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Kadie, Stray 🏳️‍⚧️

@hyearna.bsky.social

Arkadia // she/it // 25 // Latex Hyena Enthusiast // Progressive House and Techno Enjoyer 🏠DCA https://furaffinity.net/user/deadarkadia/ https://soundcloud.com/kadie_stray

139 Posts514 Follower477 Folgt
where the oleander grows@nonblnary.bsky.social · last mo.

million dollar sunset (poem, digital collage, july 2026) we bought chocolate orange peels with what change we had in our pockets – they sell all their candy by weight – and you told me that they tasted how oranges smell, and you were right

(the text is colored orange and black on the title, and a gradient of blue in the body text. behind the text is three polaroids, each larger than the last, depicting a trail, people standing in a clearing, and stones on the ground. each polaroid is strangely cut out.) (blurred text) texted earlier. we hadn’t talked in years, probably. i haven’t spoken recently to any of them — i texted (blurred text) when i found that video — but once i dropped out and came out, except for a visit, except for the wedding, except for a blip, i dropped off the face of the earth. they still talk about me, you know. (blurred text) — her contact in my phone is still “(blurred text)” — her punctuation and grammar unfamiliar — as if i was a stranger — told me stories about funny things i’m sure i said, funny things i’m sure i did, not a one of them even scratching at a memory. don’t they know i’m still right there? don’t they know i’m stuck halfway between moss avenue and allegheny county? don’t they know i’m in the room, and I can’t see them, and I can’t hear them, and they can’t see me, and they can’t hear me — has anyone heard from (blurred text)? would anyone tell me? would anyone know to tell me? this is just to say, (blurred text), I think of that room without you, (blurred text), I think of that room without me, (blurred text), and i wonder what parts of me you brought with you when you left.
where the oleander grows@nonblnary.bsky.social · 2mo ago

i only write this because i don’t know how to say i miss when you would send me pictures of punkass furries in love and say “us” (poem, digital collage, june 2026) on the roof, you told me something secret while i wore your coat and imagined never giving it back

a poem with various stars scattered across the page revealing a cloudy sky. the text of the poem is so: i only write this because i don't know how to say i miss when you would send me pictures of punkass furries in love and say "us" so should i compare you to the stars, to the breath of the woods, to the mourning dove's coo, to cracks in mortar springing dandelions and thistles, to a sharp corner, to the moment of quiet when i walk out the back door and my ears adjust to the night tone and i feel it all flooding in in in at once at one at a time at each at its own pace, to a shutter snap, to wild eyes to hair remembering how to curl to crawling across the floor to an i love you like checking for my keys to an i love you like clinging to a cliffside to an i love you like a reminder of my own name to an i love you like an i love you like an i love yo and should you compare me to a sparrow, in a secret language, at 4 am maybe that's us