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KAT COLE Feb 2015
The silence embodies my exhausted self.
Let the battle end tonight.
Let me rest, I've resisted long enough.
KAT COLE Jul 2015
Last night.
I felt the walls closing in.
I felt my throat swelling shut.
I felt the scream inching to the back of my mouth.

Everything stood still and quiet as my head bounced back and forward, left to right.

Stop crying.
Stop ******* crying.

My hands are running up my sides to the only place they seem to fit perfectly. Gripping around my neck just tight enough to feel the tension.

I'll keep my eyes open so the darkness wont consume me.
Because i'm scared.

Please wake.
Please.
******* wake up.
The comfort of a flashback.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
A never
ending tread.
Keeping my
head above
every roaring
wave.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
You know its been days.
Days since these heavy eyes have mended.
This suit of armor is nothing but twisted, tense muscles and weak joints that have made this body whole.

Just tell me it's going to be ok.
Tell me I'm going to make it through this.
Tell me ill survive.

You would think they would prepare you for battles like this but then again, how would they?

I'm tired of the positive speeches and the nonsensical analogies you think are helping.

I feel my bones starting to ******* inside of this tired body.
Just tell me i'll make it out of this alive.
That's all.
I will survive.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
I fought the good fight one too many times.
The constant running, hiding, yelling.
When will it end.
I can feel my hands getting weak and my knees beginning to unbuckle.
When will it end?
Let this battle yield if only for a moment.
Let these tired eyes mend
Let my broken body rest tonight.
If only just for the night.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
You have ruined a part of me.
A part of me that shakes when I'm alone.
A part that can't close my eyes for too long.
A part that can't sleep without a breathing exorcise rituals just to calm my body down to rest.
My bones ache from the constant tension of anxiety.
Never knowing where you are or what you're doing.
I cringe in every greeting praying that your name is never said in return.
You have ruined me.
But only a piece.
I will fight for myself because no one else did and no one else can.
I will be made whole.
I will rest.
I will fight.

*Take these shattered broken bones and make them new.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
Your words are a flame
that set me on fire.
Your touch is a river
that floods me.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
Your consistency is never ending &
your grace is unfailing.
Your presence is as promising as the morning & your light is like the moon.

I will love you for all of my days just as you have loved me.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
How beautiful you sit.
Returning every night to a love that is unending.
The consistency of your visit is the very reason I live.
The light in the blackness.
The guide to my path.
How gracious and patient you sit only to be recognized for just a moment.
You're a gentleman, Mr. Moon.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
Something about the ocean that draws the most emotion out of my being.
I can stare for hours at its beauty.
The way it's never ending and unstoping maybe.
I'm so envious of its consistency and mystery.
How beautiful it sleeps and how gracious it awakes.
To be one with the sea is happiness to me.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
Let the life I live be only guided by the wind and moon light.
Let it be blissful and simple.
Let me be so rich with love that ever encounter is greeted with a kiss.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
I'm so tired.
Tired of living.
Tired of dying.
Tired of just being so tired.

To not feel is a curse.
& to feel is a blessing.

But what is the in between?
Exhaustion I think.

I'm just so tired.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
On days like tomorrow I stand on the edges of the furthest ground and breath in the air like never before.
I let my lungs do the talking and the oxygen do the kissing.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
One day you will know.
One day you might understand.

Any averageness you ache for, you will not find here.
No organization, nor solidity.
I am a whirlwin of inconsistency.

My thoughts are never ending.
My body is never resting.

These feet will never settle on solid ground.
This soil will always forbid it.
Like sinking sand, it embodies me if I give in to its suddle ease.

I'll run my race.
This never ending pursuit of wholeness.

You can't keep up.
Your desire is what keeps this earth above your eyes, where every other living soul chooses to reside.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
The weight on my back has broken every bone in this body of mine.

When will this end?

When will I be strong enough to crawl out from under this bolder?

Why do I find such comfort in this shattered being?

I don't want it.
Make it end.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
There is no place I can't look,
No feeling I can't sense,
No fragrance I can't smell,
that doesn't bring you here.
To life.
Right beside me.

How awful this feeling is.

To be so out f control if something so controlling.
Something taking over my being.

My stomach flipping, my eyes watering, my fists clenching.

How can you be so gone but so present?
KAT COLE Mar 2017
its like walking in to a dak woom with no lights room and deperately looking for a light swiththat isn't there.
Like chiking on every word you say, terrifie of the resoce that spills through your ****** cracks=ed lips.
I cant close my eyes.
i see nothng at all.
I feel it all.
Everthing in its place that;s not supposed to be there.
walls necorted wall decortate with fist chaped wholesand shatter glass judt lkr nre carpet.
I close my eye and i see his face.
All of the face.
His long beard cover in whiskey, her thin hair, the way she said, "im going to kiss you  like adults do."
It swollows me whole.
It take my minutes, my hours, my days stripped away from me.
I am nothing to be to be cared for,
I am nothing but dissasociated mindlessness.
You stole it all from me.
Every part of me was ripped away like fragibe bir bines.
Drape me in this body bag of satin sheets.
I'm too sick. Like a flu in my mid.
there is not cure.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
There is no place a can go, no sight I can see, no smell I can recall that doesn't remind me of you

You've ruined me.
You've ruied any sort of childhood I ever had.

You know, my therapist told me that I have so many triggers that my body completely shuts down on a regular bases because it can't handle the memories.
I can't live a normal life because of you.
I can't even sleep because of the the fear you have dyed me with.
I hate you.
I hate you for stealing my life away from me.
I'm ranting. Trying to put into words. Trying to find my way out of this mess.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
I'm consumed with exhaustion.

Just to carry on a conversation takes every part of me to form a single word.

How long will it be this time?

I am the thinnest of glass, fragile as hell.
Barely alive but still standing.
KAT COLE Mar 2015
Learning to love every broken part of me is the hardest trial I have ever faced.

I've trained myself to only shed light on others when the power had shut off completely inside of my being.

How gracious and patient this love has sufficed.

How slow, long, and drawn out this war has been.

A constant, unnoticed war partaking relentlessly inside of me.  

With my hands to the air, I give up and give in to this unending fight.

This unfamiliar, insane, radical love.
KAT COLE Sep 2014
I've held the hands of ****** addicts.
I've kissed the faces of prostitutes.
I've hugged the bodies of the most broken.

To walk amongst the dead is where I belong.
To hold the fingers of lifeless flesh is the only thing these hands know to do.

Let me show you a love you've never known to exist.
Let me tell you about a life you've only dreamed about.

I'll glue every piece of your shattered body together.
No matter how much blood drips from these hands, I'll mend every sharp edge.

The scars on these hands will remind me of every soul I've been stitched with.

These deep, stretched, alluring scars.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
I'm pass the point of no return.

There is no thought that can't be said.
No secret than can be tucked away.

I will stand strong in this storm with my hands in fist and my feet planted in the ground.

Days of victory are soon to come & I refuse to be silenced by this crippling illness.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
I want to know just how you think.
How you function.
What makes your smile so big it's as if it will never fall.
The corners of your lips turn up so high.
I want to feel you in such a way that I can experience all of your hurts and all of your joys.
What would that be like.
How are you in the silence?
To know another soul so deeply.
So deeply that secrets don't exist and shame isn't present.
To know every dark corner of that mind.
What's it like?
KAT COLE Feb 2016
What they did not see is that I am only bird bones.
Fragile and lifeless.
Feathers ripped away by the hungry.
Born into survival and not of grace.
Lay still and small. They will pass by.
Let down by their hopes of a put up fight.
Like a wishbone. Snapped with little pressure.
I lay draped in a body bag of mattress sheets. I am swallowed whole by the soil of the silk stitching.
My last articulated thought only being that some how these bones had been exposed by some quick and painless experiment.
Eyes open. Skin rotting. Eaten alive from the inside out.
Bare. Inert. Uninhabited.
This leather skin, stretching so very very thin.
Deepening the hollowed valleys of my depleting coffer.
My only remains are of fragile, lifeless, bird bones.
Ripped away by the hungry.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
Who are you to say what I do with my time here on this earth?
I'm here for one thing and one thing only.

I know this not because of any direction given to me or any set of instructions.

I know this because I can feel it.
I feel it deeply etched into my very soul.
I see it in every set if eyes that are met with mine.
I know it with every life that is whispered in my ears.

I was made to love and nothing else.

To love the broken, the fixed, the hurting and the thriving.

I was made to love.
KAT COLE Feb 2016
Last night a man stood outside our apartment building screaming.
Yelling every thought & response to each conversation that filled his sick mind.
Nothing falling from his lips made any sort of sense to the audience of bothered listeners.
I however, could have listened to him for hours on end.
Windows wide open.
Only separated by netted screens.
I listened.
Calmed by the shaking echos of his nonsensical narrations.
I listened.
Almost envious of the certainty in his voice.
His lack of mindfulness beckoning my lack of perception.
The unseen canyons of my subconscious now flooding with his translation.
How twisted is this head of mine to desire my own abiding, blustering interpretation.
One that echos my own nonsensical narrations.
Just listen.
Only filtered by netted screens, with windows wide open.
Just listen.
And to the conversations that fill this sick mind, I wish i could just listen.
KAT COLE Feb 2015
In silence we sit, waiting for the first word.
How did it ever get this bad?
You remind me of reality.
A reality I never want to be a part of.
Something I don't even know of.
This normalcy you speak of, you crave so deeply in your bones.
Your body aches from desire.
My heart races for compassion.
How do you live like this?
Two separate lives that no one could ever understand, yet our blood the same.
Empty words.
Silent voices.
You'll try but you won't get me this time.

— The End —