kait-johns - Hello Poetry

And if my day were to end too heavily without your warmth settle into; If I were to crack and fade into ash and be carried by the wind To your home… I know your window would be open And piecing myself back together Wouldn’t be so hard.

0

Jan 16, 2025

Jan 16, 2025 at 9:37 PM UTC

And If

And if my day were to end too heavily without your warmth settle into; If I were to crack and fade into ash and be carried by the wind To your home… I know your window would be open And piecing myself back together Wouldn’t be so hard.

8

I used to cry at the thought of the hurt you put her through. Now, I am abhorrent to the thought of putting her through that again. I now mourn the loss of the pain; the death of the passion. No matter how visceral the feeling or how thick the air became; she begged the warmth in her throat to withdraw to her stomach. The fire laid in wait there, already crackling. No amount of teardrops could fizzle the burning desire to be understood harder… or deeper… or despite. I recognize exactly where she had been; so utterly gone with only my witness account of where she had been. Since the dust has settled all that remains is a vast and empty dwelling littered with her sheddings. The pain had grown inside her, morphing and contorting her familiarity into something new. Something seemingly broken.

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Dec 29, 2024

Dec 29, 2024 at 11:30 AM UTC

The Past That Still Haunts

I used to cry at the thought of the hurt you put her through. Now, I am abhorrent to the thought of putting her through that again. I now mourn the loss of the pain; the death of the passion. No matter how visceral the feeling or how thick the air became; she begged the warmth in her throat to withdraw to her stomach. The fire laid in wait there, already crackling. No amount of teardrops could fizzle the burning desire to be understood harder… or deeper… or despite. I recognize exactly where she had been; so utterly gone with only my witness account of where she had been. Since the dust has settled all that remains is a vast and empty dwelling littered with her sheddings. The pain had grown inside her, morphing and contorting her familiarity into something new. Something seemingly broken.

13

What an upsetting time of night to rid myself of all the memories I’ve locked safely away in my closet.

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Dec 16, 2024

Dec 16, 2024 at 5:01 PM UTC

1:45am

What an upsetting time of night to rid myself of all the memories I’ve locked safely away in my closet.

3

The day was done and the windows slid open; almost on their own. As if they needed no more convincing other than a familiar nudge in the side. I could hear the clouds sighing in relief after their week-long downpour. I sighed along with them. Oh, how exhausted we all are.

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Dec 16, 2024

Dec 16, 2024 at 4:53 PM UTC

The Dew and the Grass are Lovers

The day was done and the windows slid open; almost on their own. As if they needed no more convincing other than a familiar nudge in the side. I could hear the clouds sighing in relief after their week-long downpour. I sighed along with them. Oh, how exhausted we all are.

5