kayla domingo

kayla domingo

i am just a smol girl looking to have her voice heard in this huge world. 

  • kayla domingo
    Published 4 months ago
    Shattered

    Shattered

    The thick cold air hits me hard as my body trembles. I was buried beneath many blankets before my body decided to abruptly sit up. Slowly my head turns to glance over at my clock, and it’s still only a few hours after midnight. With a sigh I slip out of bed, placing my feet into my duck slippers. With each movement I take there is a soft quack! beneath each footstep. Drowsily my body manages to find its way to the kitchen through the dark empty halls of this loft. This happened to become a normal occurrence within my daily routine. Wake up at uncanny hours from dreams of him only to continue on, and start my day in hopes it would get better. It’s only been a week, and somehow I’ve managed to finish some work. Yet still the pit of my stomach drops with each and every thought reminding me of him.
  • kayla domingo
    Published 4 months ago
    First Time

    First Time

    I lean back into your chest as you pull me closer towards you. We're lying on the couch and I'm between your legs flipping through a book, while you watch something on Netflix. Your chin rests on the top of my head so you can see the screen on your laptop. Being sheltered between your arms has always brought me comfort, and I'd hate to be apart from them. As I read, my free hand is holding your left, as I fiddle with the ring you never seem to take off. That same thick black band that looks like obsidian wrapped around your pointer finger that I've never seen you without. Along with that, your right hand plays with my hair, your fingers gently swirling it around. There is comfort lying here, and being encased in the scent of one of your hoodies that I always wear when I come over. You in your simple dark tee and grey sweats hanging loosely just below your hips. If I could spend every night like this, it would be a dream come true.
  • kayla domingo
    Published 4 months ago
    People Like Them

    People Like Them

    Eyes; the key to see within another person’s soul. Maybe that’s why theirs are so dark and void of life. No joy sifts within them, only dull anger and rage. Pity should not be felt for them. They know exactly what their soul truly is. Within that darkness blows a cold wind willing to strike whatever is in their path. Scary noises can be heard as well in order to frighten all from entering. No one should ever look into their eyes; they don’t want anyone to know how sad their soul truly is.
  • kayla domingo
    Published 5 months ago
    Injustice

    Injustice

    That white man was given more privileges at work because he was deemed much more superior than that person of colour. A little girl isn’t allowed to participate in that game of soccer with the boys in her class because she isn’t strong enough. She isn’t allowed to wear make up because scientifically her genitals identify her as male.