Rain (spoken word) –

I woke up to summer
With a cold autumn breeze
chasing after you
and collecting leaves.

Like a five year old boy,
terrified of clowns,
you couldn’t wait to break me down.

I allowed you to drown me,
in all your pain.
Hoping that would keep your anger away.
Placed on a pedestal,
I held on tight.
Praying for the day,
you would grant me
the life
I should have known,
should have lived.
All you had to do was give.

Give up your lovers
and give me the light.
The light that use to shine so bright
Upon this house,
you decorated with picture perfect lies.
Upon this fire
is the place I would hang drawings and stockings,
You never seemed to be amazed-
By the grace I gave you everyday.
But now I left you walking
in the cold pouring rain.

Bones (an iffy spoken word) –

Some nights
I really hate sleeping alone.
Between the insecurities and pointless anxieties,
Having another body there eases it all.
However,
Sleeping alone means no unwanted boys
Are trying to jump my bones.

Cigarettes –

I looked down and there was a wind underneath me.
You
left the taste of cigarette breath
between my teeth.
I wasn’t expecting a camp fire love song.
you weren’t expecting your life to last this long.
278 days and we were caught in flames,
burned by the passion we couldn’t create.
Like a puff of air, you disappeared.
I felt you gone, but you still seemed to be here.
Pulling the trigger, bam.
I wear a new skin-
vulnerability.
Solidarity has left me,
Cold.
Colorless.
Like the night I watched life leave the body that you once possessed.

Dating A Ghost (spoken word) –

Five months with you
Was like staring at the same stars every night but still being amazed by how they shined against the same black night sky.
The first time we kissed,
You apologized for getting a boner.
We made out for three hours like horny teenagers too afraid to go further.
Ever since that first kiss, I vanished inside you.
Whenever your lips grazed mine after that night,
It still felt like that first time.
I had you. And you had me.
We were content for a moment.
A few weeks later, you began to unpack your soul –
Always leaving it at home.
This beautiful body was walking around filled with bones,
But still managed to be
Completely hollow.
Ghost like.
My friend one day said, “Katie, you talk about him as if he is already deceased.”
Everyday you became more like a machine.
Just going through the motions like you will always be living like this.
We ended up developing a normal routine with very limited speaking.
Every night was predictable but that was okay with me.
Because even after life escaped you,
Your silky brown eyes still shimmered like a starry night.
Your hands still felt as if there was blood running through them.
Your body was able to create a beautiful rhythm that still damages me every time somebody tries to mimic it.
There isn’t another pair of eyes that can pry yours from my brain.
Or another smile to drive me insane.
And even though you are practically the walking dead the most I ever felt alive was when your body was next to mine-
Lying still. Slowly breathing.
The nights I am at my worse I still feel waves of you running through me,
Those nights I mistake my pillow for your chest;
Both without a heartbeat.

Tahoe Blues –

My favorite place
Will always be
Nights spent fast asleep
Lying next to you
In the back of your mothers Tahoe.
When you whispered,
“You’re beautiful”
That’s when I knew,
I am ridiculously in love with you.

Things I Couldn’t Tell You So You Wouldn’t Kill Yourself (spoken word) –

The most self destructing thing I could do
Is allow myself to keep “loving” you –
To be afraid of the next boy’s lips who will soon erase you.
Or next boys hips who will graze mine.
I can picture our memories
Vividly and out loud.
These blues and pretty hues
Are turning into nothing but grey and fuzz.
You’ve managed to make me hate myself
Without speaking to me.
I have ripped apart my personality
Hoping I would find the problem.
Sherlocks latest discovery tells me
To tell you,
Fuck you.
You should have been destroyed from the inside out.
You should have laid in bed for days on end
Praying that I would come back.
You should be scared of another girls touch.
Because not even your needles will love you as much as I do.

Casting –

I’ve always modeled myself after
The stereotypical female lead –
Someone people genuinely enjoy.
Not the girl who gets thrown away
Like a cheap, dollar store toy.

Gold –

I’ve been told
I deserve to be treated like gold;
So if you’re going to treat me like silver
Then please take a number.
I will get to you eventually.

Behavior –

Self love is a learned trait,
But all I’ve learned is self hate –
When you never get taken out
But instead get taken back to their bed;
When just as soon as you rest
On his chest,
It’s seen as a written invitation for pleasure,
His pleasure,
To begin.
This is when your mind starts to race,
“He doesn’t even care about me in the first place.”
But when these two father like strangers walk in,
They start to make you whole again.
You start to love the greatness they see.
You learn self destruction is a trait you don’t need.