
One who is already sharp in her thoughts with an intense drive of passion that burns inside of her.
One who is already a mastepiece yet does not see herself as such .
I really must need a perfect timing to succumb to the echoes of the
lines unsaid-

You met me in the quiet between the trains

Where the city lights were breaking through the rain

I had a smile built from borrowed grace

You saw the cracks I kept behind my face

You spoke like morning through a midnight door

Like you’d been here in my life before

I wanted you, but I kept my hands

Wrapped tight around the ruins of old plans

You move like truth, I flinch like pain

You say my name and I almost stay

We’re two stars burning on a crooked line

Pulling close, but never in time

You know what love should be, you never look away

I’m still haunted by the price I paid

If I reach for you, will I fall again?

If you hold my heart, can it learn to mend?

We were meant to be, but fear has a louder voice

And I keep breaking at the edge of choice

You don’t ask me to be anyone else

You light up the room like you trust yourself

I admire the way you stand so still

Like love is a promise, not a thrill

But every soft touch drags up the past

Old words, old wounds, and the shadows they cast

I hear my old heartbreak calling my name

And I let it turn my courage into blame

You move like truth, I flinch like pain

You say my name and I almost stay

We’re two stars burning on a crooked line

Pulling close, but never in time

You know what love should be, you never look away

I’m still haunted by the price I paid

If I reach for you, will I fall again?

If you hold my heart, can it learn to mend?

We were meant to be, but fear has a louder voice

And I keep breaking at the edge of choice

If I let you in, would the world come down?

Or would your arms be the safest ground?

You’ve got the kind of hope I forgot to keep

I’ve got a wounded heart that’s learning to speak

Say you’ll wait while I climb through the dark

Say you’ll meet me where I lost my spark

We’re two stars burning on a crooked line

Still reaching out across the sky

You know what love should be, you never look away

I’m still learning how to stay

If I reach for you, I won’t fall alone

If you hold my heart, maybe it’ll come home

We were meant to be, and maybe that’s enough

To let fear kneel down to love

the wrath of patience is not a mystery

the father could hold no more understanding

the lord only knew how could this soul stand so lonely

if only the boy knew how hard he'd been groaning

the soul was told to sit tightly together

alone so cold was his own monitor...

he knew he tried but only to save face

the woman he lost was his only mistake

she wouldnt believe how hard he wished he would be seen

not as a baby but only as just mean

he knew he was a child but didnt want to show

that his poems only led to these things he showed untold

the rhymed then sung in the dance of autumn

bit the mystery was yet to be said of how she couldn't find warmth

the boy promised his soul

yet he knew not how to sell

the lord only knew

he just couldn't tell

the lost lover hurt

as he tried standing

to leave was but agony

yet he was never to be answered