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Jan 2016 · 377
dream catcher
katie Jan 2016
i always find myself drifting closer to you, i guess it’s an old habit of mine.
i feel yellow when you look at me, bittersweet and pastel. i still can't see through you. you are a sunrise and sunset. i don't want you anywhere near me yet i long for your presence. i got a dream catcher in hopes that it would stop the dreams of you from leaking into my mind at 3:14 am, and so far it's only missed one. i want it to be the other way around as it was before. you're curious but i'm not letting you in because my mind needs to stay clear, i don't need dark rain clouds again. that took up my whole existence. my bed doesn't need to swallow me up and pull me down like quick sand, that's why i got a new one.
Jan 2016 · 1.1k
earthquake
katie Jan 2016
my lungs are heavy again; it pains me to breathe and my eyes have most likely lost their gleam. I’ve been burning candles in my room to try to put the light back in them, but the scent is burning my nose. This reminded me of how my throat felt when i tried to hold back the tears in class the other day when my hands kept shaking like my body was having a mini earthquake. they’ve always told us to “duck, cover, and hold” during earthquake drills at school, but what the hell am I supposed to hold onto if I’ve lost myself?
Jan 2016 · 399
2015
katie Jan 2016
Dear 2015,
You took a lot out of me. Yet in the midst of anxiety attacks and standardized testing, I found myself.
It happened in the middle seats of crowed airplanes, in the lines of literature, and on the cloudy beaches of Santa Cruz.
I found myself crying in the arms of my mother, and I even found myself crawling out of the closet, but still trying to hid behind last year’s raincoat.
Oh 2015, the year of losing and gaining friends, hope, and happiness. I’ll miss your melancholy filled mornings and sleepless nights, but that seed that you planted in our garden in my front yard will bloom because after all, 2016 is the year of El Nino.
And I know that the rain has yet to come.
Oct 2014 · 419
j
katie Oct 2014
j
i hope you don't ever feel like you don't exist,
because at one point you were why i did
your hazel eyes softened when you saw me
my heart gushed ice water and my hands shook
you never kissed me, maybe if you did my mouth
wouldn't taste like soapy water
you said your hair has always been short which embarrassed you
although you've yet to realize its your soul that makes you so lovely
sometimes when i think of our memories my mind resembles a dark green foggy forest and others,
the Sahara desert in a heat wave
your arms embraced me as i wept,
making them my home
i was sicker than you and you could see the beauty, but all the beauty i could see was you
katie Mar 2014
my brain has been gathering clouds for the past week and today was the day that it decided to rain out of my blue eyes that nobody ever comments because they aren't extraordinary or complicated they're just dull and occasionally blood shot from *** and i keep thinking about how much i want to live in an apartment by myself where he could come over whenever i needed him to and i could feel the curve of his back and him breathing heavily because my head is on his chest, but then i think about it too hard and sometimes it hurts and i stop breathing for a second but i could never tell him that either like i could never tell him that whenever i hear artists he likes on the radio it reminds me of him and how much i want to hold him or that i someday hope he notices the scars on my thighs that were placed by a depressed version of me, the one that only she saw and knew and could fix but i also want to tell you that i think it is strange that people say their favorite part of the day is either morning or night nobody ever acknowledges the fact that 4:08 pm could be a very lonely time too like you and that if you tell me the little things about you that i will most likely love you or possibly fall in love with you like i did with her
to be honest this is just me rambling

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