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Mar 2016 · 986
clear
katie Mar 2016
You peel
back the
        skin
& we are
the same,
hearts
     beating
beneath flesh,
       organs
translucent
as scaly fish
beneath the
        surface
of a lake,
life clearer
now judged
by the
weight of
        a soul,
almond
shaped versus
deep bowl
too heavy
          to hold,
things obscure
before stand
        clear as
stars pressed
         against
the night sky,
as your red
twisted veins
hand
in hand with
           mine.
Mar 2016 · 667
see
katie Mar 2016
see
if a forensic
          scientist
fresh from
a crime scene
          were to
investigate
our woods
         & forests
would they
find blood
spattered
         patterns  
scattered over
chestnut trees
in deepest
      Mississippi,
a crimson
            history,
years of
          brutal toil
embedded in
the soil,
where children
played only
             the day
before,
perhaps if we
      all could see
we might tread
a little differently,
         investigate
our own hearts
meticulously
Mar 2016 · 1.5k
flight
katie Mar 2016
from this
vantage point
the world is
smaller than
we previously
thought, birds fly
alongside us,
cars that roared
before are
silenced,
we swim
in a sea of blue, 
a view that 
sharpens what
we already knew;
that this world is
beautiful,
a feeling that if
bottled
would be taken
in the traffic
jams & hospitals
& we would
see the Earth as a
speck of dust
floating
through a
Galaxy
much bigger
than us
Mar 2016 · 941
girl
katie Mar 2016
If her childlike
  self was to see
her now what
would
         she think
would
       the shock
freeze
her heart to a
still beat make
her turn & run
       back to the
dream, the
encounter
      shattering
her
     at the seams
as if
   they were two
elements that
could
not exist together
separated by age
      & heartache,
         everything
that had
  changed, blood,
        brain, dna
or would they
embrace,
     reconnect,
      vow to start
again
Mar 2016 · 491
demons
katie Mar 2016
My      demons  
   have     grown  
plump  over  
  these    long  
winter   months,  
  feasting  off    
cold      blood  
making    me  
crave     the  
warm   spring  
sun,     green   
meadows   of  
small   yellow     
buds     peaking 
  above    Earth;  
any     small    
    sign     of  
rebirth   in  me  
&    also   
      out      there
Mar 2016 · 1.3k
crow
katie Mar 2016
today a dark 
sky is
   wrapping
itself around
my town,
squeezing
    all that
surrounds
in its strong
muscular
   hands, one
solitary crow
    manages
to slip free,
flies over
highways,
      streets
& trees,
I watch it
enviously as
it disappears
thinking
what I
would do
      for a pair
    of wings
Mar 2016 · 822
vows
katie Mar 2016
Another day
     to wonder
if vows
pledged
       last night
will
withstand the
  coming light,
if they will
sprout
limbs & rise
with me in
this
      reality or
if they
will fade,
     grow pale,
shrink back 
      into dark,
never to enter 
     this world
& make their
    mark
Mar 2016 · 515
normal
katie Mar 2016
It's a reference
point, one where
people fall in love,
get married, have
children of their
own, a cycle so
known it's as if
its seed has been
sewn into our
souls, a seed that
is reluctantly teased
in me like a fly in the
background that 
inches further away;
small leaps at first
then bigger over  
streets, cities, countries, 
I shout to it but no
Mar 2016 · 578
whisper
katie Mar 2016
on this night    
each star is      
listening to
me as if we      
are lovers
whispering
I love you
across        
continents,
reaching out
into oceans  
of sky & 
plucking each
other down,
like a fish    
caught on
a line;
recalling    
how it felt
to be held 
by an orb so    
warm you
forgot the cold     
black hole
of old
Mar 2016 · 1.5k
dark woods
katie Mar 2016
they    were      not      
     someone      you  
could        lust    over,  
they    were     fey,      
blood       not    running
   the     usual     way,  
they     made     me      
   dream    of    streams  
touched    by  moon
beams,    ice     cold    
  fields  at       dawn,      
every     season    I      
have    ever      known
breathing      within
    their     bones;    
dark      woods      were  
organs   once     stood;    
    each      touch    a    
   crunch      underfoot      
revealing   another        
layer  so       deep,      you    
doubt   you     will 
   ever      reach     the    
heart       of      its    beat.
Mar 2016 · 1.1k
past
katie Mar 2016
My past lies
  like a deep
    still lake,
a record of
all my mistakes
swimming
  within its soul
& I want to burn
them all, but
   how do you
take a flame to
water?
it just stays,
    forms ripples,
sometimes small,
    sometimes
biblical, all I can
   do is wait for
drought, for
  clouds to move
& sun to come
    out; the day
I will wake
   & not see a lake
but a clean slate
Feb 2016 · 1.6k
anon
katie Feb 2016
i don't know you,
you slip down a street,
peruse a café window
looking for something
to eat, the inner
stirrings of your soul
a mystery to me & it's
funny because with time
I could love you, but as
of now you are like
any other undiscovered
book sat on a shelf
collecting dust, i blink
& you're gone, my
favourite read lost in a
sea of bodies; millions
of stories bleeding down
streets that i will never
meet.
Feb 2016 · 674
birds
katie Feb 2016
the birds
are lining up in rows
outside my window,
a song interspersed
between a highway
& a radio
& I wonder why
they don't explore
further ashore;
fly to a moor where air is    
pure & wings can soar
or a mountain passé
where sun warms their soft
feathered backs,
but they choose here,      
where sky is not clear
& telephone wires hang 
where trees used to stand.
If this last trace of wild 
were to up & leave, 
I fear this city would shatter,
their melody; the glue
weaving us together.
Feb 2016 · 614
Night
katie Feb 2016
Sometimes I
  pray for dawn,
    for this city
     to wake up
      & release a
   cacophony of
noise, for
engines to start
   & kettles to boil,
    for workers to
     drill huge holes
    in dirt roads,
anything but this 
   silent abyss
     that makes me
   want to flee
 mid sleep,
steal a car;
 ignite a spark
    in a never
        ending dark
Feb 2016 · 706
rainbow
katie Feb 2016
You came 
  into my
life like rain
  & left as
quickly as 
tides
  can change
now I can't see
  a rainbow 
painted across
  the sky in
red, yellow,
green,
  blue, indigo
& violet 
  without
  picturing
your
eyes &
wondering
  why
Feb 2016 · 1.2k
twilight
katie Feb 2016
You & me
     are entwined,
       a vine wrapped
    around your
rib; my spine,
your death
   does not sever it,
       I feel the pull
          at night in my
       bed where I
hang off your
every word,
    so much I have
      learnt to dread
        the cursed
   dawn; the way
it silences your
tongue, but this
   light is not for
       long, I wait
          out the day
     to hear your
twilight song
Feb 2016 · 2.0k
Exhale
katie Feb 2016
I wonder if God
    sees our numbered
breaths, how many
     have been & how
many are left,
millions of digits
    shifting above
our heads;
the old woman
 on the park bench
        with just 500 left. 
The jogger with 100
   between now &
        tonight when he
will exhale
     for a final time.
I should scale mountains,
         stare at the sun
  make my amount
  count, every last one.
Feb 2016 · 1.6k
renew
katie Feb 2016
Early hours; the
parts of sleep
     recalled;
          a fly opening
        it's silk cocoon,
   a foetus moving
in a jelly womb,
   irises and corneas
         assembling into eyes
                    eager to explore
                a world outside;
      those first times
when regrets are
               abstract concepts
                             not feelings
                        growing roots
       in subconscious pools;
all the things I'd redo,
              my deepest desire
                              to be anew
Feb 2016 · 1.8k
the world
katie Feb 2016
last night the world slipped in
quietly through my window;
police sirens, car alarms,
church bells, rainstorms
collecting in a pool
on my bedroom floor,
coffee cups clinked and
kettles boiled,
babies were born and
ashes were thrown
and though I was tired
I stayed up all night listening;
the collective madness
of the world
lulled me back to sleep
and i woke with its bitter
sweet taste on my tongue;
craving more.
Feb 2016 · 1.4k
peace
katie Feb 2016
I want to be alone,
to sit between the
concave hollows of my bones,
nestle beneath folds of skin,
shut my eyes and
make the world go dim,
just me and a pulse,
a heartrate pumping blood
and when I open them
it's not the floodlit streets,
wars, fires or anger I see
but the trees and fields;
the peace i wear like a glove,
vowing not to take it off the
minute things get tough.
Jan 2016 · 990
fall
katie Jan 2016
rain continues to fall
on and on window
battered like a steel
drum and you don't
get used to it there's
something unsettling
about rain that runs
for days makes you
wonder about the state
of the oceans
are they still full or
has all the water gone,
congregated here on
our lips and skin so
much coming in my
gut is full to the brim,
i cough and it's a horror
movie; schools of krill,
seagrass, algae.
Jan 2016 · 966
air
katie Jan 2016
air
i want to crawl
out of my skin
air my blood vessels,
calm their restless
nerves, drinking only
makes it worse
i choose to merge
muscles with elements
hot to cold,
snow covered
organs breathing
on their own,
and when i
put them back in
the blood beats
differently,
on the bus rides & in
the traffic jams
i smell tree pines,
fells, mountains
Jan 2016 · 1.1k
gone
katie Jan 2016
a scientist on the radio
says in three decades  
a coastal town will      
be submerged in water.  
i picture seaside resorts
& promenades absorbed
& know the same fate
awaits this city, as sea
hungrily consumes
coast it looks to us,
our bones, our docks
& ports, parliaments
& courts, our isle added
to a pile of things extinct.
a future where children are
driftwood blown ashore
with foreign tongues
& dreams of sea;
reluctantly coming up
for air jealous of all the
creatures that get to
stay down there.
Jan 2016 · 8.1k
Willow
katie Jan 2016
The willow hangs,
drapes the ground,
dances to a tune
unheard in the hum
of cars and lorries,
in the commotion of
people passing in a
hurry, barely noticing
anything more than the
phones tapped with
fingers & thumbs.
But I notice,
I see it all,
the dance on display,
the symbol of sanity
I need today.
Dec 2015 · 1.0k
rain
katie Dec 2015
This rain is torrential,
an endless purge
from Heaven,
no warning of its coming,
no clouds breaking
over the horizon
it is sudden & we are
no longer people,
  but fish swimming
in a vast ocean.
We wonder what we did
  to deserve this
as roads twist into rivers  
& we sink to our knees
  praying for it to ease.
Days pass then weeks,
  money floats along streams
& we shed clothes & phones,
  forgetting we were once
professionals with important
roles, in this fishbowl
we glimpse each others soul.
Dec 2015 · 2.6k
distant
katie Dec 2015
If I seem distant it's
because I am.
I abandon this city
like rain down gutters
trying to get back
to a home, a field, a shore,
no traffic, no smoke
where air is pure
& lungs breathe deep,
in a rhythm
untarnished by
tarmac & brick;
modernity's grip
that looks for life
& buries it, forgets
Earth has a pulse
a heart that beats
beneath us.
Oct 2015 · 1.3k
breathe
katie Oct 2015
The cold comes in,
ricochets like a
tennis ball
off every
corner, crevice
pore, stormy
gusts of wind
I breathe in,
skin is no
barrier I am
the elements
carrier, organs
coastal &
lungs tidal sea,
I am nature
& nature is me.
Sep 2015 · 1.6k
Suicidal
katie Sep 2015
This is my family
splayed out like a fox
caught in the headlights of a
passing car, all brown fur
& wandering teeth,
dried up & tossed on a lonely street.
Left behind unaware of
the wreckage caused,
the family bereft of a sister
 & daughter so loved.
That's what I see from the clouds,
from my imagined suicide.
I see a lost family
trying not to stare at a
huge empty chair.
A Christmas table now a shadow,
not a celebration but a day to fear
& that stops any thoughts I
might have about trying to
disappear.
Jul 2015 · 11.0k
Cosmic girl
katie Jul 2015
When I was small
I walked on fairy dust and
my dreams were as tall
as skyscrapers towering
above the universe
inside of me, was the galaxy.
I was born of the cosmos,
full of light and love
passionate in my quest to
give this to others.
But as I grew my star began to fade,
stars need love and light to survive
and deprived of both my blazing fire
transformed into weak candlelight.
At school I had learnt it was easier
to hide your light
than to stand out as different
and be extinguished in an instant.
So I kept myself to myself
at the back of the class,
knowing the answers but not
shouting them out.
I daydreamed, and doodled
stars on the corners
of my books, all the while
I could hear the universe
calling out to me to trust,
that we are all born of this
cosmic stardust.
Jul 2015 · 631
craving
katie Jul 2015
I watch freedom dangling on a fishing hook
from a rusty nail outside my door.
Swinging to and fro it calls to me
in a tantalising tone
to take a piece.
To savour the sweet nectar it hides within
but I slip right past
because I've already eaten.
You see I've heard freedom is an acquired taste,
it's something you have to really want
and many just waste.
Although I crave it deep within my soul,
the taste is not worth the toll
and the gruel I get is fine enough,
I could last a lifetime on this stuff.
Jul 2015 · 728
Your Eyes
katie Jul 2015
When you write please tell me about your eyes,
How they look in the clear night skies,
Or the hot sunny days.
Ask others what they see,
and then tell me,
Because I'm desperate to remember,
You see i'm forgetting the very thing,
that held me together.
Jul 2015 · 3.8k
nails
katie Jul 2015
My nails are a mess,
but not a mess like a 2 week perfect manicure 'mess',
a mess like chipped old blue nail varnish
where I have picked away at it.
A mess like peeling skin
when anxiety from deep within
has resulted in me absentmindedly scratching
until I am awoken by crimson blood,
pooling on pale flesh.
I grab a cloth and sigh,
as I realise I will now have to hide
my hands from onlookers,
who will probably tut disprovingly
because I'm a girl you see,
and it's my duty to present myself beautifully.
To be perfect on the outside, but how can that be?
You see my hands bear the scars that are inside of me.
You can't just paint over scars and expect to be free.

— The End —