Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Emma Katka Oct 2022
You assume you know me deeply
from what I post on social media accounts
while I'm behind glass, pins in my sternum,
like a butterfly you decided to mount.
I'm the pretty thing in the corner
that gets dusted off when you're lonely
I'm talked to behind the glass
while you think of new tricks to show me
You want validation and attention
so you put quarters in my ear
you wind me up for a few hours
and then you disappear
I'm so tired of the patterns
I'm tired of the empty plot
You want to wade in my waters
just to freeze over if it gets too hot
You want to tell me about your demons
but you really just want to whine
you want to tell me about your darkness
and how you think it's just as dark as mine
But you know nothing of my darkness
and you know nothing of my light
You don't know what keeps me rested
or what keeps me up at night
You don't ask me what my dreams are,
don't even ask me about the weather
You don't ask me about anything
but tell me you'd like to know me better
You want me to be vulnerable
but there's never a moment where that feels safe
You're a claw machine on a frenzy  
grabbing hands thirsty for my embrace
and you make sure to hit me up late
so there's no evidence to trace
your actions have become so transparent
it's started to make me feel sick
every time I see your messages
I immediately get the ick
I'm so easy to romanticize
when I'm an aura behind a screen
men tell me they love me
but I don't think they know what that means
because I know where I exist
in your little world that I don't fit
you decided a long time ago
I'm too much work, so you quit.
I'm a layaway lover
and a bucket list ****
You have none of my respect
and I wish you luck
Emma Katka Oct 2022
The house was white, paint chipping away, of course, with a wrap-around front porch with moss lining the edges. It can be seen from the road distantly... but to get to it is a little complicated... needed to park on a side road about a mile away.... only way to get to it was by hiking 1/2 a mile to a creek where there is a broken "once was" bridge that is broken in half that you have to jump across to cross the creek, and once you cross the creek, around the corner moving right, or west in this case, up the hill.... is where it sat surrounded by trees. It was beautiful approaching the home.... I have nostalgia about the smell of the air and the walk through the grass up the hill to get to it. I also remember my first step on the moss. I can't explain it rationally, but almost immediately upon my foot touching the moss on the porch, anxiety flooded through me, like a sudden panic... you know, as if you've fallen off your bike or bed, or tripped on a rug that was curled slightly from someone else tripping over it before you were there... I brushed it off and considered it to be the adrenaline I seek by exploring these houses and continued through the front door. I entered the kitchen first. There was a mirror on the far wall with a small sink under it. There was a very old razor with a bottle of shaving cream next to it. They were both rusty. I kept walking. I entered the living room. The walls were salmon. The sun shining through the windows and bouncing off of the salmon colored walls and floor and ceiling made horrible lighting in my photographs. I tried for a couple self portraits and wasn't satisfied and couldn't focus. I was anxious. I kept exploring. I found the staircase to go upstairs. More anxiety. My chest hurt at this point. But I continued up the stairs slowly and with shaky legs. My friend behind me was whispering that she didn't want to go upstairs. I can barely hear her. I feel like I'm underwater. She's still afraid. I'm still anxious. The walk up the stairs feels like it's taking me an hour to complete. Everything is in slow motion. She is gripping on my sweater and I'm still shaking. I make it to the top step. I'm facing a window immediately. Everything outside looks black and white but I know in my mind it's green. I keep telling myself "that's green" as I stared at the grass out the warped window and it wasn't changing color. I feel like I am walking through mud as I turn around to face the upstairs room. My friend is walking back downstairs. I'm hearing her in slow motion screaming "**** this, something is ******* weird here i'm going outside". As she is leaving I'm seeing what I'm seeing.... the far wall of the room is covered in black mold... beyond reason it is covered from corner to corner seeping to the connecting walls like they were hundreds of outstretched dark arms waiting to pull me into an abyss. Everything is still black and white. I feel the warmth of someone breathing heavily on my ear. Distinctly, I hear a growl. I feel the vibrations of an angry, sinister, evil growl, and I can't explain it. I can't explain a **** thing. But it was there. It was felt. It was real. And it was ******* crazy. I ran down the stairs and fell on my way down and scraped my knee up pretty bad. After that, all I remember is that the very moment I put my foot on the grass, and was off the mossy front porch, I was seeing color again.
Emma Katka Sep 2022
Fixer upper
Flipped and tender
Wondering where we're going
Home feels like forever away
And they say it's a feeling
Well then that's distant too
Emma Katka Sep 2022
I'm not feeling
very familiar
I've got an itch
on my brain
that moves linear
bruising on a foreign bed
tongue tied
and in my head
Emma Katka Aug 2022
I wanted more from you
than you were willing to give
but I can't expect action
from someone so miserably passive
even though you always had such pretty words
I remained thirsty for pretty verbs
that I knew I'd never see
but I kept hoping
and
I used to think you were my ghost
now I'm wondering if I'm more than just the host
for my own haunting
that's traumatizing and taunting my psyche
telling me I'm not worthy
all because of the actions of weak men  
that I give more power to than they deserve
once again...
and
communication without comprehension
is a deadly circle I find myself dizzying in
I could talk myself in to the ground
and think I'm breaking through to you
but it's an illusion
just like your truth
and perhaps mine too
I want to feel like I am more than a bucket list ****
I want to feel worthy, not down on my luck
and I know
I'll feel that better on my own
rather than the repetitive ******* I've been shown
the mind changes, rearranges
and I'm back to square one
boxes were never in my comfort zone
neither was being alone
I'd rather embrace my solo
Emma Katka Aug 2022
I love new notebooks. I like them even more when they're filled. I love the texture of the raised paper once my letters in ink fill their pages. The satisfying rolling bumps that I created. My fingertips gliding across the paper landscape.

But it never gets bumpy. My mind strikes me down first. I need the perfect pen. When I write, I press hard, so I like a steady stream of ink. It better dry fast, or I'm  smearing it. I don't like it when it smears.

My mind works fast, I can't erase ink. Backspace backspace backspace. So, I type. But I want to fill pages. The screen isn't as satisfying and I don't have handwriting to appreciate. I hate it when my handwriting doesn't look satisfying. But typing works faster, and better with my mind. I'll throw away lists if I don't like my handwriting. I'll make drafts. Re-write. Toss. Re-write. Now I can do everything on the list. The required conditions have been met.

I'll sit down for a little bit. I start day dreaming in poetry. I remember the way light looks on your dashboard. I remember your callused fingers catching on my tights in the passenger seat. I reach for my notebook; I want to write about it.

I need the perfect pen. I'll get up and look for one.
Emma Katka Aug 2022
What you think you know
You don't
Keep on disturbing your peace
Every time you think of me
Next page