Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2019 · 147
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 · 190
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 · 94
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 · 83
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 · 92
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
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 · 91
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 · 84
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 · 810
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 · 66
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 · 191
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 · 218
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 · 158
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 · 947
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 · 62
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 · 111
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
Give me a reason
To live
Apr 2019 · 41
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 · 49
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 · 3.3k
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 · 56
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 · 55
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 · 425
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 · 52
Katie Miller Mar 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 · 61
Sunset of Doubts
Katie Miller Mar 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 · 90
Dream Rejection
Katie Miller Mar 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
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
Mar 2019 · 56
Poem Steps
Katie Miller Mar 2019
This line is the first
And here, this is two
No matter how many times it’s been rehearsed
I can’t stop thinking of you

This is the stanza where I confess
And this is the line to prepare
In all honesty, I’m a total mess
I cannot express how much I care

Now this is the part
Where I can’t stop thinking
Of when you make me fall apart
And into your eyes I start sinking

Finally now, comes the end
A stanza, a poem, a line
Everything becomes hard to comprehend
And I can’t believe that your mine
Mar 2019 · 515
Katie Miller Mar 2019
Hold my hand
Holding a whisper against my palm
Tracing my life through your fingertips
Listening and hearing from the very beds of your nails
Keeping a secret wrapped around your fingers
Intertwined with the sweet company of your voice
Biting on my nails from the nerves of your touch
Nerve endings connect to reach a secret coded love story
The same love story I've dreamed of for years
The same love poem that I've written without your name
That now, I whisper without a doubt
That you hold my hand and I see you for the first time
One hundred days go by and you hold me closer still
Fingertips on my palm, following the lines of my doubt
And trace them right back to my heart
Where they dissipate with the will of your whispers
Unearth the broken secret that my hands hold
Erase the vestige of hesitancy in my voice
And sketch scars that line my wrist, writing a story between them
Silver fingertips that line my face and drum on my heart
The beating beats of bliss against my fingers
Brushing your thumb against the side of my hand
Soothing the rocking unrest inside of me
Your hands hold mine
And cradle my palm
And everything is okay
Mar 2019 · 39
Katie Miller Mar 2019
Sometimes I doubt
The undoubtable things
As if the sky is never blue
And time is never passing
Like why does he care about me?
Why does he choose me over every other girl?
Why does he only ever see me in a crowd?
My hair isn’t long like them
And I don’t have scrunchies for him to hold
I don’t have the best body
I don’t have the right curves and edges
My eyes aren’t as bright blue as some
They don’t strike you like a lightning bolt
My words don’t make sense
They just swirl into incoherent tumbles
I don’t love myself or have an ounce of confidence
I walk around wishing to live as someone else
I don’t have the most optimistic mind
My will to live is lower than the rest
I’m almost never truly happy
And when I am, I’m terrified that it will shatter
I’ve never had someone feel the same back
Because I’ve simply never been good enough
And somehow, though I am convinced of very little
He sees me as enough
And I don’t understand
But I guess it helps that he understands me
Mar 2019 · 245
You Say
Katie Miller Mar 2019
My eyes are like wolves,
You say you love them
Your eyes
A silver-green fire
A moss plant
Enchanted with your words
A hazel autumn field
With sunlight beams
My hair gets in my face,
You say that it’s cute
Your hair
A perfect curly fluff
That bounces when you walk
The epitome of upbeat
The soft curl of your hair
That just floats where you are
My words are cunning and sharp
You say that they’re intelligently spoken
Your words
At exactly the right time
In the perfect order to fluster my heart
The syllables crash together in a symphony
Your voice a chorus of itself
Knowing without the need of a script
I am valuable
You say that I don’t know my true worth
Your value
Outshines the oxygen we breath
And climbs over the water we drink
You climb the mountain and still climb more
Your worth is overflowing my heart and my mind
Losing you would be losing alot more than a person
Mar 2019 · 51
I Always Thought
Katie Miller Mar 2019
I always thought that the idea of a summer kissed laugh
Was just the cliche used to everyone
I always thought that a snow-flurry smile
Was the epitome of a typical love story
I always thought that the effect of a sincere gaze
Was the basis of every romance novel
I always imagined that a soft warm hand to hold
Was the turning point of a classic love poem
I always believed that the weight of a soft-whispered word
Was the quintessential secret of forever
Until I met you
Then I heard your laugh
And the birds chirped through a July morning
Though it was snowing outside my window
Then I caught your smile
And realized that you were my love story
That I could read and still get hopeful butterflies from every word
Eventually I held your gaze
And realized that your silver-green fire eyes held a secret
That I want to look at every day
And when you caught my hand in yours
I held the softest whisper in my palm
As you traced my fingers and scars
When my ears finally heard my name
Your voice was the only thing that told me that I was myself
Because my name sounds so right when you say it
Because you are your own poem
You are your own whisper
And your own promise
And your own secret
And your own forever
And you are mine
Mar 2019 · 47
Wishes Win Nothing
Katie Miller Mar 2019
Blow a dandelion
Scattered wishes
Weedkiller breathes death upon their hopes

Wish upon
A shooting star
Destroyed debris grants nothing

Pennies in wells
Change for a wish
Leftover change in an empty case

Rabbits foot
On a chain
Hopping stops a hoping dream

Four leaf clover
Picking flowers
Wishing on the dead weeds kills

Wishbone breaking
A wish come true
One is left with a broken heart

Birthday candles
Blow, make a wish now
Burning reflections in teary eyes

A hopeless sky
Ignorant innocence
Children’s wishes turn to dust

A hopeful fairytale
Told stories of love
A broken heart reveals the truth
Mar 2019 · 114
Katie Miller Mar 2019
To me “goodbye” is so hard to say
Ask of me my heart but you already have it
And then, to watch you just walk away
With you and me together, we just seem to fit

When I’m with you, I suddenly know
That there’s nothing better than us
Because with you, the light finally shows
And the dawn is as bright as the dusk

I keep my secrets and hold myself close
But you know me better, and hold me closer
In between the shadows, you fight all of my ghosts
The music of my heart, and you're the composer

A concept of dreaming in reality
With your arms around me I'm calm
A floating wonderwall of you and me
A dancing secret you hold on my palm

And so one moment lasts forever
But is somehow over with a snap
And while my heart climbs on this unlikely endeavor
I just hope that I don't collapse
Katie Miller Mar 2019
This is an ode to the things I'm too afraid to say
This is an ode to the “I love you”
The one that echoes in my heart and fills it with hope
The one that despite my trying, always gets caught in my throat
The one that I mean but I forget the language I speak in
This is an ode to the “I want to hold your hand”
The same one that dances on my fingertips in prayer
The same one that glides along the palm of my hand into theirs
The same one that is never asked because vulnerability does not fit into my glove
This is an ode to the “just hold me”
The request that steadies two heart beats to one moment
The request that holds the sunset in between two people
The request that comes from an unexpected origin
This is an ode to the “I'm scared”
The confession that changes the view from one eye
The confession that I can't say because it might hurt
The confession that spilled the truth of dreaded heartache
This is an ode to “please don't leave”
The plea that breaks a heart when it's not met
The plea that comes with the strings attached, pulling on a heart
The plea that is a promise never kept because everyone will leave eventually
This is an ode to the things I wanted to say
But never had the courage to say them
Katie Miller Mar 2019
“I freaking love you”
My heart skips a beat
As it belongs to him
“I freaking love that”
My heart jumps to my throat
As it tries to escape
“I freaking love us”
My heart has jumped out
And it spreads across the page in letters and words
“You just inspired me”
With poems of my words he writes
And claims I am the inspiration
“I really want to hug you right now”
My heart soars across the sky
It melts with the sunset colors
“Don't cry”
I cry because I'm relieved
Doesn't he see how happy he makes me
“You make me happy too”
Also, together, we
I can't contain the bliss
“You just wrote another piece”
My words to him are poetry
He claims I'm better than I am
“Your (you're) perfect, Katie Miller”
He says but I don't quite believe
Because I've been broken many times before
“You write every time you speak”
I use words because they're true and real
It's as if they understand me better than myself
“You inspire me alot”
You inspire my words
You inspire my poems
You inspire me
Mar 2019 · 119
There Was A Boy
Katie Miller Mar 2019
There was a boy
Who taught me who I was
Through poetry and grammar mistakes
That I couldn't quite figure out
There was a boy
That despite everything I do to annoy him
Swears that he doesn't hate me
There was a boy
That taught me how to put my head on someone's shoulder
Because I've apparently been doing it wrong
And he taught me how to be myself
There was a boy
That taught me that not every cliche was stupid
And that my breath can be taken away
With the right words with the right intent
There was a boy
Who I understand to be the one
To take my breath
And steal my heart
No matter how hard I try
To keep it
Mar 2019 · 135
No Better
Katie Miller Mar 2019
A concept that I cannot quite unravel
When he says “us”
I begin to unravel
A moment in time shared by two
But felt as one pair
I hold it in my hand
A broken seam sewed with care
Holding hands to hold a heart
A shattered person completed by another
A light that shines
Of “well maybe one day I can
Hold his hand and just be with him”
Not alone
Never apart or broken down
He builds me up when I break down
And him with me and me with him
There is no better that I could be
Mar 2019 · 175
Once Upon A Dreamer Boy
Katie Miller Mar 2019
Once there was a boy I dreamed of
He had curly hair
That was perfectly upbeat
And danced when he moved
And fire eyes with silver
The kind of eyes that pulled me in with warmth
But scared me with intense sincerity
He had a safety about him
That hung from his arms
And a story that spilled from his lips
His notes were those I could hear all day long
And never hear a song the same
He told a different story with the music he loved
And I longed for the next note to hear
His hugs were the epitome of safe
With his arms he lifted the world from my shoulders
And with him, I could be me
I could be the truest self I ever was
I knew who I was because he knew me
I could climb one thousand mountains
And defeat everything that fell to my feet
With him by my side, my insecurities broke
And sadness was a foreign language on my tongue
He made me strong by making me weak
And he had no idea that he did
But I awoke from the dream
And realized with pillows and sheets
And a dizzy feeling in my head
That some people were meant to stay where they were
And that he was never meant to be mine
Mar 2019 · 137
Katie Miller Mar 2019
If I was ever unsure
He closed the doubt away
So it never came out
If I ever forgot who I was
He said my name one hundred times
Until I loved the sound of myself
If I ever walked away
From the person who I was
He gave me a mirror to see
If I ever wanted to quit
He stopped me from moving
And counted the reasons to live
Mar 2019 · 112
11:11 Wish
Katie Miller Mar 2019
It's 11:11
And I can't think of anything
Except for you
The only words in my throat are your name
And the only sound I hear is your voice

The only thing I see are your eyes and your smile
A broken down merry go round horse
Nothing escapes my swirling mind
Except for your silver fire eyes

And my head is dizzy and my heart is fixed
With the soaring hope of you and me
Though my wish may not come true again
A penny thrown in the fountain won't hurt

I blow the dandelion and close my eyes
And picture you instead
Katie Miller Jan 2019
Two-tone lips
Chewed raw from a tempted anxiety
And a stitched together string
Told to keep quiet unless you have a lie to tell
So you can protect the connected streams of expectations
A lie balanced on one lip, the truth falling from the other
Catch it quick before it spills

Burnt bruised skin
Strangled by the soft palms of mercy
With a choked lie so we will protect their name
A yellow-blue watercolor of forgotten truths
Blended together with the concealed coverings
A punch again and one more hit
Block the kick to stop the pain

Obsidian knife blades
Cut deeper than the steel that you use
Black explosive rock glazed with the promise of blood
A line cut into it that separates truth from lie
A simple consequence of being the one who was there
A chance game token of who can get the better death
A knife that only reveals the bruised lips of the liar that we are
I don't entirely know what this poem means, but it definitely means something, I'm still formulating a complete, coherent meaning for it. The two-toned lips was an idea that just kinda came to my mind, and the obsidian and blood combination came from a recent trip to New Mexico, when our tour guide was having us imagine the obsidian arrows covered in blood, and I found that artistic and beautiful, so I used my own version of it in my poem.
Jan 2019 · 1.3k
Apple Stems
Katie Miller Jan 2019
Twist the stem
And I was scared
As I got close to your name
It landed on just that one letter
That you write on every paper
And letter and note
Because you were the letter of my apple stem

I was told when I was younger
“Twist a stem, that person will love you”
But now I realize that if you plant a stem
Nothing will grow from it but hope
A twisted stem detached from the apple
Means nothing but the fact
That I love you

I thought that I could love you
If my red apple told me so
And I was right because I really do love you
I eat apples until I’m sick and can’t stomach the thought of anymore
But that means nothing with a twisted branch
And all that’s left
Is a broken apple stem
When I was younger, I was told that if you hold an apple and twist the stem while saying the alphabet, whichever letter the stem broke on would be your next true love. I was doing this with a friend today (even though we're almost 16) and I realized how silly it was for the thousandth time. I knew it was stupid and ridiculous, but I kept doing it, simply because of hope.
Jan 2019 · 1.3k
Loved Like Flight By A Bird
Katie Miller Jan 2019
how does a bird fly
if he cant appreciate his own wings
and realize that those wings
can take him places
that he has never been before
to see the mountain tops
above the orange horizon sky
into the deep blue nothing above
to see new beauties that have gone unseen
but if the bird can never see
that the only thing that can lift him are his wings
then he will never truly learn to fly
and if he never learns what his wings can do
then how will he ever become
truly himself
I wrote this poem with the personal feeling of how I cannot possibly be loved by anyone else until I love myself, first. How can I possibly be truly connected with someone if I never have the self esteem to believe them when they say "I love you". I realize this and I wanted to show it in a poem, and i decided that a bird is the best way to symbolize that.
Jan 2019 · 1.6k
If I Stop Loving You
Katie Miller Jan 2019
I left consciousness while wide awake
Never breathing but overthinking
What you said what I said
Breathing and living with you on my mind
Your name always on my tongue
Like sweet stinging candy
A delicate touch of powerful words
When you are the one I wait for daily
A stopwatch of life when you say my name
And everything goes silent but you
Click, the stopwatch starts again
And I realize that you will never be mine
I realize that you were never mine
I realize that I
Can only be
If I stop loving you
Yes, I wrote this about someone specifically. He's a good friend of mine, I told him I had feelings for him, and they weren't reciprocated. While it did hurt, I realize that I'm 15, I'm in high school, and I should get over it. Spoiler alert, I'm still not over him. I wanted this poem to capture how I feel when I think of him, his name, his eyes, his hands, his hair: all of the cliche stuff that a 15 year old girl would notice about a boy she likes. I'm in high school, and I realize that I need to get over him, but it's not happening.
Jan 2019 · 1.1k
Katie Miller Jan 2019

I’m walking through the halls
Trapped in by suffocating walls
I’m walking through the doors
Over the decaying floors
Who has walked through them?
And where were they walking from?
A broken desk
Or a secluded bathroom stall?
Memories and laughter or
Tears and sobs evermore?
Have these hallways heard confessions?
Or witnessed just depression?
Have they made memories of laughter ?
Have these windows shown truth of all of the lies?
Or only a glimpse of an aggravated sunrise?
Are the walls shrines of the past?
Holders of all questions asked?
If the curtains wave in the gentle autumn breeze
Is there still an ill wanted disease?
The dilapidated ceiling watched over inhabitants
Still built perfectly built but falling apart
And visitors that were seen as contaminants
The unwanted one
The one no one would notice if they were gone
The same one that screamed for help here
For anyone to be near
Or the one who was popular
A class A top gossiper
The one with a sharp tongue
But no one knows that it’s wrong
The hallways whisper the secrets
Of their strongest weakness
The halls tell the stories they may
Of friends on their departing highway
And the friends who are just meeting
Smiles, laughter and a warm greeting
I’m walking through the halls
Trapped in by suffocating walls
I’m walking through the doors
Over the decaying floors
Waiting for a voice to hear
For anyone to show they're near
Waiting here forever
I won't leave this place, never
I wrote this poem after someone in our school committed suicide. I didn't know him too well, but it was still upsetting and shocking. As I was walking down the halls, I realized all these different things: he walked through that door, that was his locker, he laughed in this hallway, he ate at one of these lunch tables. I'm hoping that this poem describes all of this with just words.
Jan 2019 · 1.9k
Wishes Win Nothing
Katie Miller Jan 2019

Blow a dandelion
Scattered wishes
Weedkiller breathes death upon their hopes

Wish upon
A shooting star
Destroyed debris grants nothing

Pennies in wells
Change for a wish
Leftover change in an empty case

Rabbits foot
On a chain
Hopping stops a hoping dream

Four leaf clover
Picking flowers
Wishing on the dead weeds kills

Wishbone breaking
A wish come true
One is left with a broken heart

Birthday candles
Blow, make a wish now
Burning reflections in teary eyes

A hopeless sky
Ignorant innocence
Children’s wishes turn to dust

A hopeful fairytale
Told stories of love
A broken heart reveals the truth
I was sitting in the car while my dad was driving and we were just talking. He said that, the previous night, he had seen a shooting star, but didn't both wishing on it because that would be "ridiculously ignorant". I, being a poet, launched into a cliche explanation that a shooting star isn't just a wish, or a dream, it's a hopeful type of ignorance. To this, he responded, "It's just space trash". I decided to write a depressing poem from this, just as I do with most things in my life. I hope that this poem captures the lost ignorance and innocence of a wishing well, a shooting star, a rabbits foot, a clover, and dandelion, and all of the other wishing spells we cast when we are children.
Jan 2019 · 118
Mirror Mirror
Katie Miller Jan 2019

mirror mirror on the wall

was i always meant to fall?

roses white and dying light

silver's sweet forgiving bite

Ask the questions: why and how

Although no answers are given now

Was it hate or was it love

And is there any place above?

A broken frame that shows the past

The broken know it doesn't last

Security given by false sunlight

That gives a person their will to fight

For the fragile smile that happiness broke

And the one who smiled never woke

So mirror mirror on the wall

Tell me truly: who is the fairest of them all?
I wrote this poem when a friend came to me and said "Sometimes I just wonder if I was always meant to go down in the end". This inspired a lot of the poem, as well as other things that she's said to me. Also, a few weeks ago, a student in a neighboring high school committed suicide, and that inspired me to write parts of the poem as well. I tried to put her thoughts as well as my thoughts onto paper, with self confidence issues, depression, anxiety, and overthought actions. I hope this poem captures all of that in a raw and meaningful way.

— The End —