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Jun 2015 · 355
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Jun 2015
mouses in houses in holes on the wall
they crawl and they tiptoe and mingle and fall
they ruin your **** and leave gifts on the floor
why don't we have mice holes anymore?
May 2015 · 294
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman May 2015
i wonder what would happen
if i stopped the music
would the blood stop, too?
or is that just my brain?
my happiness?
my sanity that slips away so quickly, so **** swiftly
day by day
hour by hour?
the minutes pass
but not the feelings
drowning deep
into my body
so deep
into my mind
no one can find me
and all that's left is a shell
a walking personality of lies
a walking lie of personalities
spewing words
perfection of syntax
how could she possibly be gone?
she's so there, so present
but autopilot is deceiving
deep in the confines of my brain
the brain, the mind, the sanity i lost so long ago
is the ability to lie through teeth
lips
tongue
the only parts left of me.
Jan 2015 · 638
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Jan 2015
Carved into my thighs
Are the names of the men I've ******

Every time a new one comes along
They can read with their fingers the names of the fallen soldiers
The names of the deadbeat dads
The names of the married men
Who have touched me
If only physically

I can feel them every time I touch myself
Clothe myself
Hurl over the toilet to appear unattainable
Every time I make love or hate
Why would we talk about it?
He doesn't want to know about my past
Or the men I've been with

I'm just here to be enjoyed for the moment
What the **** is a future and a past?
Mar 2014 · 327
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Mar 2014
Last time I saw you
You stabbed me as we hugged goodbye
With the pen that drips your name
Onto the pages that celebrate your sins.
Mar 2014 · 372
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Mar 2014
It's amazing how easy it is
To drink you up
Like alcohol
Good for now
Bad in the long run
Enjoying the bitterness of your flavor

Appreciation of ail/ale is a learned behavior
This isn't something we ever would have enjoyed without training

Yet I drink it everyday
Like water
Like I need it to live.
But it kills me.
This is meant to be read aloud, this the ail/ale.
Mar 2014 · 336
Coburn
Kathryn Chapman Mar 2014
We laid in bed all night, your touch churning emotion
So hot, my heart melted
As we spread out bodies across the covers
And I ate my words, like butter.
Mar 2014 · 292
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Mar 2014
Passion isn't an emotion; it is emotion
Feed your fire and let it burn you
Let it scar you with permanence
Let it engulf you in flames
And crawl away from the ashes
Let it make a Phoenix of you.
This is semi inspired by Bulowski's "find what you love and let it **** you" poem.
Mar 2014 · 225
Untitled
Kathryn Chapman Mar 2014
isn't it funny
how someone that meant so much
can fade into a memory
like a breath of air
that kept you alive in that moment
but is irrelevant now
isn't it funny
Jan 2014 · 552
baby c
Kathryn Chapman Jan 2014
Read rhymes
Sloppy ***
**** this ****
***** breath

In my heart
In my body
Limp ****
Alcoholic

Morning after
*** naked
In my bed
Regret

Late night
Drunk texts
I love you
***** head

*******
**** me
Now I know
We'll never be.
Jan 2014 · 1.2k
shit
Kathryn Chapman Jan 2014
When claws drag down on you
And you feel them pulling you into the sweet, sappy, thick, uncontrolled dark abyss
We call it love
We call it infatuation
We call it whatever the **** we feel like calling it to justify the feelings
Of the ****** euphoria
The pure ecstasy felt when looking into another's eyes
And feeling wanted
And feeling thick, gold, beautiful **** coming up through your lungs
Choking on it
as you sputter out the sweet pitter patter of the rain you thought grew your crop
but drowned your harvest
When you love so hard you don't know hate
When you hate so hard you see auras of red floating around those you feel
passion
That's ******* emotion.
Dec 2013 · 651
mornings
Kathryn Chapman Dec 2013
I've always felt that those I love are most beautiful in the morning
When they first awaken, their eyes puffy and their hair disheveled
Red marks from the blankets sketched across their skin

In those moments
They're confused
Disoriented
Unaware of their surroundings for a brief moment
Newborns to the day

Before they put on their faces
Before they put on their clothes
Their identities to the world

You get a glimpse of this sweet, innocent child living inside of them
A glimpse of this person, in their most raw state

That's how I know I love you,
You're beautiful when you're vulnerable
Adorable when you're ugly.
Nov 2013 · 402
i
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
i
weave syntax with syntax
on the shell of her thighs
carved with lies
from the guys
who've in time learned to wry
up her mind
in the lines of your eyes
she dies

as you try
to imply
with the rye
and the rhymes
and the times

that you'll die
die alone with her every night
and despite
that no one can love her demise

she flies to her dreams every night
and she's gone
Nov 2013 · 397
no light
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
splinter splinter

crack crack

the chair breaks through

my bony back.

i sit

i say

i dream

i stay

and never ever seem

to scream.

but when i lay

me down to sleep

and pray my brain

my heart to beat

i cry

and shiver

and ask myself,

"why doth thou harm thyself?"
I wrote this years ago when I was battling anorexia and bulimia, pre-treatment.
Nov 2013 · 814
& & &
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
buzz

buzz buzz

rip rip

snippppppppp

crack

my back

crack crack crack my back

rip

rip rip

rip rip rip my hip

maim

maim my brain

**** my body

wring me out and hang me up

for the vultures to peck

when there are no field mice left

cut my hair

and burn my *******

scalp my head

and **** my chest

and i'll love

i'll love i'll love you forever

when you put you put you put me together

when you make you make you make me forget

all that you fail to regret

when you make you make you make me think

that you make you make you make me happy

but i know i know i know you ****

i know you ****'

and ****

and

****.
I wrote this in the throes of my eating disorder, years ago in high school. I think I used the repetition to mimic sobbing and the inability to make fluid speech, but paired it with a jumpy rhythm.
Nov 2013 · 846
frowny clowns
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
dance and twirl and flail around

who cares if we look like silly clowns

knocking shelves and breaking hearts

drinking a bottle of whiskey and throwing darts

straight at brains and thoughts and love

taking the life of the pretty white dove

we run rampant like rabbits

making bad habits

destroying the world that raised us well

ignoring the cries the screams the yells

slaying the ones who love us most

and over drinks we proudly boast

then we grow up and graduate and then

some of us stay and some become men

those who remain lost and alone

allow their hearts to turn to stone

they die with tears and fears and frowns

but ****, it's fun to stay a clown
Nov 2013 · 534
carved
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
the names of my past
engraved so deeply into my thighs

the men who kissed them
now scripted in permanence
next to their fallen comrades

— The End —