WRITER & BLOGGER
if you catch a glimpse —
of a girl, blonde and bronzed —
will you call out her name?
if you call out her name —
will you break her heart —
or will you keep away?
if i ever see you again —
whether on earth or in sky —
no worries, not now, not today.
for that girl you broke,
blonde, bronzed, strong —
well…
she’s the girl that got away.
sometimes i wonder if
my heart is a black hole
that sucks everything
into it and spits it
to where no one knows
sometimes i wonder if
my skin is just a sheath
that protects a knife
of pointy bones and a
set of blood red teeth
sometimes i wonder if
my eyes are a silky veil
that conceals all that
is within and outside
my porcelain thin shell
my mind is made of glass:
in the light a warm glow,
in the dark cold shadow.
my heart is made of ice:
hemorrhaged drop by drop,
crystalized with frost.
my soul is made of webs:
swayed and swept by the breeze,
withered by a pale freeze.
but nothing is
never will be
as fragile as
human
ego.
juxtapositions
i want to be found,
though i am always lost;
i wish for a blush of love,
yet i cannot bear the cost.
i ache for more time,
though i demand it gone;
i hide in fear of the night,
yet i never see the dawn.
i wait for tomorrow,
though the present goes on by;
i feel so numb to it all,
yet i always say i’m fine.
i dream in sweet color,
though i see black and white;
i hate it when i am wrong,
yet i will never be right.
i wonder if i’ll see you again,
but i think i’ve lost my mind…Continue reading “juxtapositions (a poem)”
i don’t understand myself,
and i probably never will;
these oceans of chaos within me,
and a desire for any little thrill.
i hate how people are so selfish,
yet i’m the most selfish of them all;
you wonder why i never talk to you,
and i wonder why you never call.
i know i’m a walking contradiction,
and my weary legs can’t take much more;
yet my brain refuses to run idle,
even though my muscles have grown sore.
yet i want this life i live,
despite the pain i have caused;
the scars became my memories,
in the midst of all my flaws.
there’s something inside me,
crawling up my spine;
it webs and weaves within me,
searching for my mind.
it grows and grows deeper,
into my bloated organs;
at times it shocks electric,
and others it lies dormant.
there’s something in my lungs,
and it burrows into my skin;
it chokes and stings my cells,
a reminder of my flesh and sin.
it grows and grows inside me,
deepening while i sleep;
it conspires to take me over,
but never will i let it kill me!
bones blown from magic,
and a swing made from wood;
slowly wind pushes you,
and your heart misunderstood.
natural decomposition,
and a thought of childhood;
your ankles lightly dangle,
and you hang beneath elmwood.
collagen, ossein,
and a breeze to help you sway;
dead flowers bloom inside you,
and bake in the light of midday.
ashes to ashes,
and your skeleton in decay;
dust to dust,
and yet you wish for yesterday.
some things grow strong;
others go weak:
some things taste sour;
others taste sweet.
some tastes are fiery;
others melt away:
some tastes feel bittersweet;
others slowly fade.
some feelings are certain;
others drip doubt:
some feelings satiate;
and others fizzle out.
off the beaten path i went,
escaping those from whom i hid.
as soon as I heard that voice,
i knew i just had to go off the grid.
sometimes my skin crawls,
and sometimes it softens.
but that voice inside my head,
how i wish it could be forgotten!
but that’s not how life works,
i learn, mile after mile after mile.
how i want to bury my phone,
take those names off speed dial.
but some numbers don’t vanish,
no matter the time nor distance;
so then i do what i do best,
and take the path of least resistance…
little fingers reach for the moon,
but catch empty space instead;
little toes ache for freedom,
but sink deeper into the sand.
little lungs breathe in and out,
a stubborn exhale and expand;
little teeth smile and frown,
an invitation to a foreign land.
…
my heart burns and blisters,
wanting what it cannot have;
but my brain sings and whistles,
when i consider what i have instead.
my eyes, they sting and water,
powered by emotion’s command;
but my voice calls out:
“oh, the joy in a world unplanned!”
Katie Kay 