Co-Creator Feature

I’ve always had an affinity for reading and writing. I heard that every good writer is also a good reader. If that’s true, then I’m in luck. I was always the odd kid walking down the hallway while reading a book... which may also explain my clumsiness… or had book(s) hidden in various places around the house, just in case I had a spare minute while I was supposed to be doing chores. Nothing has really changed all that much. My writing started in much the same way. Here and there, scribbled into notebooks, starting when I was younger. With the start of my first novel when I was 18. It was almost an escape from the real world at a time in my life where I needed it most. Eventually life got in the way and I put down the novel for over 10 years, picking it back up in my early 30’s and finishing it. Poetry is my ‘magazine writing.’ When I have an emotion or an idea and I have to get it on paper but didn’t have time to work it into a book, it came out as a song or a poem. That makes this endeavor with Mel even more special. It’s something that we both love to write and read, and we get to help build others up while also getting some wonderful things to read. Best of both worlds!

I have two poetry collections out currently – This is 2020 (a beautifully biased view of the bad and good from 2020 and where we need to find improvements as a human race) and Their Footsteps (a collection of poems and photographs that have been created/taken while traveling). These are for sale along with other small gifts on my website at KassieJRunyan.com

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You stand there

staring at the eyes

that look a bit like like yours

as they stare back at you.

Do you still recognize their hue?

And the slant of the lids?

The wrinkles have grown deeper.

There is sadness there;

or is it wisdom?

You haven’t made the world better.

Not like you promised.

There’s still time

but the eyes look doubtful

and the lines give away the years.


You aren’t yet dead.

Recognition grows in the eyes

of the man staring back at you

as you stand up straighter

reminded that the change you promised;

it starts with you.

Wrinkles be damned.

There’s still time

to make a change.

The eyes grow bright

and for the first time

in a long time

you recognize the man in the mirror

before turning to the door

to meet the day.


They sit around the fire

as it burns to ash

the light dimming

but shining in the eyes

of the people sitting around her

strangers until tonight

a finger strums a guitar

and they begin to sing

in a rhythm they all seem to know

as they sing into the


strangers before tonight

the red and orange fall

replaced by stars

as the strangers still sing

as one


help would

be emptied

by others

taken and pushed

lopsided in anger

now friends drift further

and enemies shout

from inside

my own head

they tap



against my skull

trying to get out

into the world

shouting and snarling

the friends

used to quiet them

hush them into


those friends now gone

and the voices run wild

in charge of the narrative

clenching my teeth

and squeezing my eyes

to keep the voices inside

i breathe in

and out

and the voices

start to calm

to only a dull


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