Life gets better.

Today only holds so many tomorrows so why spend so many todays worrying about yesterday when yesterday is gone? This is life. This is it. Let us live. Let us live.

[inspiretbh]

This love might be closed, but it is not locked. If you ever bother to knock on my door again, I'll open up with a smile.

kayla a. kitchen

[inspiretbh]

Sometimes, I catch myself wanting to find bleak in beauty again. I see ocean and think of drowning. I see tire swing noose hung upon front yard tree. I see mountain and think of cliffside suicides. Rooted beneath my feet, Mother Nature asks: "Do you appreciate the beauty in all that I have created, my child?" "If there was beauty in everything that you have created, tell me, Mother: what happened to me?

“Dysmorphia and the Dandelions: for those who don’t see rose” by kayla a. kitchen

[inspiretbh]

11 years ago, my sister came out to my parents. 11 years ago, she was kicked out of the house for bringing a girl home. 11 years later, i come out to my parents. 11 years later, my sister and her girlfriend stay the weekend at my house. time changes people. with education comes understanding. people change. ignorance has no hold on us. love will always prevail.

be who you are, regardless of those who want you to be different (via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

We are all our own worlds, but you've got me in your orbit.

falling in love with the stars in her eyes

[inspiretbh]

I will be performing on Thursday, the 20th of July, at 7 pm in San Francisco! If you’d like to see me perform my spoken word live and participate in writing workshops with my amazing poet friends and myself, come join us at the international Brave New Voices festival, this year in my hometown of San Francisco!

If you’d like to check out our awesome spoken word on youtube or find out more about the festival, check out YouthSpeaks and BraveNewVoices. Search for Kayla Kitchen if you want to see pieces specifically by me!

The next generation can speak for itself!

[inspiretbh]

You can lead me to the path, but I am the only one who can walk it.

i found life at my lowest point

[inspiretbh]

1. Puppy love. The long hugs, the sweet laughs, and the little trinkets and trifles took up my heart in every way possible. How miraculous, now my heart is vacant. 2. I moved away. I left you there. We haven’t talked since. 3. Immaturity haunted us. I was lost in your crystal oceans but you were too naive to realize I was drowning. 4. Gravity pulled us together only to pull us apart. What else is there to say, you were the cosmos and I was nothing but a speck of stardust.  5. I wanted to call and tell you I haven’t gone a day without thinking about you. My hands were shaking too much to dial, and my voice was too unsteady to speak. But hello, I haven’t gone a day without thinking about you. 6. I was sitting on the couch when you answered the phone. You said you loved her. I got up and left. 7. You’re anything but poetry. You do not reek of rhymes or sayings. But I can still hear you in the roar of the roads and see you in the streets. You are not poetry, no: you are stronger than that.               8. Lavender. A love so gentle, we couldn't speak of it. Flowers aren't supposed to grow in concrete. But we grew a garden of affection and amity, sheets of sunflowers upon a bed of roses. Underneath your covers, a love grew, too. I'm not supposed to love you.  I never knew home could be within a daisy's arms. But daisies wilt, too. And wilt, we did.

7 boys named heartbreak and a girl called love (via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

Did you leave because you feared I would leave as well?

if we both pull away, there is no coming back

(via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

True love is biting the bullet she put in my throat.

with the trigger at my temple, i told you to go with him

(via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

Asking for help is not an act of giving up: it is a sign of moving forward.

it took me so long to realize

[inspiretbh]

you were at the tip of my grasp, you were almost apart of my soul.

[inspiretbh]

Do you love me for who I am or for what I do for you?

(via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

I grew up as the awkward girl Slightly bad eyes Too tall Too gangly Bad teeth And frizzy hair I was the undesirable friend or The ugly duckling If you will. I saw myself as smart and witty I saw my smartass remarks and my jokes as funny I saw my strength and my kindness But I never thought anyone would see past my shell see past it all and find those things attractive. Nonetheless, The ugly duckling became a swan Her height was nice Her gangliness turned to curves She got braces And learned to manage her hair And she became desirable. But I didn’t become desirable My heart wasn’t wanted, It was the two breasts that accented it. My smarts weren’t acknowledged, But the hips and curves were. I was never wanted, It was always her. And maybe I was a plus, A tiny side dish to her platter But he came for her, And sort of enjoyed me. And he stayed for her, Until I became too much. “You’ll never be her.” It’s sad the only competition Was myself.

Bodies by b.c. (via.inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

Beautiful boy. I miss you more than words. The oxygen in the air is poisonous and my heart has been split in thirds. One for you, one for me; and one for the girl with long, blonde hair. Your undying absence inside of me is just too much to bare. Beautiful boy. Do her lips still taste like mine? Does she put the sun in your skies only to remind you of the shoreline? The sand in your sweater from the hurricane and our laughs within the waves. Does she remind you of the times when you used to be so brave? Beautiful boy. You tied me down but always made me feel like I could fly. I took to the edge of the willow tree only to hear you say goodbye. What's the point of loving when you had no love to give? The girl with a halo upon her head had been given a chance to live. Beautiful boy. Why did you have to be so sweet? Sweet to the point of bitterness that put the killing between my teeth. Don't forget the times we spent with passion in your eyes. Explain to me the reason why your eyes are now filled with lies? Beautiful boy. I miss you more than the stars. I miss you more than the passing people in their blue and black cars. Blue and black like the bruise you left upon my skin that night. You never laid a finger on me but we always felt like a fight. Beautiful boy. I hope she's better for you. I still can't comprehend the beautiful roses spread throughout the morning dew. I am but a daisy: please remember, I don't have thorns. She will cut you up and make you bleed until you realize that you are torn. Beautiful boy. I hope you miss me too. I hope you loved me as much as I fell in love with you. But sometimes the bluebirds don't sing and the wildflowers don't grow. I guess that this is it and that it's time for me to go.

Beautiful Boy by Kayla Kitchen (via.inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

dear body, I'm sorry for the scars on your back and slits on your hips, dressing your legs like your favorite skirt. I never meant to do you any harm, but along the way, my hands couldn't help but strangle your throat and break at your rib cage. I'm sorry for the indent in your wrist when you lost so much blood, you blacked out. I'm sorry for hair too long and being dressed only in hospital gowns nowadays. dear stomach, I'm sorry for starving you. But when you twist and turn and tip and topple over while I'm walking or talking or simply sitting down, I loose my appetite. Everything tastes bitter now and I can see you sticking out from the bones of my rib cage. I'm sorry. dear lungs, I'm sorry the smoke was too much to bear and the bronchitis didn't help. The doctors thought there was a tumor in you, but they told me you were fine. I guess the phlegm riddled with blood didn't mean anything and not being able to breathe was clinically normal. dear hands, I'm sorry you had to do all the dirty work for me. From taking out blades to unscrewing prescription pill bottles, I'm sorry for your tapping tantrum and calloused palms. But most of all, I'm sorry for dragging you across the skin of the people I used to love who could never love me. dear legs, I'm sorry you carry the weight of the world. I am nothing more than a burden of baggage and I'm sorry you have to lug me around all day long. If only you could run again, or maybe even walk. Drop the bags on the airport floor and let the wobble in your knees take over. It's time for you to give out. dear brain, I'm sorry for cussing at you and hitting my head against the wall until you couldn't function anymore. I'm sorry for the bruises inside my mind and on the outskirts of my forehead. I wish you had more happy chemicals so that I could be normal again, but I was never normal in the first place. dear heart, You're mangled and wretched and broken and torn. But your still beating. Give it up. Your beat has slowed and come to a standstill. I can't hear you anymore. Stop falling in love with people you can't have. Stop beating for the people who leave you in a pile of flesh and bone. dear face, Maybe if you weren't so ugly, people would've liked you more. Your crooked nose is unattractive and your lips are hideous. Your head is disfigured and your eyes are misshapen. Why do you have to be so unsightly? Why do you have to be the first thing I see in the mirror? dear neck, I'm sorry for the hickeys scattered around from strangers and the feeling of his hand around you still lurking in the sheets. I'm sorry you ever hung from a noose and that the ceiling fan had broke. If only you had hung there longer, we wouldn't be in this mess. dear hips, I wish you had grown wider instead of inside out. You cave in at my sides and I hate the way that looks. I wish you could be like the prettier girls but no matter how much I tried, you were practically never there. dear me, I'm sorry for ever being born. If I had a choice, I would go back and make sure you never existed. But we're here, and the walls have shut in on two hands and a heartbeat. But I can't hear that heart beating anymore. There's no use in living when the ground is giving out and the world won't stop shaking. If this body was meant to be home for me, I would've already settled in. But 16 years have come and gone and I'm ready to tear the roof off of this place and burn down every wall until theres nothing left but soot in the ashtray next to my lit cigarette. If you were ever home to me, I'm sure I would've known. But all you ever were to me was simply skin and bones.

Dear me, myself, and I (via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

You were a soulmate with no soul, a lover with no heart. I gave you everything and you gave me nothing.

This is the last love letter (via. inspiretbh)

[inspiretbh]

Struggling with anorexia was not brave, nor selfless. It was nights spent crowded over the toilet seat because I had a bite of bread. It was looking in the mirror and obsessing over every little flaw, every little mistake marked on my body. It was the bruised collarbones from hitting myself too hard and waking up in the morning only to pick up all the pieces of myself covering the bedroom carpet from the night before. It was bloody noses from dehydration and the taste of salty tears sitting on my tongue when my eyes could not cry anymore. It continued to be a casualty: looking down at the scale to see a number that was too big for my body. I would fit my feet into smaller shoes and tie the laces around my neck until I suffocated from the strain of the weight pulling me down beneath my toes. It was picking at my rib cage from my stomach and seeing my heart beat through my chest. It was small breasts, a thigh gap, and scissors to cut my cellulite. It was burns on my back over stretch marks so I would somehow stop growing. My face is still covered in peach fuzz from the cold nights when I began to shut down and my body still needed body heat. It was admitting to the doctor that I had been eating less and less each day only to have a tube up my nose and an IV in my arm. It wasn't pretty, or heroic. It wasn't beautiful, nor poetic. It was dying each and everyday when I skipped breakfast and continued to tell everyone that I was fine. Sometimes, I still have an urge to skip a meal. I have accepted myself for who I am. But the crippling ache of anorexic nights never simply disappear. The craving to ignore my body needs, never goes away. Anorexia is not a new trend, or a diet. It is a mental illness that follows you forever.