Kaelyn Jane

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I think that the fact that I posses so much potential, whatever that means. Potential 'energy', potential power. I've always been told that what I am has potential. I can't just be powerful, or beautiful in the form I take in the present.

Why can't I? I don't understand it. The whole spectrum- rather than flattery, yes I demand truth.

I beg for it, but wallow in the pull it has on me. I fear there's always a big BUT in a sentence with my name in it, and everyone pronounces my name a little differently.

My mother, she pronounces it in this stern tone followed by an 'oh really' or ending in an overly slurred sentence through a wall on the phone in a conversation of how much I let everyone down.

I once had shown her a small series of writings I got recognition for in school, begged her to read them. She got distracted in conversation and slid them across the counter back to me, only insinuating that'd she would read them later. She might as well dumped her clearance red wine across the page, but I suppose smacking her purple teeth did just fine. I got it.

She never seemed interested ever again. Only when something appealed easily to the eye, that she didn't have to read into or dissect or compare and contrast.

So I drew a little but I was easily over shadowed by my older brothers very talented girlfriend, whom got to draw on my mothers wine chalk board, and not me.

The way my art teacher said my name, started to sound like my mother. Dazzling over her flowers he sent her and the obnoxious ring or wedding. She was everywhere, but there. Where I was, in that present time.


I specifically remember repeating my name to myself in my head, for comfort at first maybe a rabbit to come jump out of a hat. But then it became a compulsion, a reflex. It turned into other people's names who had failed to be around anymore, or sometimes one down the hall.

And I'd just cry, they didn't ever know how many times I said their name.

So when they say mine, and I hear it. I realize I am tangible. That I am not only a noun, but a Proper noun, and I don't have to be dead for people to listen.

My influence is powerful, and yes it is taunting to have so much in me. I am only intimidated by myself.

One day I feel so transparent, exhausted from all I felt from the day before. Others I do the simplest things, or see someone do something gracious. Or I hand that homeless boy a Gatorade I had just bought because he looked like a boy I used to love.

There's not a lot of trees in Arizona, but there is a lot of sky and I've learned it never looks the same. Never. I've learned I never look the same each day I wake up, and no one- nobody every says my name alike.

So I look up, and uncover the words I too much that day or try to take back a joke I made that was probably too crude, and I want to take a few things back because I think it'll make me better or more like somebody that someone would want to love or someone of higher class would do.


Sometimes, sometimes I want to take back the amount of love and hope I invest, hope especially.

Hope is unending, harder to lose than love ever could be.

I almost always regret not pouring more in my cup, and then by the time I finish- its too late to go back for more.

I only realize after its done that I didn't have enough.

Are you following me?

I thought so.

I knew you would.

I guess this is just a mental note, that I shouldn't feel like I have to stop thinking anyway I do now, I shouldn't feel like its not okay to be so sad it makes me sick, but as long as its only sometimes.

Sometimes is quite alright.

Hope you're still here,

If it makes you feel any better I've probably repeated your name in my head 478 times.

If you were there, with me in a moment where everyone was everywhere else- you never went unnoticed.