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Jan 2021 · 208
1/25/2021 "memory"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
I like to think that my body
has forgotten you.
and how your hands fit
perfectly in the curve of my waist,
how you kissed my neck,
and right between my shoulder blades,
how you used to pick me up
and I'd wrap my legs around you,
how you whispered "i love you"
and my name sounded sacred on your tongue.
How you squeezed my hand rhythmically,
and I would make a game of copying it back.
How you showed me, in every way,
that I was your definition of perfect.
How you sang that I was the only girl
who keeps your planet green.
but it hasn't.
My body, my waist, my neck.
My heart, my mind, my soul.
I haven't forgotten
how it felt,
when you loved me.
sometimes it feels like I'll never forget how his body felt on mine.
Jan 2021 · 188
1/25/2021 "Baird"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
God your name
feels so foreign to write
those five letters once
told me what I thought my future would be.

I speak it as infrequently as possible,
nearly whispering it when I must.
As if, somehow, if I speak it too loudly,
I'll lose myself in it all over again.

The soap in my shower smells like you,
so I bought my own.
I was left wondering what you were doing,
at 4:36pm on a Sunday afternoon.

You favorite color appears
in the strangest places, unexpected.
I know it should go unnoticed,
why did you have to love such a bright color?

my body almost forgets what it feels like
to be loved by you
my lips almost forget the taste of you
and then it all rushes back
i was brave, i titled this poem with his name, he isn't on this site anyway, and i doubt anyone who knows him is, either. besides me, anyways, not that i really know him anymore after all
Jan 2021 · 177
1/24/2021
Katie Miller Jan 2021
i don't shatter anymore.
when i miss you,
i ache.
Jan 2021 · 141
1/24/2021 "clear skies"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
I am a writer, a poet.
thought sometimes,
the right words,
are as abundant as clouds
on a perfect summer day
Jan 2021 · 197
1/24/2021
Katie Miller Jan 2021
no matter how I deny it
there are some days
that I just need you
your arms, your face, your lips
to tell me that I'm strong
and that you believe in me
Jan 2021 · 132
1/24/2021
Katie Miller Jan 2021
i speak in
hyperboles and metaphors
i guess that's why
it's so easy to break my heart
the way i care is too
figuratively literal
Jan 2021 · 207
1/24/2021 "lullaby"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
some days
my exhaustion ruins deeper
than the very middle of my bones
and it's difficult
to remember how
to sing myself
to sleep
Jan 2021 · 88
1/23/2021 "neverending"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
i dont have
much poetry in me today
just a deep exhaustion
a need to rest
and hope that someday
i may
Jan 2021 · 184
1/22/2021 "realizations"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
realizing that my first love
will not be my last
has been the most painful and beautiful experience
i've ever gone through
Jan 2021 · 178
1/22/2021 "return"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
i will never
let you back in
or so i say
the truth is
no matter how much
i've grown stronger
and changed for the better
if you really wanted to
your curly hair
and silver fire eyes
could probably
steal
my
heart
right back
as if you had never
broken it 3 times over
in the first place
Jan 2021 · 73
1/22/2021 "poetry enough"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
i love myself
isn't that poetry
enough?
Jan 2021 · 128
1/21/2021 "my own"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
**** him
i wanna take
my own breath away
Jan 2021 · 129
1/21/2021 "self-love"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
I spent too much time
wondering if he still loved me
That I forgot to ask
if I still did
Katie Miller Jan 2021
what a relief it is
to see a woman
who wears my favorite shoes
walk into the office
of Madame Vice President
Katie Miller Jan 2021
I was 13 years old
One month and one day away from 14.
It was January 20, 2017.
I sat one seat to the right
of center stage center for the show
in my social studies class
My teacher sat on the left
sitting on a corner of her desk
We all looked up to the right towards the TV
I could see the tears in my teacher's eyes
I could feel them in mine.
That year we had learned about
George Washington, Alexander Hamilton
The Revolution
And somewhere, in that 13, almost 14, year old belly,
a revolution was stirring
and I became the opinionated girl in school
no one could shut me up
I am 17
One month and one day away from 18
I watched today, exactly four years later
Exactly 2 weeks after an attempted coup
Exactly 1 week after a second impeachment
tears welled in my eyes
for another reason
the end of an era,
the beginning of a new one,
The US Capitol getting it's color back
people seemed to breathe
for the first time in 4 years
I watched in awe
and what a relief it will be
to wake up tomorrow
in a brighter country.
knowing that democracy won
and that 13-
almost 14-
year old me,
would be beaming
the inauguration of donald trump vs the inauguration of joe biden
Jan 2021 · 80
1/13/2021
Katie Miller Jan 2021
the finding of myself:
country music and gold jewelry
the color yellow, and God
Katie Miller Jan 2021
your body was built
for many more
torrential downpours
than the rainstorms
you've endured
-dance in the rain
Jan 2021 · 130
1/8/2021 "lovey"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
tell me, lovey:
do you miss me?
don't lie.
I know you too well,
to be ignorant,
to your signs of untruthfulness
-i knew you better than myself
Jan 2021 · 120
1/8/2021
Katie Miller Jan 2021
My biggest fear,
is that you will come back
on a day that I am too weak
to say no
Katie Miller Jan 2021
you felt
as if you were
nothing,
but look at you know...
you are everything, darling
you are everything
you've ever dreamt of being
building back after a heartbreak
Jan 2021 · 83
1/7/2021 "Release"
Katie Miller Jan 2021
beautiful girl,
relax your shoulders
unclench your fists.
let this one go
written on 1/7/2021 Lots of love as always -KPM
Jan 2021 · 79
Picture Perfect Puzzle
Katie Miller Jan 2021
We are a picture perfect puzzle
The picture perfect puzzle pieces
Fit from every angle
We don't have to try to make the picture perfect
Jan 2021 · 265
Hello Again
Katie Miller Jan 2021
Well it has been
A while
And I'm still writing
Just haven't been able
To bring my heart
To admit what I'm actually feeling
Want to be the stronger part of me
And forget the side that cries
And breaks
And shatters and aches
But still
I live and I write
Mostly on paper
Revisiting a page from when I was still loved
And in love
But I'm here now
To admit what I'm doing
What I felt
How I feel
And how I fell
And picked myself back up again
So stay and listen
And I'll show you
What I've been up to
I haven't written on Hello Poetry in over a year. And so so much has happened. Personally, romantically, worldly, everything. So I decided to come back, I think about Hello Poetry sometimes, they strength and support it gave me. And so I'm back. Let's see what happens when I post some thing's I've written recently. Please stay, I could really use your feedback. Lots of love, as always... -KPM
May 2019 · 214
Do You?
Katie Miller May 2019
I keep getting this feeling
That I'm just not enough
You say you love me
But, tell me, do you?
May 2019 · 238
Enough
Katie Miller May 2019
I just want to be good enough
Why is that so much to ask?
I just want to be good enough
Good enough for my parents
Grades and an older sister and a daughter
Even when I try my motivations is low
I just want to be good enough
Good enough for my boyfriend
Loving and caring and perfect
And I love him so much but I'm not enough
I just want to be good enough
Good enough for my friends
Honest and happy and good all the time
I want to be there for them but I can't
I just want to be good enough
Not the best
Not perfect
I just want to be good enough
May 2019 · 157
Someday
Katie Miller May 2019
I love when you tell me to imagine
And describe a future with no names
A woman and a man and a child
Stumbling in her first step tumbles
You ask me who they are
Those people holding her up
But I never answer your question
Until later in the hallway I look in your eyes
And say "I hope that is us someday"
May 23
May 2019 · 163
Just enough
Katie Miller May 2019
I've written so many words
To you
About you
Around you
Yet nothing seems  enough
To show you
To love you
To tell you
Just how much I care
May 2019 · 147
Theater 12
Katie Miller May 2019
Theater 12
Holds secrets unknown
Down the hall
Last door on the left
An unwatched movie shown to be seen
But never payed attention to
Theater 12
Block out the words
And be there, with them
Theater 12
...nuthin'
Katie Miller May 2019
Clumsy Love

It was clumsy the day they first met

A hot day in New York City, photography at a baseball game, purple hair, and overpriced lemonade. There was a 15 year-old girl and her friend, and there was a slight fangirl moment when meeting a 17 year old boy who was famous school-wide for his singing and acting. There was an exchange of names, a photograph, and a friendship.

It was clumsy the second day, too.

Persistently bought coffee from the little round shop with way too many sugar packets, a misguided museum employee, too much root beer, and pigeons that were startled by the boy yelling “44!”

The third day was no less clumsy.

There was a broadway show in Shubert Alley, an unknown desire, and a sleepless night for the boy, though the girl remained ignorant of his new-found crush. If only the girl knew that a year from now, a promposal would be reenacted, a first kiss would be given and taken, and “I love you” would be said. If only the boy knew that his “immature” desire would be replaced with love, and passion, and, well, her. If only they knew what would happen in the next 365 days.

It was clumsy that one night in the pool.

A sticky, humid heat in the air, string lights hung over head, four friends swimming in the girls pool, stars in the sky, and the boy, throwing the girl into the pool simply because he could. The girl loved him then, though she wouldn’t allow herself to think about it, so they remained as they were: friends.

It was clumsy that day in Hershey Park.

There were sharp turn on the Wild Mouse, a stranger met and then lost again, and the boy, who kept telling the girl of other boys who were staring at her. Maybe it was his secret way of telling her that he thinks she’s beautiful, but she never knew.

It was clumsy in the movie theater.

There was crab rangoon and smuggled sushi, an 11:00 movie about superheroes, and a returned wish to hold a girl’s hand, though the girl, somehow, remained oblivious still.

It was clumsy in September and November.

There was a girl with a broken heart, betrayal from the friends from New York, a different boy who was never meant to be, and the boy who was meant to be, listening to every word, watching every tear, and slowly, unknowingly, fixing her heart. Through three hourlong video calls, text messages, and abandoned lunch periods he loved her still, though he remained the friend that he knew she needed.

It was clumsy in December.

There was a realization of how much he meant to her, a lot of poems, a revelation of jealousy of the girl who was flirting with him, and a lot of tears. There was a still 15 year old girl and a now 18 year old boy, and she allowed herself to fall, in the clumsiest way possible, into him.

If was clumsy on Valentine's day.

There was a singing Valentine, as well as one with a bad pun, there was a comparison to a sister, there was a"Crazy Little Thing Called Love" and there was a hug. A question was asked that day "Does he like her?", But was disregarded with a shrug "He said she was like a sister, so I guess not". It stung her her heart just a little, but she accepted the hit that was unintentionally given. And clumsily, once again, she laughed and smiled, after all, he and to her.

If was clumsy at the cabaret Cafe.

There was some pie and ice cream, a song sung to her, though she only wished he meant it that way, a slippery cafeteria for and tights, a confession, and two questions. The confession being to him, that she was happy to know him, a question to her, does she like him, to which she lied "no", and when the question was returned, the boy avoided an answer when the girl returned a question.

It was clumsy the Monday afterwards.

It was clumsy when he wouldn't meet her eyes. She still can't explain how much that hurt her, it stabbed at her heart and caught in her throat. After all: her best friend didn't even want to look at her. Her heart was slippery and clumsy as it sunk towards her stomach. There were tears during first period, and a text after school from the girl who apologized for lying because she liked him after all, and was too afraid of rejection to tell him before, yet no confirmation came from him.

It was clumsy on March 3rd.

There were poems, missing heart beats, and grammar mistakes. There was relief and there was fear. There was nervousness for the next day, knees shaking, heart racing as she turned every corner, waiting to see his face.

It was clumsy on March 16th.

When she fell to the ground. There are six pink roses, a stuffed turtle named Cleopatra, and a PowerPoint slide with a pun. There was an expectation he had wished to live up to and there was success. She fell to the ground and feel into his arms and they both cried of happiness and shock.

It was clumsy on March 18th.

There were silent cellos, empty risers, a dark room and racing heartbeats. There were seven kisses before saying goodbye, they were her first. There were two definitions of perfect, coincidentally, there were also two names. There was a broken water bottle and a boy in a parking lot. There was a girl, now sixteen, and a boy, now eighteen, and they were talking in love in the dark.

It was clumsy on April 3rd.

There was a stairwell, a thought, a confession, and an "I love you" returned in the same breath of air held between them.

It was clumsy in the hammock.

There was an unbalanced swaying, a list of questions and answers, and a metaphor about falling.

It was clumsy at lunch.

There was an attempted hug, an accidental tackle, and a girl who tripped over her own feet.

It was clumsy yesterday, it is clumsy today, and it will be clumsy tomorrow.

There was New York City, coffee, Broadway in Shubert Alley, root beer, Hershey Park and movie theaters. There was a broken heart, video calls, realizations, poems, songs, and apple pie with ice cream. There were grammar mistakes, pink roses, turtles, teddy bears, silent cellos, risers, absent heartbeats, and stairwells. There was love unreturned from fear of rejection born from the roots of doubt. And then, there was love, and memories, and secrets. And they became them, and "us" was their new favorite word.
May 2019 · 166
Lemon Ginger Tea
Katie Miller May 2019
There's something about the way
Lemon ginger tea
Plays on my tongue and lips
With spice and sweetness
That reminds me of your kiss
May 2019 · 156
I Love You Like
Katie Miller May 2019
I love you like, I just, I love you
I love you like the sunrise
A new light every morning playing on my eyes
Shimmering cliches that make sense in the stars
The faded grey-black of the sky to a brilliant pink-blue
I love you like the ocean
The beauty that rides in the translucent waves
Sea-foam stories told by the salt-stained wind
The lurking threat of the unknown below I love you still
I love you like an abandoned pirate ship
A ghost town of old treasures forgotten of and found again
The true lost and found of secrets, memories, and stories
A treasure map that holds traps to capture my breath
I love you like a butterfly garden
The intensely building beauty that balances on their wings
And the delicate migration across my eyelids
That in it's own beautiful way, is terrifying
I love you like
A butterfly garden that stands upon an abandoned pirate ship
In a wave-filled ocean at sunrise
I love you like everything beautiful
And everything terrifying
I love you like you love me
Apr 2019 · 1.2k
Periodic Table
Katie Miller Apr 2019
You are a boy of metal
One who doesn't recognize his own value
Precious metals all the same
Their sum only equals your eyes
And neglects the rest of everything you are
Pure silver ringed along your pupils
And gold dancing across the edges
Gallium words melt my heart
This periodic table of you
Guess you could say this boy and I have some... chemistry......
Apr 2019 · 231
I Love You
Katie Miller Apr 2019
"I love you"
You breath it out between kisses
And I breath it in as I sigh the same words
"I love you"
Returning every word you say to me
Sometimes I try to say
"I love you" first
Before you get the chance
Just to show you how much
"I love you"
Play with my hair before settling on my cheek
Shifting your focus to my eyes, which are focused,always, on you
"I love you"
I whisper the words I've never said in this way
And you smile, one side more than the other
"I love you"
And my heart has melted into you
As you hold me closer still
"I love you"
Apr 2019 · 243
Untitled
Katie Miller Apr 2019
We are untitled
Like a song not yet composed
With half a verse still hanging
An unfinished rhythm of rhyme
A note not yet held to it's potential
Lyrics to which an unheard song is sung
A song that hasn't been heard
Our love is untitled
Apr 2019 · 308
Fallen First
Katie Miller Apr 2019
We sat on the hammock for hours
And I laughed so hard I fell off
And as the balance was thrown to your side
You looked at me and said simply "I've fallen"

And I smiled at you as I sat on the ground
So I looked at your star-strung smile
And said to you with a genuine smile
I looked up and agreed: "Me too"

You looked at me once again
And with the universe in your eyes
You said to me as I sat on the ground
"But didn't I fall first?"
Apr 2019 · 231
In Every Dream
Katie Miller Apr 2019
Whenever I picture him
He's laughing
And it hurts me beyond belief
That he ever does anything but that
Apr 2019 · 967
Catch
Katie Miller Apr 2019
You buy me six pink roses
When I buy you a red carnation
I chase the butterflies around as they go to my stomach
Stopping this frantic migration
You take my breath, I catch that, too
My own lungs can't even stand as a foundation
And when I am falling
Your hugs are a comforting sensation
And as I sit here in wonder
I come across a warm revelation
That I'm always playing catch
With you
Apr 2019 · 130
Enchanted Moss
Katie Miller Apr 2019
Someone asked me
How I would describe
Your eyes
I looked at them
Without missing a beat
And said
"Enchanted moss
The kind of moss you would find in a fairy tale
The kind of moss that shimmers with gold and silver
The kind of moss that a fairy lives in once upon a time"
They looked at me with confusion
And they looked at me
Without missing a beat
And said
"Why would you compare them to dirt?
Just something you find on the ground
In a ***** forest of trees and branches?"
And so
Once again
Without missing a beat
I said to them
"Then I guess
you don't understand
How much I love him"
Apr 2019 · 180
To Live
Katie Miller Apr 2019
You kiss me
Hands in my back pockets
Lips pressed against mine in retaliation
To my words that I use as weapons against myself
You silence the gun that I point at my own heart
You dull the blade that I so crave to touch
You untie the noose that I have tied long ago
You empty the pill bottle I could swallow whole
You give me a reason to push through this moment
You give me a reason to get through the pain
You give me a reason to smile, to laugh, to love once again
You
Give me a reason
To live
Apr 2019 · 84
Not a Cliche Poem
Katie Miller Apr 2019
I'm not going to write a cliche poem,
But if I was going to, I would write about,
The way your eyes hold undiscovered galaxies
That slant in a purple-blue haze over the mountains
Of which, the silhouettes dance in the horizon
And how your eyes twinkle with distant stars
That make up the constellations that spell out your name
The name that echoes through the universe and bounces back unmatched
This isn't a cliche love poem,
But if it was, the next stanza would be devoted to
The way your words flow like rivers over your lips
And spill out like a flash flood full of meaning
That drowns my doubts and fears and washes away my insecurities
And how your sentences crash into the world like a wave
As they recede back into the ocean and leave something new
While the current swirls around and changes the tides plans
This poem isn't filled with cliche metaphors,
But if it was, then I would say that
Everything you do steadies my racing heart
Your kiss lifts me up into the sky yet you hold to the ground
You hug me tighter when you know I need it
Even when I don't know that I need a hug you somehow do
Your arms lift the world from my shoulders
Even though you have a galaxy upon yours
Your hugs leave me warm with a cold spot
Of your memory wrapped around me
This is not a cliche poem
Except for the fact that it is after all
Katie Miller Apr 2019
I see pictures of places I can only dream of traveling to
Of the milky way across the mountains
Slanted purple blue rings that run across the stars like rivers
The stars like rocks intermediately scattered between the colors
Of pink sunrises with gold flecks of sunshine
And dark blue sunsets with silver reminders of the stars
Mountain cut-outs of a silhouetted journey
The complete silence of our own universe
My whispers muted by your chest as you hold me
And just as no one knows how many stars are in the sky,
I can never quite express how much I love you
I count the colors within your eyes but get lost every time
The invisible rings of Jupiter that dance along your pupils
There are too many layers of jagged lines to keep track of
The footprints on the moon will be there for 100 million years
But your hand print on my cheek will linger longer
We wrote our own adventures between the constellations
Connect the stars and even the big dipper cannot contain my heart
Wandering through the astrological maps of us within your eyes
Your palms hold the moon and the earth
Your eyes have the fiery dance of the sun
Your words have the gravity of a black hole
That I fall into without a stumbling doubt
We whisper true nothings into the night
And our breath clouds into our own nebulas
That form the stars we point at in the dark sky
And dream of being part of them as we laugh into the air
And yours shines brighter than the moon above us
And as the sun lifts and the moon sinks down
We tell each other the secrets we only speak in our dreams
The orange blue colors lift in a smooth pallet
As we reach our hands towards the velvet sky
The jet streams scar the morning with white lines
And we trace our fingers along where the colors meet
Holding each others hands and hearts
As the night melts into the day
And I have discovered a new planet called "Happiness"
Within the universe called "Us"
My boyfriend is the president of the astronomy club at our school, and I really love him, so I wrote this. I'm gonna show it to him someday... someday I will, just maybe not today.
Katie Miller Apr 2019
This is a love poem to myself
My eyes resemble the waves that crash upon the shores of my pupils, the white foam jagged edges cut into whatever it is that I happen to be looking at
My eyes reflect the storm that little sailor boys are warned about because I will take their ship and I will break it in half
My My eyes are the layers of the blue atmosphere above that holds launching rockets which carry history up to the moon
My eyes are beautiful
This is a poem of what society tells me not to tell myself
My hands are those of a creator, one that creates beauty itself from scrap paper and dried up glue sticks
My hands write poems that leave my pen dry of ink but full of meaning
My hands hold the world in their palms and map out the answers to the questions I ask
My hands are beautiful
This is a poem written in the first person because I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m beautiful except for myself
My scars are the notebook paper lines on which novels of strength are written
My scars show myself , and anyone else worthy of seeing them, that I am a warrior
My scars prove to me that, no matter how many times I’m told otherwise, I can heal and get through each moment
My scars are beautiful
This is a love poem because the only validation I need is from myself
My face owns the smile that Leonardo Da Vinci searched for to paint onto the Mona Lisa
My face is the subject of the marble sculptures that I craft in my own mind
My face is the line of symmetry in between “perfect” and “awe-inspiring” that the photoshop editors try to balance
This is a poem that some will call “Arrogance” but I will title “Reminder For When I Forget”
This is a reminder of my eyes, my hands, my scars, my face
This is a reminder that I am beautiful
I saw an online challenge, and so I picked three things I didn't like about myself, this was also on my bucket list. Ta-da
Apr 2019 · 121
Let them
Katie Miller Apr 2019
if i were to **** myself
it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone
since i'm told to all the time
the people who tried to help me out of this
will cry tears though there are few of them
let them be happy soon hereafter
the people who demanded my blades to my wrist
will smile down upon my blood-drained body
let them be victorious in themselves
the people who didn't know me
will see me as a number in the statistics
let them do powerpoint presentations on my pain
let the people of the world forget i existed
let the people of my world remember my name
let the people who i loved be free
let them
Apr 2019 · 2.2k
Rape Culture, Spoken word
Katie Miller Apr 2019
“**** culture”
...
Even the phrase slices my tongue and cuts like a double-edged sword of double standards.
...
The same double standards that say that a girl who wears makeup is a ***** but says that if she doesn’t then she’s ugly.
...
The same double standards that say that if a girl wears a skirt then she’s desperate but if she wears jeans then she’s stiff.
...
Double standards that keep even the strongest girls asking “Who am I supposed to be?”
...
The double standard that require **** kits with pamphlets like pamphlets are gonna help us get better.
...
**** culture requires underwear for women with a lock on it, password and all! Buy one get one free, not of the underwear, but the rapists!
...
**** culture, the same one you see on the news and in the streets and schools and stores and malls and parks and sports and on the ******* sidewalks.

This next line is for the man in the beaten up red car who cat-called me when I was 15 while I was walking to my friends house last summer: No thanks, I don't want to “smile, little mama”

This line is to the sixth grade teacher in my old school district who was fired for sexually harassing and abusing his students: Who do you think you are to be putting your hands up shirts of 12 year old girls?

This next line is for the man on the news who said “Well she was wearing a skirt, so she was practically asking for it” Excuse me, sir, but that glass ceiling was made of glass it was just asking to be smashed, right?
...
The patriarchy shatters around their fragile masculinity and breaks into one thousand pieces before cutting the survivor’s wrists because no one ever believes them.
...
This is the stigma that is delivered upon the doorstep of **** culture’s house by the UPS worker named “Societal Pressures”. The package that no one wants to receive. It knocks at your door but you try to keep it locked.
...
“Knock knock?” “Who’s there?” “**** joke” “**** joke who?” “**** joke who isn’t ******* funny”.
...
**** culture is the societal pressure that is put on us to be beautiful, not for ourselves, but for the man who sees us every morning.
...
**** culture is the demand to smile for the old man that we just passed on the street near the bakery but keeping our mouths shut when we have something to say.
...
**** culture is standing in front of the mirror everyday before school making sure that I can't be targeted for anything that I'm wearing. Looking at every seem, every angle, every button and zipper.
...
**** culture is how I (along with my friends) can't walk by a group of boys without pulling up our already uncomfortably high necklines and ducking our heads.
...
**** culture runs in the veins of every girl, woman, and man that is subject to society.
...
**** culture is the phrase I'm not supposed to say but I say anyway because I deserve to be heard.
I read this for my slam poem mini-unit in public speaking and people were ****** at me for it... I enjoyed every second of it. I would like to say that the "knock knock" joke was not my original joke.
Apr 2019 · 105
Temporary Forever
Katie Miller Apr 2019
I am temporary,
But somehow,
It seems like we
Are forever

You deserve more
But when you hold me
I am convinced
That you will never let go

And when you speak
Your words form together
And string phrases
That echo within my head

And somehow
I know I will go
And I know
You will leave me first

But every minute
And every day
Seems to stretch further
Into the cave of my memory

You tell me I'm beautiful
And though the words are hard to hear
You become the only thing with me
And we are our own temporary Forever
Mar 2019 · 128
if you were here
Katie Miller Mar 2019
i cant express to you how much i wish you were here

if you were here right now

we would stare at the stars laying side by side

you would sing me a song

and i would be okay

if you were sitting next to me

you would have your hand around my hips

and your head on my shoulder

and you would call me beautiful

and i would believe you

if you were holding my hand right now

i would squeeze our palms together

and i would never let go even when you left

and the world would be full of poems you wrote

if you were holding me

you would kiss my lips

and see your eyes as they see mine for once

i would realize that i love you

though ive realized it dozens of times before

if you were here right now

i would kiss you and laugh

and tell you i love you

and hope that you would say the same
Mar 2019 · 469
Real Life: Spoken Word
Katie Miller Mar 2019
I'm sorry... is this not "real life"? I must have walked through the wrong door. You see: I walked through the door that had the word "reality" engraved across it's chestnut wood. I walked through the door that had the burning handle so hot it branded me with the truth on my palm when I turned the ****. I walked through the door that was jammed shut with the stuffings of lies that I've told myself for the past how ever many centuries. I walked through the same door that you did, seemingly, since that was the only door that I saw. So how, excuse me for asking, is your reality any more "real life" than mine? You tell me that I should be preparing for the "real world" but how is this not real enough for you? If this isn't the real world than how does anyone survive real life. Just because we're kept in an institution that shoves unnecessary knowledge down our already tear-choked throats doesn't mean this isn't real. Just because we don't know how we feel about the crazy world around us doesn't mean this isn't real. Just because you can't seem to respect us like we respect the rest of you doesn't mean for one second that this isn't real. I sincerely apologize if you've been put under the false pretense that I'm living a fairy-tale because I'm not. I sincerely apologize if, this whole time, you thought that I was writing the perfect dream poem of love for myself, because I wasn't. I sincerely apologize if you saw me and thought that I was some fantastic princess who smiles and sings to birds, because I don't. I don't understand how you don't think this isn't real life because I certainly do. So does the girl who doesn't even want to live anymore, this is real life to her and it hurts her. So does the guy who just killed himself because he can't handle the academic rocks that settle in his stomach when he hears the words "high school" or "homework". I certainly think this is real life, or are the lines on my wrists just plots to another princess story you were told when you were young. Are the scars just the structural integrity for the castle you dreamed of as a little kid with pointed roofs. I certainly think this is real life because tripping into love and falling out again hurts us just as much as it hurts you. I certainly think this is real life because my stress is just as heavy as yours it just goes by a different nickname. Call it academic or peer or life but stress is stress and my threshold has a different line than yours. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because your fire-breathing dragon breathes fire that burns brighter blue than mine. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because your hair has to be longer to let down and to climb up. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because you're prince-charming took longer to rescue you than mine did. Because I am my own dragon. I am my own ladder to climb. I am my own prince-charming and I'll save myself from this life. Because this is real life, and if it isn't, then I'm never going to make it.
I hate when people tell me that I should be preparing for "real life" as if high school love, anxiety, depression, heartbreak, and heartache aren't real enough. That's why I wrote this. Ta-da
Mar 2019 · 113
Languages
Katie Miller Mar 2019
3/18/2019
I don't know what I'm saying
This is a foreign language
It balances on the tip of my tongue
And crawls around the roof of my mouth
This is a romance language more romantic than
Spanish, or French, or Italian
This accent is startling but softer still I whisper
As you murmur sweet pieces of everything into my ear
You seem to be fluent in this language
As if love was your first spoken tongue
While I stumble over the words unable to say a simple phrase
The phrase unspoken for fear of mispronunciation
Because it's so easy to say wrong
Because vulnerability is another dialect I do not speak
Though it flows off of your tongue so easily
As if your teeth are sure of where they land
And your lips form the words that I need to hear
Even though I never knew I needed to hear them
This language that I don't speak
Comes from a country where the most beautiful people live
Where the happiest of smiles look up to the sky
Where the hearts are pure and simple and loving
But I do not come from that country
And my passport was brand new and unused
I have learned to live by myself on my own island of walls
The walls I build to keep out those who care
For I might hurt them if they came in
But you speak words that fill the cracks
And the love you give expands and breaks the wall
And you teach me this language I don't quite understand why
But you make sure that I know myself
Before I know you
Or the language
Or the world around me
You flew me to that country on an airplane made of the clouds themselves
And taught me this language that I will never forget
This language of love and happiness
This language of you and me
This language of the world as it should be
Mar 2019 · 122
Sunset of Doubts
Katie Miller Mar 2019
3/15/2019
To go with your instincts is what they say
But I'm just going to follow my heart
And if it leads to you at the end of the day
Then I will happily fall apart

I need to process my thoughts
But I can't stop thinking of you
My mind keeps connecting unnecessary dots
And so I don't know what to do

Your eyes, your lips, your hair and your smile
I'm melting to my own sunset of doubt
And when you walk away, my heart it will shout
I want you to stay, but you won't
Mar 2019 · 156
Dream Rejection
Katie Miller Mar 2019
3/13/2019
I had a dream
A dream I never wanted to have
A dream about my dream boy
We stood there like we always did
And he wrapped his arms around me
He hugged me and I felt happy
One thousand thoughts rushed through my head
And they all collected to one
They swirled and mixed and blended together
Until I could no longer place one from two
And then I said without purpose
With all my thoughts inside my mind
“I love you”
He pulled away from the hug
And looked at me in the eyes
He looked at me as if I was a toddler
Not strong enough to know the truth
He looked at me as if I would break
And as if he would be the one to shatter me
He looked at me as if I were the one he couldn’t keep
And he said
“Let’s talk about love…
I don’t know if I love you
But I think it’s safe to stay with like.
Love is a lot, and I don’t love you.
Not like that, not yet”
My soul was crushed and I said
“Okay”
And turned to leave him there
I stopped a second and looked at him
And he wasn’t looking back
He was never looking back
And he never looked back
At me
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