Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Kate Lion Sep 2014
Utah is a bubble
And Rosario (Argentina) is the cigarette **** of Satan himself
Everything sacred burns
to the ground in this city, and it all started when the moths started to come out in the daytime.
They aren't afraid anymore.
The skeletal souls of men sense us in the streets, their scrawny hands ***** for reality through the haze--
But I'm not what they think. There is no price tag, no label, no packet of instructions- I am the very convincing candy wrapper with nothing inside (and there is an emptiness that swallows me up like a cough drop when the strangers tell me I'm beautiful)
Life doesn't come with golden tickets or rewind buttons
(I've sewed so many into my sweaters just to watch them unthread themselves and leave my soul gaping open again)
I imagine myself (in the end) trying to cover my existence with the filthy rags that remain of my life
By their fruits ye shall know them, but I prefer vegetables.
... Am I going to Hell?
Kate Lion May 2015
i take on other people's fears
find their masks lying around
i put them on for fun

i pull threads from people's coats
make a cocoon of them
of the weaknesses
the dreads
the sadness

but why

i want to know what it feels like
want to have pity on their starving, naked souls

but they eat me alive.

let them be keepers of their own darkness
i say
let them reach to you through the prison bars, the high bars set by society that most can never grasp
but i have to take off my shawl and drape it round their shoulders

it's all that i have left

there are two sides to me
one wants to give and give
the other wants to take and keep and scowl at the rainbows as they form overhead

one loves the sun
the other wishes that the rain would stay forever

how to pull me out of myself
out of the dark abyss i've created for my soul
Kate Lion Sep 2014
my personality only comes in one flavor
and I'm not here
to custom-make an order or
wait on the haters
hand and foot

it shouldn't matter if my poetry is bland and tasteless
if my story isn't interesting enough to be told

perhaps I am a lone comic book sitting on a shelf in Green River, Utah

I may be useful to somebody
Someday
(but in the meantime I'll learn to love myself)
Kate Lion Sep 2014
i feel like a bird that flew right into a window
that you pointed at and laughed

i feel like the shaven-head celebrities
the crack addicts
the high, homeless hippies on the street

i feel like a person of Wal Mart
the awkward couple that shows way too much PDA in public
the punchline of a fat joke

(i see all the fingers pointed at me as--)

i struggle to bend my wings into shape again
but i've taken to writing poetry and cutting up pieces of newspaper
to fit between the ruffled feathers

i shouldn't still have brain damage from the collision i had with your pride (sixteen miles high)

but maybe i do

i tap on the glass just to make sure that i really am a fool
and to see if you'll look back
to see me redeem myself
to see me fly
a
  w
     a
       y.

(but you don't)
Kate Lion Apr 2015
strangers hold up scoring cards as I pass by
6
4
8
3
i pretend not to notice them, but I do

I try to pretend like I enjoy talking about myself
when people ask me stupid questions about my life:
"where do you work?"
"how are the wedding plans coming?"
"are you going to school?"

all of which hold very little importance
so I shy away from them
perhaps it is because I do not feel worthy of such attention
cannot grasp that some people genuinely wish to know

I don't show love or interest like that
sometimes I am afraid that I am not capable of loving at all

but that-
is a silly notion
scrawled up on Lucifer's drawing table
he wishes for me to be miserable, as he is
why do I succumb to the lies

I feel incomplete sometimes (always)
and I wonder if Pacman feels like an incomplete ball of sunshine, too

"Sunshine," he calls me.

and I shrink from my lover,
because I don't know what to do with my darkness.
Kate Lion Jan 2015
my head's underwater
but i'm breathing fire
what i always thought the lyrics were for "All of Me"
Kate Lion Jan 2013
So I planted a flower garden, just like I always wanted darling
And I’ve sat in it every day since
Talking myself up to the white roses and making them blush because they know that they aren’t really the company I’d like to be keeping
Not really, anyway
And I feel rather terrible about it because I speak as if I’ve wallpapered the world with my words
But it’s just my own skull and your thoughts, I suppose
And I think they see right through me
Oh, they can see all my thoughts, all right
And I wish I resembled sterling silver, fixing all my failings as I go- so none could ever know all those mistakes
No one can judge a piece of duct tape-

I planted a flower garden, just like I always wanted darling
And I’ve done my best not to peek over the courtyard walls
Just to see if you’re finally coming to greet me like a stranger
But I never let my eyes wander farther than the second cobblestoned row from the top
Just to be proud of my ability not to think on you
I shouldn’t feel quite so terrible about those white roses knowing ‘cause deep down, somewhere in that same place where my love for dancing and ketchup and all of those other terrible things are, I think white roses have finally taken root as well
But it- isn’t my fault
I don’t think
Oh, but now my memory is a continuous roll of clear scotch tape that I run my fingers over always, trying to find the beginning so I can break off the pieces so nothing blends and examine them more carefully to the end
But I can’t find that teeny, tiny ridge that will show me how this all began
Do you remember- can white roses turn brown?
-I thought not
Oh, you always knew what to say but never quite how to say it
I’d take your double-edged words and be grateful for them now
Just to know if my favorite color turned brown
If my favorite thing about me will never be found

So I planted a flower garden, just like I always wanted darling
And I water it whenever I think on three-fourths of my favorite things
They don’t know your name or the name of my love
Because I empty the bitter tears concerning those things in places I never visit anymore
-The idea of producing one-fourth sour-faced and wrinkly roses makes me squirm-
I wonder
If someone gave you the stem of a daisy could you dip it in ink and draw the face of your favorite anything
I thought not
I forgot (oh, see how I am forgetting things) that you don’t have any favorite things
Dash it all (to pieces)!
I doubt that I was ever your favorite, not to say I was the least favorite
But all of this is beginning to make more sense now, I think
But, back to the most important thing
The white roses
They’re lost in that place full of things I’ve learned to despise
Or perhaps just things I’ve lost a liking for
Oh, how I despise you
Is that why I can’t find you (or the white roses)
Anywhere
Kate Lion Jan 2013
Must all beautiful moments
Di appear like th s?
Bef re I ev n          .
Kate Lion Sep 2014
he opened his window to the darkness
put on his shades and stared at the stars in captivated awe

i never saw anything but light in his smile
never thought that he could tear a delicate,beautiful creature to pieces

but the phone rang at 4:00 this afternoon
and i saw the crestfallen face of my sister that matched the face of the crescent moon

he confronted the darkness
he told her it had place in him

but he broke the open window
he broke through the darkness
he poured star dust into her trembling hands
(he didn't know that he turned gray
didn't know it all would fade)

she is alone now
but doesn't know how to put the contents of broken trust into an urn and leave it on the fireplace

but
he put off the darkness

and he will not go back to sleep in the morning
he will battle himself
until
the daylight
comes
Kate Lion Jan 2013
And who am I to think I should be loved
[When I’m not even sure what it means
Being me
Anymore]
So I’m tucking away the parts of me
[The Kate Lyn you know and love]
That shouldn't exist That love you
[You won’t have that frustrating child at your feet
Tugging on your shirt for reassurance
Anymore]

I’m closing off the eyes I only had for you
[Forever]
And
[In the meantime]
I’ll learn Braille
[So when you’re ready]
I will trace your spine with my fingertips
To see the name you’ve made for yourself
[Maybe you’ll even let me read your lips
With my own

But I get too far ahead of myself
By wishing that
Don’t I, Love?]

And who am I to think I should be loved
[For all that I am]
When I don’t even know what makes up all that I am
[I have yet to discover my favorite flavor of ice cream
And every stable person ought to know something like that,
I think,
Just in case.]

Who am I to think that you would love me

[I suppose that you did press your lips to my pages
Leaving kisses in the footnotes of my story
Burning away the definition of ‘just friends’]
There are four holes in my story now
[I counted]
When I tell people what happened to us

But love is more than that

[I think
That’s what I would like to learn
At least
By tucking myself away into an envelope for a while
Or perhaps into a bottle
I'd look prettier then
Knees against my chest
Watching my breath fog the glass
Taking my finger to draw hearts in the condensation
Letting it dry
Just to trace it again
Until you choose to see it
Getting drunk off my own message]

There’s more to me than the parts that love you
[I hope]

So I’m tucking myself away
Like I’ve said
[But hopefully not all of me
Because that would mean I can’t find any part of me
That cannot live without you]

Until I know the meaning of me
Until I can say I’ve left my hand on a stove for too long
[Experimenting with other love
Getting truly burned by a person that isn’t you]

I will not let my pencil be my driftwood anymore
[In this tempest we ignore]
I will wash myself up onto white beaches
Exploring the farthest reaches of my mind
[To fill those empty places I never take time to think about
With useful things
Like white roses and garden gnomes
Every yard ought to have those,
I think,
Just in case]

I’m going to stretch myself
[Until I’m thin enough to spread across a page
To be read like a book
Full of poetry that isn’t about you]
I hope you know how much it will hurt to do something like that
To let myself be put on display
[In some foreign library in a distant country]
To be looked through and seen
By eyes that aren’t yours
Because you’ll be somewhere else
[Doing useful things
Like matching socks
Or playing cards
Something like that]

I’m going to live without you
[For a while,
My love]
All those places that I’ve been wanting to see

I’ll see alone
First



[I feel that every person ought to be alone
At least for a little while
At some point
Before they can truly be happy with another]

And if you ever care to find me
[You know where]
Open me up on your card-playing table
[And if I've got white roses resting in my hair
And burns on the palms of my hands]
It will mean
[That I’ve seen all I need
And learned Braille enough]
It will mean
That I have learned what it
[Truly]
Means
To live
[Without you]
Kate Lion Sep 2014
i let
my lips
get chapped on purpose
so i wont
be tempted
to kiss you
on our date tonight

i let my hands get dry and cracked
so i will have no problem in keeping them folded on my lap

i took some heavy blows to the knees
so if i dont want to walk very far with you there will be no rational reason to be angry at me

and i would show and tell you all of these things to drive you away

but i know that you dont care
youre the first boy thats ever been in love with my mind
(beautiful, right?)
and im not scared to the point that i would be willing to self-destruct
(i am a little bit more logical than that, i value my thoughts more than that
they're the only thing i have power over, anyway)

youre the first one that has ever encouraged me to do what i love
(and maybe i love you for that)
Kate Lion Jul 2015
i remember
when i was little
the tub would overflow and i would get this awful fear that clutched at my chest
but my heart resisted being torn out

i remember
when i was little
seeing the smoking Twin Towers and i didn't understand what a terrorist was
so i would have nightmares of terrorists climbing the trees in the backyard
and looking at me through the window
it's the kind of fear that makes you question your own breathing

it's like your heart is asking you, "are you still alive?"

i remember
a few years ago
i had the mental capacity to experience suffering
i would take a paddle and hit the pain pong ball against the walls of my head over and over again

i could write it into the soles of my feet and i wouldn't even squirm from being tickled

am i overly sensitive now?

i can't even finish this poem for fear-
Kate Lion Nov 2014
how many times do i have to run myself into the ground
(and if i do, will anything grow?)
i am hickory, ivory, take me and sculpt me or carve me
tell me what i'm needed to be
i want to know someone will play an f sharp
or use a wooden spoon for their soup for the homeless
i don't want to cut myself down, spread myself out into a self-help book
i'm not selfish
i don't get satisfaction from that
i take my temperature like Neal A Maxwell described
and i find that i'm still not happy
i pull myself up to see my roots
i know where i've been, but not where i'm going
and for someone who is directionally challenged,
that's pretty concerning.
i am a goldfish clumsily dropped into the ocean
i've never been in open sea
i am a broken-in horse outside the fence
will someone please tell me what's beyond the next horizon
or do i have to get there to find out?
Kate Lion Jan 2015
103 days
until we start a private nudist colony
Kate Lion Jun 2015
they beat on us
for holding up a light

they tear at us
for doing what is right

but fear not, my love.

darkness is not a keeper of light
(they will be driven away)
Kate Lion Jun 2015
i wanted to troll you
rummage through that closed mouth and find the feelings you forgot to floss from between your teeth

how was i to know
it "wasn't serious"?

you told me that you ached to call me yours--
and then you hung up.
Kate Lion Sep 2014
i am clay
i don't want to lie out in the sun too long
because im still figuring out what i want to be
im not ready
to
dry
out
yet
Kate Lion Nov 2014
i dangle my feet over the edge of hell.
i'll never do it,
but i wonder if i will ever be able to braid my hair by myself
tie my shoes
smile like a two year-old who thinks cookies are the purpose of having teeth and a tongue

if i search in darkness, i will surely find despair
and there is a cellphone light glowing in my face
as i write this
so i should pursue this happiness
this temporary thrill i get from internet existence
Kate Lion May 2015
Me: You know what I like most about you?
Him: That I can down six tacos in one sitting?
Kate Lion Nov 2014
i will crawl into the cradle made in "g" and sleep until somebody finds me here.
in cyberspace.
Kate Lion Apr 2015
"is cutting a sin?"
you ask me.
only fourteen years old.
and you show me your wrists.
one line for the divorce
another for your mother's death
a 3rd to feel the sadness in a tangible form.
but there's a fourth line, it's the strongest
it's the lifeline
and I threw it to you the moment you told me.
My fiance's sister told me last night that she has cut her wrists a few times.  She suffers from depression.  Is there anything people have done to help you guys with those kinds of problems?  I suffer from seasonal depression, so I am probably going to take her outside a few times a week to walk dogs.  But is there anything else I can do?  I'm the only one who knows; she doesn't want her therapist or family to freak out about it.
Kate Lion Feb 2013
i went to a witch doctor who uses natural ways of healing
and by witch doctor i mean chiropractor, but the term sounds better for the situation i am about to describe
he asked me questions while i held out my arm
and if my arm fell easily to my side by the pressure he was applying, it meant no
so he asked if i had a heart wall
and my arm fell easily, like the way i fell for you
telling him no
(it was something i already knew but had hoped i suffered from because wouldn't it make life simpler to blame my infirmities on something so emotional and beautiful and dysfunctional we would have constructed together)
he told me my body had nested emotions in other places so as to keep my heart open and vulnerable
one of the places was my left arm
and i didn't realize until tonight that when we first held hands
and your heart was racing so fast i could feel it in my palm
it was my left hand
and
well
that is significant
Kate Lion Jan 2013
Don't they see that I see that my eyes are blind, that I'm mad in mind,
And hurting in the heart?
That I sense that I'm just one scent in the flower shop, just one cent in the charity box-
I sense that.
But they don't know that I was blinking just to whisper I was sinking, I could tell by all their winking they couldn't tell what I was thinking
When I wished to call myself the name that all professed I had.
And what I saw in the heavens above
Were celestial bodies that called themselves what I thought I always was.
But in the sea it's hard to see your own reflection, hard to see nature's selection, so I floated on, not knowing my complexions imperfections.
I was always trying to speak to them like I was one of them,
Like I was friends with them.
I didn't know that they were far away and had nothing to say,
But when I found out, I
F
  E
    L
      L.
And didn't know then it was the one time when I would most be like all of them,
But still so different.
I'm the smallest star in a sea of sadness
Melting in the madness
Of a mind that went awry when she found seashells were the closes show-and-tells she'd ever have the means to do.
When she was taken aback by the endless black she'd never beautify in sparkling skies and wishful lies
But found that she was forever free to float in salt
As a star
Who'd never start
To find a dream
Or waltz with wishes on the moonbeams.
You see, I've always been different
I don't think I should make sense,
Here I am comparing pennies to scents
In the flower shop, in a charity box,
But it all makes sense to me.
I'm the saddest star in the sea.
I know that I've been broken by these simple things I've spoken,
But I'm no sea star. I do not grow arms
When they snap off in the dark.
I'm just a girl
Who is different.
Kate Lion May 2015
our generation should be known as the Meowlennials
because our biggest accomplishment was getting cat pictures all over the internet.
Kate Lion Jan 2015
You are water
A necessary element swimming through my veins
Kate Lion Feb 2015
the letter said
"yours forever and ever and ever,
Alex"

your eyes said
"you are the lens through which I see everything"

that is significant
to know that I have gathered
(like raspberries in a basket)
that many portions of

your heart

said I can unzip the veins
and slip quietly into its chamber
whenever it rains
(a snug little sleeping bag for my loneliness)

a soul is a living, breathing thing,
always growing back

(when the rains are over,
there will be more raspberries
you will offer them to me)

come May,

"you'll have all that I can possibly give,
forever."
Partly inspired by Ed Sheeran's "Evergreen."
Kate Lion Apr 2015
we present ourselves as perfect manuscripts
nobody sees the crumpled rough drafts and messy handwriting
scattered around the bedroom carpet at home.

nobody has seen the way i've
scratched out parts of myself
that didn't fit into the high school mold
then the parts that didn't fit into my suitcase when i moved away from home

nobody has seen the revisions i've made
do i sound too formal, am i too quiet, do i need to be a little bit funnier in order to be considered acceptable art?

i've thrown entire scenes of my life into the trash
because i don't want anybody to see them and i am ashamed

i sit for hours staring at blank pages wondering how anyone could ever find me interesting enough to spend time with

do you ever feel that way, too?
Kate Lion Sep 2014
Don't try to hold my hand (because I'm a jellyfish)
Love is like lightning,
Beautiful from a distance,
But just wait till you're struck by it
Don't try to hold my hand (because I'm a jellyfish)
Kate Lion Mar 2015
there is a magic
in watching you
pack up your things
knowing that next time
you'll unpack them with me.
Kate Lion Feb 2015
"I thank my God
upon every remembrance of you."

(i do)
Kate Lion Apr 2015
accept everything
let go of the past and reach
for what could happen.
Kate Lion Jan 2015
i will love you
until my heart pumps so hard that my veins burst through my skin and attach themselves to the mattress, spreading across the walls and feeling for your body in the darkness

i will love you
until gravity becomes old fashioned
we'll wear it as vintage
falling into each other
all over again
for old time's sake

i will love you
until we explode in mini supernovas under the scrutiny of God's microscope
and our dust fragments tumble,
then settle snugly,
spooning on His bookshelf.

to encrust the covers and begin another story
Kate Lion Jan 2013
I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
There's a lot more to me than the girl in Dr. Seuss pajama bottoms, shrinking beneath the expectations you have set for me
I wish I knew what your expectations are
But it's hard to reach for a bar you can't see
It's hard to mold myself into something that you will accept and place on the mantle of a fireplace so that when strangers come over you can point to me and say that you are proud
I'm not sure if you want candlesticks or a picture frame or a book full of wonderful accomplishments
I could be all of those things, if you wanted
I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
I'm stronger than my trembling bottom lip and the tears that break through the walls of my heart sometimes
I wish you weren't so logical and demanding of evidence you can hold in your hands
Because in my mind there's a gold mine of things I am trying to become
And none of them can be deposited in an ATM or withdrawn from a checking account
I'm sorry that I'm not real enough for you
And I'm sorry that you won't step into my mind for a second
So I can show you
The girl behind the numbers
Kate Lion Jan 2013
“I wish you could see yourself through God’s eyes

          And oh, darling, don’t think I wouldn’t lend you mine to look through

                   [I feel that no one can appreciate a beautiful thing like you

                             Like I do

                   And how I wish that I could change them, like they want to change you]

          But I’m so far from perfect, see

                   [My vision blurred as I cried with you

                               Though I really wished it wouldn’t

                    Because I feel I wasn’t really any help at all

                       (Your hand, I see as you rub your eyes

                                                      Is awful bigger than mine)]

          I know that coming from someone as despicable and worthless as me

                   [I tried to take the rust off the nickels in my pocket with those tears

I should’ve bottled them, instead

The cries of a tender soul are worth more than all the silver I could dream of]

          It’s not as wonderful

                   [I’d like you to know, dear-

I remember, I think, that I heard once

(The size of a heart is shown by the size of a fist)]

                             As speaking with and knowing the being who created the worlds-

                                       [Dear, He thinks the world of you].”
Kate Lion Feb 2013
i don't know how to shape my eyebrows
and that concerns me just a little
because i don't want you to think i'm surprised tomorrow when i run into you after your show
maybe i'll shave my head like people shave ice so i will look cool and calm and collected
maybe my hair will be blueberry flavored and your face will reflect the brain freeze you'll have at the sight of me
nah

because the thing is
i'm a blender that's always plugged in
and you're the only one who can mix me up so much that all the flavors run together and i don't even know what to feel anymore
so i'll expect that tomorrow
the way people expect childbirth to be the most painful thing in the world
though
i don't think anything could amount to the pain of this band-aid being ripped off
over
and over
and over again
Kate Lion Sep 2014
instead of the thrumming of crickets
cockroaches
and the constant lull of the frogs by the lake

instead of late-night parties on the other side of the wall (didn't they know we were always in bed by 10:30?)
the drunken laughter of strangers
the foreign tongue that made its way into the dialogue of my dreams

instead of keeping myself up at night from the terror of
wondering what poverty-stricken, starved man might break through our poorly-fitted door to violate two helpless girls

my lullaby is the hum of a dishwasher
the creaks in the finely-polished floorboards
the purr of the computer
the cracking of ice as it slides from the dispenser in the fridge
a symphony of first-world luxury and comfort

i am up at 1:45 in the morning

and i couldn't be happier
Kate Lion Jun 2016
You're a ****
Most times I dig you out of the earth
The dirt gets under my fingernails, my heart beats fast because I dont want anyone to see-
And to think I'm a murderer.

But when I'm weak,
I water you
I pretend you're not there but I'll watch you out of the corner of my eye

Are you growing?
Is the sun treating you we-
No
Stop.

I'll ruin myself. Stop asking questions, stop giving attention.
I pluck you out again.

But you always come back.
I've planted other seeds.
I've gone months without looking at you.
I don't love you.

Stop filling my head and choking my tiny thoughts.

I'm sick of you.
Kate Lion Jan 2013
Do trees have itches they can't scratch
I mean
             The limbs that can't move against the wind
             The apple abortions each autumn
I save all of my apple cores
I see forbidden thoughts in them that no one sees in me

"And The Lord God said unto the serpent... upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life..."

Do we look down on the trees like the overgrown lego people that we are
I mean
             Snapping their branches like dry spaghetti
             Devouring the fruits of their labor
             Their body
             Our choice

"Unto the woman he said... in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children..."

I save all of my apple cores
Wonder about the curses of their parents that don't apply to me
At the hands of man the trees fall
Through Autumn the leaves fall
And their children fall as well

"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread."

And to the tree
God said nothing.
Kate Lion May 2015
capture the moths in
your butterfly net and say
"you're beautiful, too."
Kate Lion Apr 2015
i'll pluck poetry
from the flowerbeds to read.
you are not alone.
Kate Lion Oct 2015
i
secretly
loved
a
wookie.
Not my poem, but I love it. Found on the Instagram account makeblackoutpoetry.
Kate Lion Jan 2013
I can’t stand that I can’t understand
Why my heart heaved its contents into your content hands,
Tearstains dripping through my fingers as we [danced].
I remember the days I’d [collapse] in crowded streets,
Because my heart would [skip] too many beats.
Then you’d [spin me], kiss my cheeks and whisper
Something sweet about my [feet’s] defeat.
But I knew then that I couldn’t [keep rhythm],
So I must’ve suffered from heart failure.

And once you left in October, and my soul was sober
Not drunk on my tears,
I would wonder what could’ve persuaded you to stay,
But once my heart attempted a [pirouette]
I no longer questioned my place.
.. I don’t know if you watched after that,
But I’m sure you saw the {snowprints} I’d leave in your yard,
My only way of telling you that I hated being my own {saving grace},
Because a {fallen angel} drops too hard.

But icicles hung from your eyelids that winter,
And splintered your vision.
Looking back, I believe you cried as much as I did,
And the tears froze across your eyes.
Because you never looked me in the eye as our minds ran to pieces
As we raced to find peace with ourselves.

You spun me for a loop,
My skull kissing paintball splattered remains of my left and right brain
As they bled all over themselves,
Knocking my sanity off of the shelves
In an attempt to explain whether love is history,
Or chemistry,
And I didn’t want to ponder the prospects
So paper was my band-aid fix all.
I wrapped my mind around it,
Concealed my soul beneath my words,
Until I was my own mummified form,
Too afraid to rip them off.
Because what if nothing had healed at all?
I rotted beneath my façade.
My smiley face band-aids the only hands of happiness that hugged me for
Months,
And I
Sunk
Into depression,
Not unlike this current recession,
Not knowing where my silver lining would be;
Wondering if it would come only when withered lines worked their way across my cheeks,
A gray hairline visible in the sun,
As proof my time had come,
To be happy.

But something better came sooner with the rains of May,
And a new boy painted smiles back onto my face.
Removing the bandages that had bruised my body,
And punctured the skin of my poetry.
So I was free to bleed again,
With fresh pieces to breathe in.

Was it happiness, or freedom that flushed my cheeks?
Or was it the uncomfortable spider that would weave my stomach in knots
As another part of me was lost
To the boy who painted my peace
For a price?

I didn’t mean to hand so much to him, love,
But a measure of pleasure came with a cost,
And at some point my beliefs were tossed to scatter in the wind,
And the spider of guilt in my stomach sunk its teeth right in,
Sadness seeping through my veins,
The venom of regret.

Because you were the only one who ever held all of me and none of me at the same time,
Who never asked for what I claimed to be mine.
All of me was yours,
Even the things you never asked for
Were stamped with your name for a future date.
But mail gets intercepted sometimes,
And my contents were spread
Before someone I hardly knew
And I-
Missed-
You…

Because you never asked for too much to touch or too much of my love
I loved you the only way I was able to.
And now…
I’m just a tainted tin can on the side of the street.
And I know you don’t have use for me,
But I’ll do my best to undo the dents of my past.
All I know is that yesterday you told me you hate it when I don’t say what’s on my mind.
But my tongue was a sponge that soaked up the ways that I’ve wanted to say
That I’m sorry.

And I’ve skipped my own beats for a year and a half,
Letting my turn to tell you I yearn for you pass
Right over
In an endless drum roll.
But-
I feel a –rhythmic- rattle-
In my –beaten-aluminum-body
As your footsteps
[Stop].
Please.
Don’t let me suffer for my heart failure.
Kate Lion Feb 2013
I have this dysfunctional need to tell you that I love you, and I know the cure
But I like to think these robot arms would start working again if you would just say you loved me back
But I know that I tied myself to this invisible chair, so how can words do anything to cut this rope the way you cut me
I also have this dysfunctional need for Dr. Pepper
Because I heard that cola products can take the rust off of these dysfunctional arms as well; the only problem is I’m treating just one symptom of a widespread disease
And the root of the disease, everything that’s wrong with me?
I went to the chiropractor today
And he told me I’m allergic to myself, and in saying that I know he means I’m allergic to every single thing I took into my body that made me who I am
Well
That includes you
Kate Lion Mar 2015
i am stuck in a bottle of windex,
that disguised itself as kool aid
my body smashed between plastic
you pull me out but i crave the fumes
i want to go back
i want to be with you
i want to go back
i want to be with you
i want to be with-
a love we made from scratch
i don't know what i want
i am sandwiched between the past and the future
there is no way out because
i cannot escape the present for the life of me.
Kate Lion Mar 2015
you scoff as he rubs wings into my shoulders
and life into my mouth
i am free with him
he has cupped me in his hands like a butterfly
let me go so many times
but i come back
(because i was always his in the first place)

i wonder why you want to be tied around his wrist like a balloon
don't you have feelings, too
perhaps children cry when they let go of the string
up
up
into the sky
(too selfish to understand that you would be happy if you could just fly)
Kate Lion Sep 2014
say something cliché about love
talk about cutting yourself or having low self-esteem
mention tea or coffee
or rain
or late nights
or anything else that has to do with teenage drama

congratulations
i just introduced you
to a good portion of poems that trend on this website
Kate Lion Jan 2013
i want to backpack across the ridges of your rib cage
see what keeps your heart from collapsing on itself
examine the stitching, the rivers of veins and where they lead
i want to put a flag
or at least drop a candy wrapper
somewhere
and when you'd bend over to examine it before throwing it away
i'd like to think that
for once
you were picking up on me
Kate Lion Jan 2015
it is human nature to scratch
even though we know it doesn't help anything
Kate Lion Jan 2015
i don't love you enough to cup you in my hands and sip you up like a little japanese soup in a sushi restaurant

what do you want, love?
my shoestrings
why, i have no use for them
what is love without sacrifice

i don't love you enough to hold on to you
i am no better than that child who lets go of her balloon and watches it float up, up, up
until it is swallowed like a cherry cough drop
i don't love you enough to give away every inch of my hair to keep you down-to-earth with me
i don't love you enough to strain against the wind and brave the spit of Al Gore
even if it would mean being with you

i don't love you enough to enjoy you while you are here
i don't love you enough to be more careful than the child who drops his ice cream on the ground and then cries when he can't have another one

(i love you more than that)
Kate Lion Mar 2015
how would you let the ice cream melt
if you didn't want it anymore

would you take a blowdryer to its droopy shape
whisper you're sorry but just can't stay

would you compliment the ice cream
watch it blush
let the heat rise to its face
then whisper you're sorry but you're going away

why would you let the ice cream melt
if you crave its texture and taste

when something isnt good for you,
perhaps it is better to let it bleed through
so that you can carry on

would you abandon the ice cream
there on the kitchen table
congealed and sticky and unwanted
letting the drips from the carton signify all of the tears
the ice cream would shed in your absence
Next page