Freeverse

By Nicki Ladon

'Freeverse' is a collection of free verse poetry pieces ranging from a variety of topics including love, sex, social justice, anxiety, spirituality and so much more. In this collection we see connections within shared topics that highlight the growth taking place as these topics are approached over time. Ultimately, each piece is woven together to create a detailed menagerie of hard truths highlighting what it feels like to set yourself free. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicki Ladon
• Release date: Mar 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201571184

Book preview

Madam Muse

I suppose it’s time I’ve been properly introduced

I am the maverick formally known as Kayla

I was almost named Katie, I was once called Kizzy when I ran track, Special Kay in college, Baby Kay by the fam but more often than not, I am simply just called Kay

None of these are my name

My mama calls me Kayla Nicki and Kay Nichole when she’s pissed

My alter ego is named Megledon, ya know like the biggest fish

My name, however, does not disclaim , though my moniker is messenger

I will not pander prefixes that allude to who I am

I cannot be classified by eyes whose only objective is to objectify my openness

I cannot be defined without my permission nor by puppets packaged with pretense

My existence conspires with disobedience

My initials scoff at the thought of subservience

I am rumored to be a riot

My acronym is an anomaly

I am such a refined collection of art, I can only be described as a gallery

My pronouns are mu-seum

I can only be perceived by love

You cannot pronounce my name properly unless you’ve checked your energy

And don’t dare dream of saying my name in vain

And never without a suffix, put some respect on it

Call me Misses Misfit, Sister Sonnet, Doctor Divine, Professor Prowess, Counselor Controversy, Mother Masculinity, Head Master Manifesto

My name is Madam Muse

Shattered

This is an open letter devoted to no one other than you...

You were like a sister to me.

I never once thought we would be strangers.

It is funny though, how life works, it wasn’t about the boy.

It was about you, just like for him it had nothing to do with liking you and everything to do with hurting me.

I could go on all day about how that was foul play. An interesting way to show me where your loyalty was aligned.

I wasted my illusion of time.

I asked you if you were more loyal to someone you got close to within the last three months, than someone you had called your sister for the last three years.

You said yes ... with no hesitation you left a permanent burning in my chest.

You even let him get in your head so that you could slander me too.

Crazy and over possessed I’ll never forget those words I heard from you.

To add insult to injury, you lied to my face and you didn’t have to.

I know they say love is blind, but you showed me that lust is brain damage, nothing about your allegiance made sense to me.

I’m not even sure if it made sense to you.

But love is blind for sure, because you were my friend and I loved you.

That love prevented me from seeing undertones of jealousy or envy or the red flags that told me that loyalty was very much one sided.

Because you were my friend, I loved you and you broke my heart.

The kind of heartbreak you’ll never be ready for.

I didn’t know it then, so I thought I was angry, I wasn’t, I felt my heart fall out my chest when I heard those words leave your breath.

I could take them from him but not you.

Not from someone I called my friend, my sister.

It took me so long to forgive you and I’m still learning to forgive those qualities in you that rear their head again in different ex friends.

So, in some ways, I’m still angry.

I’m still learning to fully forgive you .

It was never about him.

But I forgive you and I understand and I’m sorry. I’m sorry you couldn’t help but see the world through broken glass.

I’m sorry that I was so easy to damage back then. I’m sorry you were so broken up that you felt the need to shatter me too.

I’m sorry that I almost let you shatter my view on friendship.

I’m sorry you shattered my perception of you.

And likely shattered your own too.

I feel so sorry for all those shattered pieces I still see you sorting through.

A stupid girl

Just a stupid girl crying over a stupid boy.

As much as I want to call, my over-thoughts make me coy.

I leave my phone on ‘do not disturb’ to curb the need for instant gratification.

Yet I still check to see if you called, and my email is my only notification.

I slept the day away, I almost forgot to eat.

And I’ll be drunk every night this week.

Because drinking myself into a stupor beats crying myself to sleep.

Low enough to escape in a glass for every night we don’t speak.

How long can this go on, I’m feeling weak.

I may have to move on from you, it’s looking bleak.

Just me and the moon and my iris is starting to look rainy.

While I’m up thinking about you, you’re sleeping like a baby.

And in the black screen of this note, the dam at my waterline is all I see.

And unfortunately, I don’t even recognize the stupid girl starring back at me.

Fragments all on my sleeve and I’m the one to blame.

Your nonchalance is admirable, I’m a notorious loser of this quiet game.

Days of not speaking, I think I’m going insane.

I guess I’ll take another lonely night and cuddle the pain.

As much as I want to call, my over-thoughts make me coy.

Just a stupid girl drinking myself to sleep over a stupid boy.

The art of seduction

And you cried to me about how you didn’t realize how you’d hurt me.

I remember there was a time when we reconnected and I laid with you on a floor where you slept and watched tv,

I don’t even remember what was on, I was lost in your smile.

And you chased me around the house, and it was pure bliss like we were children again and my heart took a little peek out from the crevices of its stitches to see what the joy was all about.

And then you made a point to seduce me and it reminded me that my submission gave you power and that’s what you craved.

You took a pure heart and serenaded it with your negativity, pierced it with your projected insecurities and doused it in the remains of your pain.

Whenever it was your point to seduce my softened spots, you crawled inside my skin to drain me of my moxie like a faucet that you would readily drink from.

When we were done, you were empowered, and your ego was stroked, and I was broken, and my heart was lost.

Lost in a