January 2010
3 posts
1 tag
formspring.me
What would be the best thing about being a vampire?
Necks. They’re already my favorite part of the human anatomy. Just now, I’d be licensed to bite them.
Ask me anything
1 tag
formspring.me
What would your dream job look like?
23 out of 24 hours of my day would be complete chaos- busy every second, productive by the minute. Assisting in the promotion or management of a clothing company, band, or record label. With my own musical endeavors skyrocketing at the same time.
Ask me anything
1 tag
formspring.me
Ask me anything http://formspring.me/LeahReneaKain
August 2009
13 posts
Some people should realize;
You can only fight so hard to prove yourself to others.
There’s a point where they recognize it,
and stop trying to get you to play for them like puppets on a string.
Not everyone in life bends over backwards to break down metaphorical barriers.
Welcome to the world, kid.
And these words;
They’ll convince you.
“Because she can’t ever fall in love; cause this is who she is.
And this...”
For the record;
A Quad Grande Soy Latte and one Honest Tea make me as hyper as a motherfuhh- well, you understand.
And the silence
will set her free.
I am infinate;
opportunistic, evolutional, contradicting, dramatic, confused, and passionate.
If it was any other way, I would be miles from destination: content.
“Don’t act like you’re the first one,
I treat it like disease, sure...”
July 2009
2 posts
June 2009
40 posts
Sometimes I wonder;
if I have too much hope.
Then I remember,
it beats not having any at all.
Just a trick, to keep them on the cold plastic edges of thier seats.
Just a glance, to drown them in a sea of marble blue beliefs.
Hesitant to leave, too beautifully ignorant to speak the classic honesty.
Wonder where all the colors will go, when the gray storm breaks into infinity.
It’s temporary heavy weather, darkening the truth forever.
Eyelids to provide safety,
...
Kicking stones, by the hollowed dirt, on the bank of a muddy stream,
as I tip-toed far somehow, somewhere
on the puddles of my glassy starry-eyed dream.
You always read me like the book I pushed aside,
I couldn’t turn the pages of life’s fabricated lies.
Tonight I wonder if you even hardly ever care, and where you went-
-after you had your well worn share.
I’m diseased...
I’m a touch 1940’s black- and- white romantic,
verging on the edge of Days Of Our Lives dramatic.
Senseless yet sensitive, fated globally far from tragic,
Recite your processed words, and harbor my own syllables like an anchor-
first they taste bittersweet,
trust me, you’ll thank me later.
“I’ve never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions...”
“Tell me how bad, do you want it- oh you want it.
well fashioned entrances...”
I don't want to know all the answers;
the questions are far too fun to debate over anyway.
Sparks of constant curiousity to lighten and illuminate an otherwise dull evening in June.
As of this moment in time,
I am in absolute refusal to go another day with my Blackberry- okay so it might take a few weeks- but you’re picking up what I’m putting down!
This little buddy crossed the line, freezing mid-text on me, shutting off sneakily by itself, demonic piece of plastic and tiny hard to use qwerty keypad- I’ll show you.
Sidekick- I’m coming back to you, you always treated me...
We're all here in our places
where we should be; doing what we are predestined to have to do.
In a collaborative systematic routine, speaking and feeling as we so please.
Walking, holding, rushing, hoping, scheming, and loving- even the act of hushed scarlet letter dreaming.
Can’t you see we’re all here, isn’t it the slightest bit apparent-
that we’re all following through the story in unison...
Ever since you donned footed pjs
and glued yourself permanently 9.4 centimeters away from the television set, bowl of Captian Crunch in hand- sloshing Vitamin D milk all over mom’s new Persian rug- you wouldn’t miss your Disney Channel Dailys for the world (unless of course you felt like hooking up the good ol’ SuperNintendo- but that’s another story.)
Disney was relatively innocent circa nineteen ninety...
AND AT THE END OF THE ROAD
I’LL HATE TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO.
