katherine-moore - Hello Poetry

Perhaps I saw you when you swallowed the sun and you plagued the place you called home. I was not your home. Your moon crawled slowly over them while they shuddered to think how you made them believe. I never believed in you.

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Mar 27, 2013

Mar 27, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC

katherine-moore

The shift from birds to bees

Perhaps I saw you when you swallowed the sun and you plagued the place you called home. I was not your home. Your moon crawled slowly over them while they shuddered to think how you made them believe. I never believed in you.

10

My shadows had forsaken the grounds, my blood coursed through the leaves. The golden dew never stayed and the crystal frost never came.

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Mar 26, 2013

Mar 26, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC

katherine-moore

Stasis

My shadows had forsaken the grounds, my blood coursed through the leaves. The golden dew never stayed and the crystal frost never came.

5

My swollen tongue has derived over time and the spacing is deliberate. I've acquired a mind cunning and venomous, ****** for its immaculate canyons. "Welcome to the Lottery," they said, the snares and the eyes were plenty. Restraint and conviction aside, any place outside of my throbbing mess of an entity was nowhere for me to be. But this made me the culprit, the messiah, and the victim. The slayer, the lover, the slain, and the fighter. The refugee, the all-knowing, the patron saint, and the living dead. All of whom could digress that I would never escape such an untimely event. There was no response to my oncoming tidings, biddings, and affairs. Although, I can tell you I was found amongst the flowers and the sewer rats.

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Mar 26, 2013

Mar 26, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC

katherine-moore

Tried and prying

My swollen tongue has derived over time and the spacing is deliberate. I've acquired a mind cunning and venomous, ****** for its immaculate canyons. "Welcome to the Lottery," they said, the snares and the eyes were plenty. Restraint and conviction aside, any place outside of my throbbing mess of an entity was nowhere for me to be. But this made me the culprit, the messiah, and the victim. The slayer, the lover, the slain, and the fighter. The refugee, the all-knowing, the patron saint, and the living dead. All of whom could digress that I would never escape such an untimely event. There was no response to my oncoming tidings, biddings, and affairs. Although, I can tell you I was found amongst the flowers and the sewer rats.

10

The transformation yields to no one; Sugar cube swallowing to stop the fury and fire dancing. In your black and white blizzard, there is a frenzy. The gray is for all us hollow, burnt and pricked, suffering the Consequence and stepping on the broken glass. You made a home beneath my skin. I was swollen, but not for long. I lived within the sun, the skin, and the soul, It is just now I found that I've been inside of a tornado the entire time. I say, my saving grace, **** me in and spit me out once more, Asphyxiate and resuscitate. The next, you may be unending, on fire. The flowers may grow again in your footsteps. You grow and the world follows. You put the trail through this forbidden wood. I find myself pacing through its evergreen, ever-lost. Your wind whips and the blades of grass cackle beneath the sun, your rays lash and burn and sting. I still don't feel a thing.

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Mar 25, 2013

Mar 25, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC

katherine-moore

Sugar cube swallowing

The transformation yields to no one; Sugar cube swallowing to stop the fury and fire dancing. In your black and white blizzard, there is a frenzy. The gray is for all us hollow, burnt and pricked, suffering the Consequence and stepping on the broken glass. You made a home beneath my skin. I was swollen, but not for long. I lived within the sun, the skin, and the soul, It is just now I found that I've been inside of a tornado the entire time. I say, my saving grace, **** me in and spit me out once more, Asphyxiate and resuscitate. The next, you may be unending, on fire. The flowers may grow again in your footsteps. You grow and the world follows. You put the trail through this forbidden wood. I find myself pacing through its evergreen, ever-lost. Your wind whips and the blades of grass cackle beneath the sun, your rays lash and burn and sting. I still don't feel a thing.

26

It is not about pulling your weight (not that there is much to pull anyway)  You flourish and then you falter and then you are throwing yourself to the shower floor Always  such a detrimental blinking of eyes (must be a terror to keep them closed)  Chirping and nuzzling does nothing to ease the swelling from my scalp  . Finger tips graze my hair, lightning froze it to my skull. I just hope you can see me. My morpheus, put me to sleep, My internal ricochet.

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Mar 25, 2013

Mar 25, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC

katherine-moore

When you froze

It is not about pulling your weight (not that there is much to pull anyway)  You flourish and then you falter and then you are throwing yourself to the shower floor Always  such a detrimental blinking of eyes (must be a terror to keep them closed)  Chirping and nuzzling does nothing to ease the swelling from my scalp  . Finger tips graze my hair, lightning froze it to my skull. I just hope you can see me. My morpheus, put me to sleep, My internal ricochet.

8

My cup of tea looks into me and tufts of your hair are in my sink but I don't mind.

0

Mar 25, 2013

Mar 25, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC

katherine-moore

Six a.m.

My cup of tea looks into me and tufts of your hair are in my sink but I don't mind.

3