kat - Hello Poetry

kat Feb 2018

in depth

earth was a changed heavenly body the moment her eyelids widened to reveal bambi orbs that were the color of hot chocolate in comparison to freshly fallen snow.
gentle--the way to describe her despite her cold exterior. she is silk. she is a rose garden, just don't forget the thorns. she can make every hair on your body rise with just a simple gaze in your direction. if looks could ****, she'd be convicted.
there is something so addictive about her; she sits on your tongue and you can't get rid of the taste she leaves behind. if you could describe her differently, she's the old school television reruns--so familiar yet so nostalgic. there is something about her that's already been here before. her soul is antique and knowing, for she is intelligent with intentions as pure as newborns in a hospital. she is the type of innocence the world knows no better than to assassinate. the first breaths of motherhood; baby's breath braided in her tangle of curls.
there is never too much of her; she's barely around long enough for you to dip your toes in the water. she is an ice berg; cold, uncontaminated, with so much hidden below the surface. her being is a book not many have cared to read, for she is judged by her cover.
she's elevator music; you know her from somewhere and it's on the tip of your tongue, you just can't remember.

her soul has been here a while.

kat Feb 2018

THE INTERLUDE, 5PM.

here begins the inconsequential tale of the often dazed and disordered galaxy that is myself, a being complied of a disarray of many perplexities that seem to structure this petite framework of a human body, attained with a memory of pablo neruda balladries and an affinity for the convoluted, intricate aspects of life. many of these compositions are latent, obscure pieces that i have chosen to keep undisclosed, however i firmly believe that sharing my expressions and assessments of what i have envisioned through my eyes could be deemed cathartic. consequently, enjoy these chaotic chapters of very extensive yet overtly down-hearted paragraphs and ostensibly compressed sentimental writings; they were all short-lived, yet felt like an eternity when scribbled senselessly into a diary by a hard-headed omission.

kat May 2017

catharsis

i remember of the artless days before i had met you and how whenever i went, i'd see a horizon star sewn;
how i could delve into utopian reveries and feel indulged, and how every kiss was a profound violet in bloom. (and how i was repulsed by boys who smoked--despise you for that)
then you came around. it was like every motion and resonance around me flatlined, all flesh faltered into corpses,
but in that virus abraded imagery, there was you:
a flaming grandeur of all that appeals.
you could have titled yourself a heavenly entity between a solely-all greyscale and i would have still believed--
i'd see your face in enthralling outlines before i went to sleep and whenever i spoke, your name gritted the back of my teeth, my bloodstream was fluxes with you written all over it.
went retrograde about it three times and it never passed. you named it cupid's love but i knew better. first blossom of spring and the archers drew their bows, i never saw you again.
i refused to go through the reversal phase; clung to the image of your lips, eyes, the color-enhancing visages that altered my retina, and decided that you were a better victimless ****** than any hit of codeine.
i never did go back.
i see stars but do not see chronology behind them, sleep but never rest, laugh but never with rapture, and anything even barely emphemeral feels like a century.
i'll always pray for heaven to let me back in: whether into culprits' hands or not.

— The End —