I wrote a fuckload of poetry... you bastard.
Devoid
If I could own myself
As well as I own criticism
Indiscretion,
Earth-drenching self pity
Rain clouds of materialism and jealousy
I could be half
Of what I value myself to be
If I could tear
A fresh sheet of paper
Dog-ear a book page
And begin from where
I want
I would be half
Of what could write a symphony
Could I compose myself
Enough
To compose something beautiful
with this mind,
and this illustrious,
fleshy idealized organ?
I have as much faith
As work ethic.
I am the predictable ending.
I say,
I intend,
I fall through like an unkempt roof.
I walk like I am on a cloud.
I fall face first on cold tile.
I intend.
Silhouette
I want to see contrast
of spun gold
red-orange-yellow collage
and darkened pines
the tallest thing in sight.
I want stars to creep
In a ten minute period
And my hot breath
To be all that separates
Me from stars.
I want the currency
humans cannot fabricate
the tale around a fireplace
and the awe of
an audience in rapture
at the simple retelling
of such a sight.
I will sign myself away
for this scene.
Anything bold enough
To create pine-sky
Silhouettes.
Anything pure enough
To make alcohol
Poison in its presence
To erase self-deprication
To purge indulgence
Because I don’t
Have to prove myself
To the horizon.
If Everything Were Fireworks
It would not be a tale of loved
And lost
It would not be a song of dull
Or tossed.
Life would be the light
And brevity it should be
I would be the beauty
That you’ve always seen in me.
If everything were fireworks.
Words would not mean half
As much
Visual beauty would be at everyone’s
Touch.
We would be jaded
But we well as might be
It would be okay to be fleeting
As with me things tend to be.
If everything were
If everything were fireworks.
I imagine if I were a tree,
I would not want to die idly.
I’d prefer to die in flame
Light up the darkness around me.
And if I could prove
half as much as I’d like to
We would have that flame
And a song to dance to.
If everything were fireworks,
I promise
I could prove
All that I’d like to
We would have this flame
And a song to dance to.
Always, the song to dance to.
The Fire Tree
You and I
And a pot of honey
Underneath the fire tree.
Spoken words
And cartwheels maybe
Underneath the fire tree.
You swear you will dream of me
I know what my dreams will be
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
I often gaze
Off towards the sea
Far off past the fire tree.
I sometimes hear
The words you sing me
From far off past the fire tree.
You swear you will dream of me
I know what my dreams will be
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
I gaze into your
Fire eyes, all surprise
I’ll show at your door
You and I, You and I
You will dream right next to me
As we sleep under this fire tree
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
My Mind.
You, who sobbed dryly on closet floors
who keeps from closest friends your ability to feel
are holding on to me in the strangest of ways;
you love my mind, you say.
if you knew how it crept up on you
went through your house but left no print
how i blame it for so much in your case,
you would not love its taste
it broods, it affects my heart
like the sky and hot air darken before storm
it knows much more of breaking you
than hearts and tears do
perhaps that is why this is all retrospect
and you are all in awe
..or maybe i cannot love myself
after overthinking you at all
all in one days work. uh huh.
-katie-
If I could own myself
As well as I own criticism
Indiscretion,
Earth-drenching self pity
Rain clouds of materialism and jealousy
I could be half
Of what I value myself to be
If I could tear
A fresh sheet of paper
Dog-ear a book page
And begin from where
I want
I would be half
Of what could write a symphony
Could I compose myself
Enough
To compose something beautiful
with this mind,
and this illustrious,
fleshy idealized organ?
I have as much faith
As work ethic.
I am the predictable ending.
I say,
I intend,
I fall through like an unkempt roof.
I walk like I am on a cloud.
I fall face first on cold tile.
I intend.
Silhouette
I want to see contrast
of spun gold
red-orange-yellow collage
and darkened pines
the tallest thing in sight.
I want stars to creep
In a ten minute period
And my hot breath
To be all that separates
Me from stars.
I want the currency
humans cannot fabricate
the tale around a fireplace
and the awe of
an audience in rapture
at the simple retelling
of such a sight.
I will sign myself away
for this scene.
Anything bold enough
To create pine-sky
Silhouettes.
Anything pure enough
To make alcohol
Poison in its presence
To erase self-deprication
To purge indulgence
Because I don’t
Have to prove myself
To the horizon.
If Everything Were Fireworks
It would not be a tale of loved
And lost
It would not be a song of dull
Or tossed.
Life would be the light
And brevity it should be
I would be the beauty
That you’ve always seen in me.
If everything were fireworks.
Words would not mean half
As much
Visual beauty would be at everyone’s
Touch.
We would be jaded
But we well as might be
It would be okay to be fleeting
As with me things tend to be.
If everything were
If everything were fireworks.
I imagine if I were a tree,
I would not want to die idly.
I’d prefer to die in flame
Light up the darkness around me.
And if I could prove
half as much as I’d like to
We would have that flame
And a song to dance to.
If everything were fireworks,
I promise
I could prove
All that I’d like to
We would have this flame
And a song to dance to.
Always, the song to dance to.
The Fire Tree
You and I
And a pot of honey
Underneath the fire tree.
Spoken words
And cartwheels maybe
Underneath the fire tree.
You swear you will dream of me
I know what my dreams will be
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
I often gaze
Off towards the sea
Far off past the fire tree.
I sometimes hear
The words you sing me
From far off past the fire tree.
You swear you will dream of me
I know what my dreams will be
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
I gaze into your
Fire eyes, all surprise
I’ll show at your door
You and I, You and I
You will dream right next to me
As we sleep under this fire tree
I’ll make you promise it’ll rain tonight
and when it does it falls down sweetly
We’ll be a drenched and peaceful sight
As water falls elaborately.
My Mind.
You, who sobbed dryly on closet floors
who keeps from closest friends your ability to feel
are holding on to me in the strangest of ways;
you love my mind, you say.
if you knew how it crept up on you
went through your house but left no print
how i blame it for so much in your case,
you would not love its taste
it broods, it affects my heart
like the sky and hot air darken before storm
it knows much more of breaking you
than hearts and tears do
perhaps that is why this is all retrospect
and you are all in awe
..or maybe i cannot love myself
after overthinking you at all
all in one days work. uh huh.
-katie-