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Katy Turner Jul 2013
My nails are perfectly manicured, and nice to look at,
But they took ten minutes to start punching the keyboard.

Lethargy is not beautiful.

They had no trouble gripping the stem of the martini I mixed,
With a few of the pickled ingredients that were supposed to mask the heavily peppered *****,
But my lips still burn with every dipping.

Only after settling on self-indulgence,
Did I start pressing down on the sticky keys.
I used a lot of commas,
And I painted satisfactorily crap images,
that would allow me to describe destruction.

This rotten passage lets me fantasize about slamming my laptop shut,
Gripping the end between my two fat lazy hands,
And slamming it against the ****** living room wall
That separates me from my ****** bedroom.

My words are violent,
But that just isn't enough.

When you can’t blame emotions on a subject, or a person,
You can transfer them to something physical.
You can crumple it, shatter it, burn it.
You can destroy and indulge in your heavy soul.

You can self-deprecate


This is a work in progress.
Katy Turner Oct 2012
His fist closed around her hair pulling her head back so he could easily kiss her neck.
And she sighed.

The stubble scraped as they moved against her pumping artery.
And she sighed once more.

Her eyelids fluttered, open and shut,
until she sighed and gently pushed him away.

"You are doing it all wrong," she said.
"Only I know how to touch me."
"Only I know how to love me."
Katy Turner Oct 2012
sometimes i wish i could submerge myself in vanity. i could find solace in obsession, in hilighted hair, acrylic nails. my scars could be airbrush spray-tanned, and my fake eyelashes would remind my eyes to stay open. i could walk around like a peacock, strutting for attraction while i move for distraction; anything to keep me busy, to keep me from laying in bed at 7 p.m. because there's nothing better to do. if i had worn makeup, i would have been forced to get up, to wash my face, to move. but now i think i'll just continue here, dreaming of pretty me's, pretty days, and a different tomorrow. today wasnt bad, it just wasn't anything. if I was vain at least my fake smile would be bleached.
Katy Turner Oct 2012
I promise I don’t love you,
Not how I did,
With immature giddiness
And worship.

I promise I don’t want you,
Not how I had,
With every dumb fiber of my
Body, my soul.

I swear to you I am ok
Alone. Unlike those days
We were apart; those days
We were together.

And honestly,
Half the time I think of you,
I feel guilty.

It isn’t out of love.
Katy Turner Oct 2012
Let me walk with no agenda
to where the failed days are still rewarding.

No judgment,
no burden, no façade.

Let me take off all that is me
and become what is meant to be,
Who is meant to be.

Let me drop what is now and
run to the woods,
my solace, my love.

Let me rise with the sun and let it warm my heart
like you never could.

Let me sing with the barred owl at dawn,
and let me scream my lament with the crows.

Let the dew upon my feet be the tears
that wouldn’t fall.
I wipe them off so easily.

I am the moon, I am the sun,
the displaying turkey, the loping deer.
I am the morel living with the dead.

Let me be the maple,
the bramble, the peat.

Oh just let me be.
Let me be me.

In my home.
In the woods.

With the answer.
Katy Turner Oct 2012
it doesn’t make sensE
it doesn’t feel righT

like brushing froM
end to rooT

similar to runninG
up the descendinG

exhausted. It doesn’t makE
sense. Craving yoU

sighing. Writing a poeM
when i should bE

writing truths. howlinG
thrashing, Despising, but sittinG

transferring thoughts on whY
it doesn’t make sensE
Katy Turner Oct 2012
I am dead.

My legs are broken
And my mind has betrayed me.


I hear the screaming.

I try to make it stop
But still


I rip my eyes open,
The air is acid.
Time is rushing through
My disoriented state
Wasting away like
I am.

My lead arm strains
And my lips groan
As I reach
To stop the torment.


The stomach rises and falls.
The fingers move,
The shoulders roll.

My left knee bends as it
Battles over the precipice.
The right grudgingly follows

My dead body spasms
I scream,
I expand,
I unfold,
I get out of bed.
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