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Kate Dec 2019
I'm a stone fruit without any flesh
Raw and drained
I sit under the moon
She is milky and full
I see her face for the first time

I dream of being reborn in her moonlight
The soft grey shadows falling behind me
Shadows I will never see

I beg the stars to be my guardians
Each a messenger
A talisman
A treasure

Tonight I want to be delivered my fortune
To be full again like a plum
Kate Nov 2019
I'm a flower in concrete
My history deep in dust
Brightness is calling
The future is a tower to climb
Kate Nov 2019
Look deeply into my eyes
Get lost
Take note of how I feel
now that
My husband has died

Everything is grief
Everything is silent

I watch the light fall behind the trees again
Every day the light calls to me
Keep going
This can't be my death bed

I am made of salt
and bone

I am writing a book
By living
Kate Oct 2019
There is no right way
To **** your old life
To stare at a blank slate
And dream of possible colours
There is no time that doesn't beat loudly
Beating with the noise of 100 stroppy women
Women who have paved the way for you
Begging you to follow on and reach your potential
Kate Oct 2019
This is the ending
your vows foreshadowed
you sung out
'til our story is told'
and here I am
writing the final chapter

The storms stop today
give me solace
as I burst open
like a dark spell

Your last embrace
burrowed deep into my shoulder
you were trying to find ground
I looked to the ceiling
begged it to crack open
to rain down dust upon us
celestial beings to steal me away from this
horrifying outcome

From this

I need a waiata
I need a war cry
I need to summon a god
across the water
Kate Sep 2019
I lay awake
And listen to the storm of my life
The trees of the past are scraping against the house
And the wild wind feels painful
It's rained for thirty days

My writing mothers me the way nothing can
or ever has or ever will
Unless it's myself

I talk to the shadow of the lamp in my room
The shadow of the lamp lit
only by a little moonlight
The moonlight is small like me


I'm left with nothing but rain
snails to look out for on the front steps.
Kate Jul 2019
How'd I find myself here
In July
This winter lasts forever
and colours don't sing to me anymore
I tell the circle of trust
I don't want to 'be'
The sick theme of
Twenty Nineteen

I made promises to myself
that haven't come true
(because of you)
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