Submissions by solve_et_coagula (Katherine)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
dirt
I want to know the exact moment you buried what we had
tamped it down with a lost-love stained boot.
did you fight back tears
did the shovel bite your hands
what I really want to know
is did you feel like giving up on everything because you couldn’t have us?
take me back to that moment
were you wearing that stupid shirt I hate
and those jeans I love with the tear in the knee?
did it rain all day (I feel like it was probably sunny, hot, empty)
I want to know the the date, the time, the second
because I want to know how much wasted effort I...
tamped it down with a lost-love stained boot.
did you fight back tears
did the shovel bite your hands
what I really want to know
is did you feel like giving up on everything because you couldn’t have us?
take me back to that moment
were you wearing that stupid shirt I hate
and those jeans I love with the tear in the knee?
did it rain all day (I feel like it was probably sunny, hot, empty)
I want to know the the date, the time, the second
because I want to know how much wasted effort I...
677 reads
1 Comment
Don't.
ripe and heavy you hang
belly dragging the ground
full of ache.
I will stroke the warmth
make eye contact
smile
and then slit you from ankle to collarbone
just like you did
to me.
belly dragging the ground
full of ache.
I will stroke the warmth
make eye contact
smile
and then slit you from ankle to collarbone
just like you did
to me.
529 reads
1 Comment
Countdown.
1048 reads
3 Comments
Breaking the fast
You say I'm starting to look like I'm all angles-
10th grade geometry textbook style and
that makes me
nervous.
Your mock-concerned compliment is an incantation that makes meat fall from bone
and my hands shake counting critical teaspoons.
My fingers seek out my negative spaces and yours sink into my newly erupting hipbones.
Nourishment is just a number.
Victory means netting zero
going to bed aching
growling
strong.
As I shrink, I become more visible.
10th grade geometry textbook style and
that makes me
nervous.
Your mock-concerned compliment is an incantation that makes meat fall from bone
and my hands shake counting critical teaspoons.
My fingers seek out my negative spaces and yours sink into my newly erupting hipbones.
Nourishment is just a number.
Victory means netting zero
going to bed aching
growling
strong.
As I shrink, I become more visible.
518 reads
1 Comment
Or.
I wake up weak.
watery late afternoon light paints everything pale and sick
the air conditioning hasn’t kicked on in hours.
sweat has beaded and dried itself
we’re not going to make it this time
I turn and face the wall
I need a shower
———-
or a gun
watery late afternoon light paints everything pale and sick
the air conditioning hasn’t kicked on in hours.
sweat has beaded and dried itself
we’re not going to make it this time
I turn and face the wall
I need a shower
———-
or a gun
699 reads
3 Comments
Wednesday.
Some days I wake up
exhausted, pulling air in my lungs is like fingering the pin on a grenade
and I almost just do it.
Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to explode?
My heart isn't in it when I stand naked
under the gleaming metal fixture, water pouring just to cleanse and renew,
refresh and revive,
but no matter how many gallons I swallow, it's just not reaching the dirtiest part of me.
I'd empty this town's water tower twice over and still I'd be left with the murkiest insides.
exhausted, pulling air in my lungs is like fingering the pin on a grenade
and I almost just do it.
Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to explode?
My heart isn't in it when I stand naked
under the gleaming metal fixture, water pouring just to cleanse and renew,
refresh and revive,
but no matter how many gallons I swallow, it's just not reaching the dirtiest part of me.
I'd empty this town's water tower twice over and still I'd be left with the murkiest insides.
602 reads
1 Comment
Miracle
we'll skip hellos and how ya beens
that shit has never mattered to people like
us
we only see things as they are
underneath that small talk hangs a scent of things you want to say
and that I am dying to hear.
I'd wait forever just to see
what might have been.
tickled pink by your fiery red
this is where I belong.
nestled inside the crook of your arm is where I find faith.
I don't think I believe in a god but then again
I think there must be one
because my hand on your face feels nothing short of a leper-curing, blind-healing,
miracle.
that shit has never mattered to people like
us
we only see things as they are
underneath that small talk hangs a scent of things you want to say
and that I am dying to hear.
I'd wait forever just to see
what might have been.
tickled pink by your fiery red
this is where I belong.
nestled inside the crook of your arm is where I find faith.
I don't think I believe in a god but then again
I think there must be one
because my hand on your face feels nothing short of a leper-curing, blind-healing,
miracle.
582 reads
1 Comment
weak.
I travel back 9 Aprils
Grip the doe-eyed girl I was
And moments before shaking her
I embrace her instead.
She is weak and I know that now.
He says it's been a long time since he wanted anyone bad enough to just take them.
I taste metal and bite down hard, copper tinged spit.
I spark and it lights up the night.
Grip the doe-eyed girl I was
And moments before shaking her
I embrace her instead.
She is weak and I know that now.
He says it's been a long time since he wanted anyone bad enough to just take them.
I taste metal and bite down hard, copper tinged spit.
I spark and it lights up the night.
570 reads
2 Comments
gesundheit
spiteful syllables
The levee breaks, tear driven.
Spitting out the bone.
Dance on your feelings
Momentary spite can sting
I will ignore it.
Poison tipped arrows
Aimed to wound, not kill, but oh
Sensitive skin breaks.
Climax-voices clash
winding down to silence now
Anger drains from you
Temper cools for now
We lock eyes again
I wear a blanket of shame
So useless to yell
We return to our corners
Sharpening our claws.
Arms embrace for once
So sorry we became this
Tangible love...
The levee breaks, tear driven.
Spitting out the bone.
Dance on your feelings
Momentary spite can sting
I will ignore it.
Poison tipped arrows
Aimed to wound, not kill, but oh
Sensitive skin breaks.
Climax-voices clash
winding down to silence now
Anger drains from you
Temper cools for now
We lock eyes again
I wear a blanket of shame
So useless to yell
We return to our corners
Sharpening our claws.
Arms embrace for once
So sorry we became this
Tangible love...
622 reads
3 Comments
I feel pretentious trying to think up titles for things that just come to me.
remember the light her eyes held when
her whispers slipped down your neck and settled just
at your collarbone
nestled there all along, you cupped them in your hands
the days you fought
and the night she
left.
her whispers slipped down your neck and settled just
at your collarbone
nestled there all along, you cupped them in your hands
the days you fought
and the night she
left.
547 reads
2 Comments
Ignis fatuus.
I continuously leap into the flames for You.
You sit idly by
and add kindling
to the fire.
You sit idly by
and add kindling
to the fire.
616 reads
3 Comments
Tuesday.
six hours smudging our names into constellations and rubbing clouds between our fingertips
we fought daybreak with imaginary swords, plunged the blade into that scorching, dying star
we grabbed the fading edges of that meteor spattered blanket and we jerked it over the horizon
but the sun fought back and we grew tired
and I could see the exact moment the magic of what we’d just done left your eyes
you fell asleep and I twirled blades of dew soaked grass between my toes
good things end for other people before they do for me.
you’d think that would be a good thing...
we fought daybreak with imaginary swords, plunged the blade into that scorching, dying star
we grabbed the fading edges of that meteor spattered blanket and we jerked it over the horizon
but the sun fought back and we grew tired
and I could see the exact moment the magic of what we’d just done left your eyes
you fell asleep and I twirled blades of dew soaked grass between my toes
good things end for other people before they do for me.
you’d think that would be a good thing...
584 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by solve_et_coagula (Katherine)