It happened on a night when
the moon was most likely bright and
she with Eros were looking down upon me,
thought they were blessing my tummy.

You loved me at the worst possible time
you loved me at the best possible time
you loved me, so now I'm never alone
no matter where I go

Weeks pass me without blessing
I am shaken, unbalanced
I am off and I know it.
Mother lifted my curse
and mother gave me a curse
I carry it with me all of the time
and after it has left me,
I will carry it in my heart until the end of time.

You went to your uncle's funeral two weeks ago
and we will attend mine in a few more
We'll say goodbye to a part of me
I'll say goodbye to the best part of me
We'll say goodbye to a piece of us

Now water still flows through
water and blood still connect me and you but
do you know soon you will rust?

Some would call it parasitic,
but I believe it slightly more mutualistic;
I give up everything for your tiny tummy
I'd give up anything for your tiny heart
that seems to beat 1,000 times per few seconds
1,000 miles deep within me,
so I will never be able to reach you
let alone help you
So this is my sincerest apology
to the love of my life
who never could come to be
and I will be carrying
all your 1,000 heart beats
and on me they crush down upon
the only home you have ever known
a thousand pounds heavy
but not nearly as heavy as
that pill in my hand
and my heart
as we said goodbye
to the best part of me.

Today I'm happy.
Today I am Super Woman.
Today I scaled Mount Everest
and nothing could touch me,
nothing could shake my impermeable bliss,
today nothing could bring me down
from being so high.
And then you came along
and you
you stole away my breath,
made me aware of my elevation.
So, terrified, I jumped.
Now I'm tumbling down
the tallest mountain in the world
and the closer I get
to the
ground
the less I care
that I am
falling.

I am the human embodiment of
self-contempt and
malice,
a fleshy, smelly manifestation of
nostalgia and
desolation
devoid of any remnants of
love or
security,
containing a soul which
spits,
snarls,
screams
for something more than this-
this abyss
this blackness
and I am standing here
screaming
"No!"
to what I have been given
I do not want it, I give it back
because there has to be something more
somewhere

Women like me do not fall gracefully,
we stumble over our spines, trip over
our vowels, and collapse into your arms.

Our hearts are open books,
Russian novels containing fifty pages
on the way your voice drifts across
the telephone wires each night.
Our hearts are first drafts,
unedited verses about each and every
person we have ever loved: the stranger
on the subway, the girl who gave us a balloon,
the boy who stole our virginity
but not our heart.

Women like me will love you from a distance
of a thousand syllables while laying in your bed,
we will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible,
and when we leave you will finally understand
why storms are named after people.

- Katrina M.K