Archive | 11:09 PM

Being But Men – by Dylan Thomas

17 Aug

nicole rennae

Being but men, we walked into the trees
Afraid, letting our syllables be soft
For fear of waking the rooks,
For fear of coming
Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries.

If we were children we might climb,
Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig,
And, after the soft ascent,
Thrust out our heads above the branches
To wonder at the unfailing stars.

Out of confusion, as the way is,
And the wonder, that man knows,
Out of the chaos would come bliss.

That, then, is loveliness, we said,
Children in wonder watching the stars,
Is the aim and the end.

Being but men, we walked into the trees.

Dylan Thomas

View original post

Girl in the glass

17 Aug

nicole rennae

Girl in the glass

There is a girl hiding inside my glass.

Her hair is ruffled. wild.

She has a face. An INtent.


On the edge.


Her body pitches into poses.



She has want. Desire.



Begging to come out.

View original post


17 Aug







I swallow down two blue pills.


Chasing them were sips of water.


Fresh and chill…




I sat resting on a big burgundy chair.


Waiting for the pains to be lessened.


Freedom. Not a care.




Cravings of chocolate, bread-


candy and cookies, juice, pickles, pretzels ,


three wishes.




Oh, and salty fries.




©copyright Kyanna Kitt


Doubleganger: The First Encounter

17 Aug

Mindlovemisery ❤

Doublegangers: The First Encounter

A few years back after my grandfather had passed, I had a most unnerving experience. Firstly I’ll start by telling about my grandfather. He was a holy man, a healer of sorts, average in height and very slender. My youngest memory of him is of hearing an alarm clock sound, I believe it was in the kitchen, and him walking promptly down the stairs to greet my grandmother and his cup of coffee- Anyway, I digress- I never have smelled anything more delicious than her coffee-

Eh- ehm. Now where was I? Right- Grandpa, or ‘pop pop’ as I called him. He spoke to me a lot about things. Diving things. Holy creatures. He had a way of knowing he was the only one I could speak to as a child having been tormented by lost souls, witch spirits, and maybe even demons

It was a chilly fall night, I believe it was October. I had just finished cleaning my room. Wiping down the smudged windows, folding all of the bawled up clothes. Vacuuming the carpet. I was now placed in front of the mirror that was attached to my dresser organizing hygiene products, nail polish, pens, thumbtacks and so many more irrelevant things I can’t seem to remember. At this point I was just ready to go to bed. I had put hours of effort into this work and dammit I deserved sleep.

All of that suddenly vanished as a figure appeared in the mirror- I figured that by the time I turned around that the apparition would have vanished. I’ve seen them before probably over 100. Spirits are everywhere. Inherently so, because we are everywhere. I slowly turned around, and when I say slowing I mean snail slow, an inch a minute, vertebrae by vertebrae. My eyes slowly rotating toward the 5 headed flower lamp that stood directly behind me. And guess what? There he was, still, pop pop was standing in my room. He was a little shorter than I had remembered- And it didn’t just stop there. His arms down past his knees, he wasn’t even dressed the same. His shirt a plaid, red button up the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His shorts appeared ripped midway to the calf – This could not be my grandfather, In fact at this point I’m certain it was not my grandfather.

My eyes scoping this creature out. He wasn’t wearing any shoes and appeared as if he had just came out of the ground. His toe nails looked as if they hadn’t been cut in a hundred years, they like his fingers were abnormally long and discoloured as were his phalanges. His fingers and toes were about 10 inches long in length. This let me know that whatever the heck was in my room wasn’t even the least bit human despite it’s efforts. His eyes were pitch black and were nothing worse than the large veins that had shown through his skin. The ears pointed and angled. It’s mouth drew out so long that it’s snarled grin was ear to ear. Literally. This that was grotesque. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t- I wouldn’t. My sister was resting on the bed after all. I absolutely would never leave her for that… that.. thing to do what so ever it pleased. As I stood studying the creature in my now frigid cold room- So cold you could literally see your breath cold room- It started becoming familiar. This thing wasn’t just a thing, this thing was a demon. A real life in the flesh demon.

Drop. Drop.

All of a sudden blood was spilling from my nose. I kept watching it though. I didn’t move- This amused him. His mouth curling with content. Hundreds of sharp dingy brown shark-like teeth exposed.

Be gone filthy demon- Leave me, leave this home, you are not welcome her,” I spoke looking into its nothingness eyes.

Its smirk lingered as light bulb by light bulb began to literally burst. The room, now dimly lit by only two out of the original five light bulbs, the remaining two flickering. Me eyes didn’t let up- Blood still trickling, pouring down my night top. I don’t know what happened or why he let up. But he did. After a good five grueling minutes it was gone. It had left.

I did research later that night finding that certain demons like taking on the physical appearance of deceased loved ones. This didn’t make sense. Pop pop wasn’t dead. Not that I knew of. Needless to say that next day my father told me, while we were riding to a customers house that my grandfather had passed a week earlier and that he didn’t want to tell me because blah, blah, blah.

Even today, I still wonder if sweetness would win…

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Journal Entry

17 Aug


I woke up this morning stretching and yawning as I rolled about my pallet on the floor. My eyes slowly blinked as I caught my first visions of that day. Papers- Notes, stories, poems, strewn all about my room, just as the clothes, shirts and shoes I had so lazily threw around earlier in the week.


I need to clean this filth immediately,” I spoke aloud turning to my belly to sit up.


The morning started as I knew it would. Work work work. It smelled as if an animal had died somewhere in the house, the back toilet was backed up for no apparent reason and there was shit spewing out of the tub. Now. Aside from my ovaries throbbing in pain in conjunction with my bleeding vagina- this was the most fucked up thing that could have happened. I started boiling water, spraying cleaners every where, running back and forth trying to fix these unlawful travesties….


The trash was take out- Dishes washed, the tub filled with the same harmful bleaches I wash the dishes with. So what? I’m weird like that. The garbage can filled with hot boiling water and that delicious smelling Hawaiian Lysol- The steam calling me it needed to fill my ostrils with 3 sweet seconds of paradise.


I rain to the computer thinking I must post on my blog or my 500 thousand followers are going to think I’m dead ( yeah right). Gotta get the ball rolling- Only to get put on hold due to my brothers addiction to Naruto Uzumaki.


»Damn you Naruto, I loathe thy very breath- Lest it leave you- «

Anyway, hopping into the shower for a few to wash the homemade cholesterol treatment I made off and freshen up-


Mr. Pry-or (God forsaken landlord) was rattling at the door of the bathroom.

What the bloody fuck!” I yelled distastefully. I was covered in grime and God only knows what else, and he decides that for one in his ridiculous life he wants to be a responsible landlord? I smell a can of rotten ass fish. Needless to say I was pissed off. I need me time. Shower time dammit! He, Squidward came in snarking about then pretended to be fixing the toilet and tub. Pssssst. Guess what? He was fucking faking. I was already at 10 but damn. I was seriously seeing red.

Fast forward to night. I’m clean. Bathroom is fucked but oh well. I’m okay. I’m alone again. I’m journaling. Sigh. Tea time. No not tea time. Not now anyway. Guitar time. Lewis Caroll time. I just adore his work. Off I go.

Ciao for now.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

%d bloggers like this: