KatM - Hello Poetry

Glimps of reciprocity Dangling in my mind Holding tight on this rope Burning up my hands I'll take it-- the pain of hope Is a greater consequence To consume than to push Everything else away

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Apr 8

Apr 8, 2026 at 12:10 PM UTC

The Hurt of Hope

Glimps of reciprocity Dangling in my mind Holding tight on this rope Burning up my hands I'll take it-- the pain of hope Is a greater consequence To consume than to push Everything else away

8

All I can do is think about how much I love you. You were like an oxygen tank delivered to me at the peak of a mountain. Otherwise trapped in an altitude I was never meant to survive. Every day without you, The air grows thinner and breathing becomes a burden. I don’t want to lose you only to find you again later. I want to find you inside the pain I feel now, not after it fades into quiet background noise. Dreaming of our future— Both in happiness and hardship I’m homesick like never before. I didn’t know you could be homesick for a person, but when someone becomes the family you choose, when home becomes a person, distance feels unbearable. How do you keep moving without your purpose? The person who inspires you to be the best version of yourself, who makes the mundane feel possible— even adventurous. A catalyst for courage, for the capacity to face life Even when the air begins to thin

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Mar 6

Mar 6, 2026 at 2:31 PM UTC

Give Me Oxygen

All I can do is think about how much I love you. You were like an oxygen tank delivered to me at the peak of a mountain. Otherwise trapped in an altitude I was never meant to survive. Every day without you, The air grows thinner and breathing becomes a burden. I don’t want to lose you only to find you again later. I want to find you inside the pain I feel now, not after it fades into quiet background noise. Dreaming of our future— Both in happiness and hardship I’m homesick like never before. I didn’t know you could be homesick for a person, but when someone becomes the family you choose, when home becomes a person, distance feels unbearable. How do you keep moving without your purpose? The person who inspires you to be the best version of yourself, who makes the mundane feel possible— even adventurous. A catalyst for courage, for the capacity to face life Even when the air begins to thin

28

I hold her tight and carry her with my heart For she is a translator for the love I carry And cannot share directly Curated activity and words of wisdom Flow from my lips and out of hers So that when you can't hear me, you can hear her Shared is the innocent existence of uncertain joy Appreciated by both the observer and the wonderer Captured in the revitalization of love across space

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Feb 15

Feb 15, 2026 at 1:03 PM UTC

Loretta

I hold her tight and carry her with my heart For she is a translator for the love I carry And cannot share directly Curated activity and words of wisdom Flow from my lips and out of hers So that when you can't hear me, you can hear her Shared is the innocent existence of uncertain joy Appreciated by both the observer and the wonderer Captured in the revitalization of love across space

9

Pounding, pumping, plumped up Beating into a tightened chest The tension isn't just cardiac in nature Smooth muscles rough-house Through the feeling of overexertion Empty stomach sits so small Bubbling with nausea and unease A drying mouth ssucks closed Vision doubled and halved Dimwitted in the absence of support Cloudy voices circle quietly Building up into messy noise Looping soundtracks add structure Otherwise missing Verging on the precipice of Serge

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Dec 7, 2025

Dec 7, 2025 at 5:05 PM UTC

Physical Anticipation

Pounding, pumping, plumped up Beating into a tightened chest The tension isn't just cardiac in nature Smooth muscles rough-house Through the feeling of overexertion Empty stomach sits so small Bubbling with nausea and unease A drying mouth ssucks closed Vision doubled and halved Dimwitted in the absence of support Cloudy voices circle quietly Building up into messy noise Looping soundtracks add structure Otherwise missing Verging on the precipice of Serge

15

A cornucopia of wanderlust rushes through your heart And out comes the sign of a daisy-covered altar Bleaching the wind beneath your limestone arches Giving rise to the spindling spider unburdening its web Let yourself be cuddled within the feral carnage Of a crawling lullaby seizing the perfection Only crafted by a darkened rainy day prolonged By the flutter of a butterfly's wing in the night A twilt knighted fighter emerges through power Of outdated appendages, ignorant and stumbling Into the daytime needed to cleanse the confusion Of his or her worship in the picture of a castle As if it is her, as if it him, as if it is only an idea of reality Plastered across the pages of another digital escapade Landing in the marshes that make up your life now If only you could be found in that messy forge

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Aug 30, 2025

Aug 30, 2025 at 12:29 PM UTC

Into the Silver-Coated Pages of an Icon

A cornucopia of wanderlust rushes through your heart And out comes the sign of a daisy-covered altar Bleaching the wind beneath your limestone arches Giving rise to the spindling spider unburdening its web Let yourself be cuddled within the feral carnage Of a crawling lullaby seizing the perfection Only crafted by a darkened rainy day prolonged By the flutter of a butterfly's wing in the night A twilt knighted fighter emerges through power Of outdated appendages, ignorant and stumbling Into the daytime needed to cleanse the confusion Of his or her worship in the picture of a castle As if it is her, as if it him, as if it is only an idea of reality Plastered across the pages of another digital escapade Landing in the marshes that make up your life now If only you could be found in that messy forge

16

I yearn for something long gone in the depths of the future; Not able to place a finger on its familiarity. Discovering what is already known Can be a clarifying process of redundancy. When a step forward feels like a tumble backward Toward the inevitable direction of it all. When a puzzle forms around me I stand there, inert. The challenge beckons me further. It calls me closer, Etching itself deeper into my path. Smiling at the fantasy of completion on the other side, A field of emotional mishaps rains down before me.

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Apr 16, 2025

Apr 16, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC

The Direction of Yearning

I yearn for something long gone in the depths of the future; Not able to place a finger on its familiarity. Discovering what is already known Can be a clarifying process of redundancy. When a step forward feels like a tumble backward Toward the inevitable direction of it all. When a puzzle forms around me I stand there, inert. The challenge beckons me further. It calls me closer, Etching itself deeper into my path. Smiling at the fantasy of completion on the other side, A field of emotional mishaps rains down before me.

12

Oh, my darling lover, My thoughts are always stitched with your image You live in the quiet corners of my mind I can’t seem to think without thinking of you I find myself wanting all your time— To see you in every form, every being, every unguarded glance— And for you to see me from every angle, To study one another like a language only we speak. I crave your touch like a favorite song I never tire of I picture myself wrapped up in your arms, never straying from their comfort. The way my hands slip so naturally into yours— How you trace their lines without even thinking, Pressing kisses into them like they’re precious— You make me feel treasured, wanted, and marveled When your fingers slide through my hair, I swear I can smell your love in the air. I remember kissing you in your car—how you held me, How you guided me with care and hunger both, How I trusted you so quickly, How you touched me like I was something sacred. And still, I find myself constantly craving that feeling. You made me feel desired in ways I didn’t know I could be. Even the fierceness of your touch—the way you held my neck, the way your palm met my cheek, the way you touched me with love I felt it. I believed you. I believe you. And I wanted it. I want you. Darling, I want to be close to you in ways no one else could ever reach. Thinking of you sends shivers through my body You are something wild and consuming; who knows what you want I wonder how you’ll handle me As you shape me to your needs and I shape you to mine

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Apr 7, 2025

Apr 7, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC

Wanting

Oh, my darling lover, My thoughts are always stitched with your image You live in the quiet corners of my mind I can’t seem to think without thinking of you I find myself wanting all your time— To see you in every form, every being, every unguarded glance— And for you to see me from every angle, To study one another like a language only we speak. I crave your touch like a favorite song I never tire of I picture myself wrapped up in your arms, never straying from their comfort. The way my hands slip so naturally into yours— How you trace their lines without even thinking, Pressing kisses into them like they’re precious— You make me feel treasured, wanted, and marveled When your fingers slide through my hair, I swear I can smell your love in the air. I remember kissing you in your car—how you held me, How you guided me with care and hunger both, How I trusted you so quickly, How you touched me like I was something sacred. And still, I find myself constantly craving that feeling. You made me feel desired in ways I didn’t know I could be. Even the fierceness of your touch—the way you held my neck, the way your palm met my cheek, the way you touched me with love I felt it. I believed you. I believe you. And I wanted it. I want you. Darling, I want to be close to you in ways no one else could ever reach. Thinking of you sends shivers through my body You are something wild and consuming; who knows what you want I wonder how you’ll handle me As you shape me to your needs and I shape you to mine

31

Bandits in the night Rumbling through pedestrian leftovers Fluffy tails and primed noses Hallucinations of a well-meaning friend Scurrying across the trails Gone like a ghost Jump against the walls. Like no one’s watching Enjoying the embrace of friendship

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Apr 2, 2025

Apr 2, 2025 at 11:14 AM UTC

Raccoons Are a Girl's Best Friend

Bandits in the night Rumbling through pedestrian leftovers Fluffy tails and primed noses Hallucinations of a well-meaning friend Scurrying across the trails Gone like a ghost Jump against the walls. Like no one’s watching Enjoying the embrace of friendship

9

Do you know what it’s like To be caged by your brain A place supposed to be free To be who you are Graced with heaven or hell To be changed by so little Torment yourself wholly To be what is right It doesn't stop at your mind To be in rambling circles Losing your breath To be at the mercy of fear Shaking ever so carefully To be seen merely as cold Digging into Earth you call skin To be laced with liquid iron

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Mar 25, 2025

Mar 25, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC

To Be at Mercy

Do you know what it’s like To be caged by your brain A place supposed to be free To be who you are Graced with heaven or hell To be changed by so little Torment yourself wholly To be what is right It doesn't stop at your mind To be in rambling circles Losing your breath To be at the mercy of fear Shaking ever so carefully To be seen merely as cold Digging into Earth you call skin To be laced with liquid iron

16

Aching to sink further into the dirt Into the grave, you built while pacing back and forth Manifesting the prophecies you work so hard to avoid Wrapped up in soiled stories of what could be, You linger on the branches of a willow’s weep Swinging from each somber lullaby into feathers that soar Into the minds covered in clouds resting on the top of the world Clarity is misguided when there’s more fun to be had amid the fog Picking at the scab you know will bleed You crave to reopen the wounds you know not to be ready Eager for a dance against Time, He laughs at your foolish attempts to hurry

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Mar 24, 2025

Mar 24, 2025 at 9:19 PM UTC

Weaving a Worry

Aching to sink further into the dirt Into the grave, you built while pacing back and forth Manifesting the prophecies you work so hard to avoid Wrapped up in soiled stories of what could be, You linger on the branches of a willow’s weep Swinging from each somber lullaby into feathers that soar Into the minds covered in clouds resting on the top of the world Clarity is misguided when there’s more fun to be had amid the fog Picking at the scab you know will bleed You crave to reopen the wounds you know not to be ready Eager for a dance against Time, He laughs at your foolish attempts to hurry

12