The End

It was all about
to end
as the sun
faded
to black
and the crack
inside the
galaxy
shattered
into eternity
and the moon
decided
to leave
and she swiftly took
the seas
to spite
our disappearing light
into the desert
we were led
and all our hope
was surely dead
but as the winds
were screaming
as the blue sky
turned to
red
the last lonesome
thought
to ever
enter my
weary head
was the memory
of you-

dipped in sunlight

stretched across

my king

size

bed

And long after
we all are dead
and into the end
we are led
I hope the Earth
remembers this:

that once

two people

were

happy

here.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 1.27.17

Bodega Roses

Lower East Side at midnight
his place
filled with lingering
wafts of 3 pm spliffs
and empty bottles
of cheap scotch,
I can never remember
the brand.
It made him feel like
James Bond
or Hemingway
when he drank it.
I didn’t want to
make him feel bad.
Bodega roses
of red and yellow
just for me,
in an old vase
on the kitchen table,
a patched crack
runs down the middle
of the glass.
I run my finger along it,
waiting for it
to pierce my skin,
but it never does.
He never takes his time
before his hands are
running up my legs
and under my skirt,
feeling his way inside,
before he lifts me
and sets me
on the table,
along side the flowers.
My eyes make contact
with their vibrant petals
as my pants
are pushed
to the side.
We have sex because
it’s what people
like us do.
My eyes close
and my mind wanders
to the painting of Ophelia
I saw at the
Tate Britain
a lifetime ago,
and the man who
wept
for her absence.
The bodega roses
come back into focus,
instead of his face.
We don’t make
eye contact
when he fucks me
anymore.
They are facing him,
even though I’m facing
them.
Because the truth is,
only one of us blooms for him.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 3.26.17

Moonlight

It was never ok,
Never quite settled
Or content,
Always a sense of
Rattled hearts
And splintered fingertips,
Reaching for the moonlight
As it spilt across your back
On October nights when
The windows were open
And the air was cool
As ice in tall glasses
On Saturdays in July,
But you never stirred,
Unable to feel the silver slivers
Of light
Piercing your skin,
But I saw it
And it shook me,
Until the breath left my lungs
And my lips met your spine,
Tucked beneath the warmth of your skin,
Radiating like sunlight in summer
The whole year round.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 7.14.17

Wildflowers

Heavy eyes
Failing to look towards
The light,
Even when it’s dark as midnight,
As if searching for the emptiness
They wish to escape.
Sinking, hollow pit
Pulling down the guts,
Anchoring them to the immovable
Feast of a desperate life,
Malignant melancholy
That freezes the heart
Between beats,
And rips the hair at the root
Before eating away
At the skin,
Hopeless living
Hopeless loss
Hopeless love,
Sinking into the dewy blades
Of overgrown summer grass
And scorched wildflowers,
Canary as the birds I used to hear
Singing,
When the sun would rise
And the soul could still eat
At the banquet of immortal life.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 7.14.17

Bodega Roses

Lower East Side at midnight
his place
filled with lingering
wafts of 3 pm spliffs
and empty bottles
of cheap scotch,
I can never remember
the brand.
It made him feel like
James Bond
or Hemingway
when he drank it.
I didn’t want to
make him feel bad.
Bodega roses
of red and yellow
just for me,
in an old vase
on the kitchen table,
a patched crack
runs down the middle
of the glass.
I run my finger along it,
waiting for it
to pierce my skin,
but it never does.
He never takes his time
before his hands are
running up my legs
and under my skirt,
feeling his way inside,
before he lifts me
and sets me
on the table,
along side the flowers.
My eyes make contact
with their vibrant petals
as my pants
are pushed
to the side.
We have sex because
it’s what people
like us do.
My eyes close
and my mind wanders
to the painting of Ophelia
I saw at the
Tate Britain
a lifetime ago,
and the man who
wept
for her absence.
The bodega roses
come back into focus,
instead of his face.
We don’t make
eye contact
when he fucks me
anymore.
They are facing him,
even though I’m facing
them.
Because the truth is,
only one of us blooms for him.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 3.26.17

The End

It was all about
to end
as the sun
faded
to black
and the crack
inside the
galaxy
shattered
into eternity
and the moon
decided
to leave
and she swiftly took
the seas
to spite
our disappearing light
into the desert
we were led
and all our hope
was surely dead
but as the winds
were screaming
as the blue sky
turned to
red
the last lonesome
thought
to ever
enter my
weary head
was the memory
of you-

dipped in sunlight

stretched across

my king

size

bed

And long after
we all are dead
and into the end
we are led
I hope the Earth
remembers this:

that once

two people

were

happy

here.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 1.27.17

Separation

All laws in this country have to be written WITHOUT the influence of religious beliefs. Religious beliefs have no bearing on the laws in this country, because we have a clear separation of church and state, or at least we are supposed to. We are NOT a theocracy. Your religious beliefs don’t support same sex marriage or abortion? Who cares, because your own religious beliefs don’t matter when it comes to written law. Your personal beliefs, have no bearing on the laws in this nation. Laws are to be written without the influence of any religious doctrine in the United States of America. So your own personal beliefs, and the personal, religious beliefs of your congresspeople and senators and PRESIDENT, have NO BEARING on the laws of this country. Laws are to be written without such influences.

WE HAVE A SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE FOR A REASON.

The Bathtub

She sat in the lukewarm water for going on the second hour, and kept her eyes closed, not wanting to accidentally catch her reflection in the mirror opposite. She used to fit in this tiny bathtub much more easily, but she had stopped paying attention to what she ate at least six months ago; maybe longer, she couldn’t be sure anymore. The bath salts had settled under her legs and bum, the bubbles long since popped, leaving a milky, white film on the surface of the water. That deep sense of aching, that had been permeating her stomach and chest for hours was still there, sinking her further down onto the white ceramic, until she felt absorbed by the cool material. She never knew where this sadness came from, but when it hit, it felt like being stuck in a room as you watch the walls slowly be consumed with fire, and you’re waiting for the inevitable explosion. The heat of the flames sounded good right now, she mused. Reaching the tap to add hot water to the tub would be simple, but she couldn’t muster the energy to rise up and reach out for it, so instead, she sank further, until her head dipped below the surface of the water, and she could taste the manufactured lavender scent against her tongue. She didn’t know how long she was going to stay under there.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 1.23.17