stormykatie - My Beautiful Bleeding Pieces
stormykatie
My Beautiful Bleeding Pieces

I'll try to write my way out

594 posts

Stormykatie - My Beautiful Bleeding Pieces - Tumblr Blog

stormykatie
2 years ago

If we will ever come to a point where goodbye is inevitable, I will not ask you to teach me how to forget. Instead, I will ask you to show me how to remember. We made so many beautiful memories together, it's a shame to erase them all just because we have to part, and can no longer go back to the beginning to fall in love again. No, no matter how much it will hurt, I won't ask you to teach me how to forget. I will walk all the paths we've trodden and remember how your laughter sounded, how your fingers curled around mine, how your hair smelled under the sun, how your lips tasted. I will remember every bit of you, so when I am finally ready to let go, I can let all of you go the way I've let all the kites fly away when I was young and life was innocent and gentle and kind.

-let go,

katie, 17:30


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stormykatie
2 years ago
A Woman Is Criminalized

a woman is criminalized

should she decide to

terminate a pregnancy

while a man can back out anytime

such is the reality

i am forced to live by

and so is jessica

and katrina

and amanda

and gabrielle

and thousands of others

in gritted teeth,

i try to swallow back

the bile rising from my throat

i feel nauseated

just thinking about that

night at the parking lot

where my jeans were torn

ferociously from my body

i tremble from the warm

puff of wind blowing

my nape

my boyfriend just learned

the truth this morning

when i threw up

all over the kitchen floor

he was aghast

i tried to reason out

he didn't use protection

because he expected me

to be the one responsible for it

it's a sad world,

gina could only weep now

a sad world for women

but therese tried to play it cool

though the pregnancy test

that screams positive in her face

shatters her composure

she never wanted this

haunting reality

but her neighbor had forced

himself on her one drunken night

an episode she's trying to drown

in a deadly shot of alcohol

it's a cruel world

but rachel is carrying her seventh child

seventh child!

as though the six she bore

aren't too many

rita had her second child today

via c-section

a procedure she could barely afford

but her labor seemed longer

than the death march

she was not able to bear down

so a cut suddenly became

a logical procedure

it's a cruel world

and dana knew it

the moment she was judged

for not wanting children

thus having her tubes tied

at twenty five

it's a cruel world

for maria

for delia

for claudine

for martha

and thousands

of other women

who have to live with

society's standards

of right and wrong

a woman is criminalized

should she decide to

terminate a pregnancy

while a man can back out anytime

i close my eyes

as i listen to people

with no uterus

decide on my future

-katie

Image: https://wallpaperaccess.com/download/sad-woman-1940837


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stormykatie
2 years ago

"May the heart, in its exhaustion, remember to rest and indulge into the sweet memories of love songs resounding from its yesteryears.

These are the soft rambles that filled your mind as you lay awake in bed at the early hours of dawn. Those austere longings that snared your heart, relentless as the wind blowing on the trees, swift as the waves kissing the sand, tenacious as the rain chiming in with the beat of the music coming from your stereo, they are here—neatly scribbled and compiled into an anthology. These are your stories. The love notes you hastily jotted down at the last page of your high school textbook, the poems you composed during your weekend getaways, the letters you struggled to ink on stationeries while ardently wishing that one day, the love of your life will find and read them.

They are finally here. The long walks on the beach. The late-night conversations. The sultry kisses at the back seat of your car. The lingering glances. The love songs. The promises. The sweet nothings! They are all here, captured in prose and poetry. So, dear reader, bury your nose on the pages with utmost gusto. Whether you are a sojourner, a bold and willing settler, or a classic runaway in love, you’ve had your own share of sweet nothings, I am sure. Allow yourself to remember. Allow yourself to rediscover your youth, relive the love stories that ended, make peace with the pains they caused. Above all, allow yourself to breathe and celebrate the love stories that won over the years and stayed."

-Sweet Nothings,

Ana Grasya

Avail a copy through the following links:

Google Play - https://books.google.co.in/books/about?id=-xhmEAAAQBAJ&redir_esc=y

Ukiyoto All Versions - https://www.ukiyoto.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

Ukiyoto Philippines (for those in the Philippines only) - https://www.ukiyotophilippines.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs


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stormykatie
2 years ago

"May the heart, in its exhaustion, remember to rest and indulge into the sweet memories of love songs resounding from its yesteryears.

These are the soft rambles that filled your mind as you lay awake in bed at the early hours of dawn. Those austere longings that snared your heart, relentless as the wind blowing on the trees, swift as the waves kissing the sand, tenacious as the rain chiming in with the beat of the music coming from your stereo, they are here—neatly scribbled and compiled into an anthology. These are your stories. The love notes you hastily jotted down at the last page of your high school textbook, the poems you composed during your weekend getaways, the letters you struggled to ink on stationeries while ardently wishing that one day, the love of your life will find and read them.

They are finally here. The long walks on the beach. The late-night conversations. The sultry kisses at the back seat of your car. The lingering glances. The love songs. The promises. The sweet nothings! They are all here, captured in prose and poetry. So, dear reader, bury your nose on the pages with utmost gusto. Whether you are a sojourner, a bold and willing settler, or a classic runaway in love, you’ve had your own share of sweet nothings, I am sure. Allow yourself to remember. Allow yourself to rediscover your youth, relive the love stories that ended, make peace with the pains they caused. Above all, allow yourself to breathe and celebrate the love stories that won over the years and stayed."

-Sweet Nothings,

Ana Grasya

Avail a copy through the following links:

Google Play - https://books.google.co.in/books/about?id=-xhmEAAAQBAJ&redir_esc=y

Ukiyoto All Versions - https://www.ukiyoto.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

Ukiyoto Philippines (for those in the Philippines only) - https://www.ukiyotophilippines.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs
"May The Heart, In Its Exhaustion, Remember To Rest And Indulge Into The Sweet Memories Of Love Songs


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stormykatie
2 years ago

It's been a while. I am thrilled to be back to make this announcement: My poetry book, Sweet Nothings is NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE!

"May the heart, in its exhaustion, remember to rest and indulge into the sweet memories of love songs resounding from its yesteryears.

These are the soft rambles that filled your mind as you lay awake in bed at the early hours of dawn. Those austere longings that snared your heart, relentless as the wind blowing on the trees, swift as the waves kissing the sand, tenacious as the rain chiming in with the beat of the music coming from your stereo, they are here—neatly scribbled and compiled into an anthology. These are your stories. The love notes you hastily jotted down at the last page of your high school textbook, the poems you composed during your weekend getaways, the letters you struggled to ink on stationeries while ardently wishing that one day, the love of your life will find and read them.

They are finally here. The long walks on the beach. The late-night conversations. The sultry kisses at the back seat of your car. The lingering glances. The love songs. The promises. The sweet nothings! They are all here, captured in prose and poetry. So, dear reader, bury your nose on the pages with utmost gusto. Whether you are a sojourner, a bold and willing settler, or a classic runaway in love, you’ve had your own share of sweet nothings, I am sure. Allow yourself to remember. Allow yourself to rediscover your youth, relive the love stories that ended, make peace with the pains they caused. Above all, allow yourself to breathe and celebrate the love stories that won over the years and stayed."

Get your copy through the following links:

Ukiyoto All Versions - https://www.ukiyoto.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

Amazon eBook - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WH8PMWN

Amazon Paperback - https://www.amazon.com/dp/9354904491

It's Been A While. I Am Thrilled To Be Back To Make This Announcement: My Poetry Book, Sweet Nothings

Tags :
stormykatie
2 years ago

It's been a while. I am thrilled to be back to make this announcement: My poetry book, Sweet Nothings is NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE!

"May the heart, in its exhaustion, remember to rest and indulge into the sweet memories of love songs resounding from its yesteryears.

These are the soft rambles that filled your mind as you lay awake in bed at the early hours of dawn. Those austere longings that snared your heart, relentless as the wind blowing on the trees, swift as the waves kissing the sand, tenacious as the rain chiming in with the beat of the music coming from your stereo, they are here—neatly scribbled and compiled into an anthology. These are your stories. The love notes you hastily jotted down at the last page of your high school textbook, the poems you composed during your weekend getaways, the letters you struggled to ink on stationeries while ardently wishing that one day, the love of your life will find and read them.

They are finally here. The long walks on the beach. The late-night conversations. The sultry kisses at the back seat of your car. The lingering glances. The love songs. The promises. The sweet nothings! They are all here, captured in prose and poetry. So, dear reader, bury your nose on the pages with utmost gusto. Whether you are a sojourner, a bold and willing settler, or a classic runaway in love, you’ve had your own share of sweet nothings, I am sure. Allow yourself to remember. Allow yourself to rediscover your youth, relive the love stories that ended, make peace with the pains they caused. Above all, allow yourself to breathe and celebrate the love stories that won over the years and stayed."

Get your copy through the following links:

Ukiyoto All Versions - https://www.ukiyoto.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

Amazon eBook - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WH8PMWN

Amazon Paperback - https://www.amazon.com/dp/9354904491

It's Been A While. I Am Thrilled To Be Back To Make This Announcement: My Poetry Book, Sweet Nothings

Tags :
stormykatie
2 years ago

It's been a while. I am thrilled to be back to make this announcement: My poetry book, Sweet Nothings is NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE!

"May the heart, in its exhaustion, remember to rest and indulge into the sweet memories of love songs resounding from its yesteryears.

These are the soft rambles that filled your mind as you lay awake in bed at the early hours of dawn. Those austere longings that snared your heart, relentless as the wind blowing on the trees, swift as the waves kissing the sand, tenacious as the rain chiming in with the beat of the music coming from your stereo, they are here—neatly scribbled and compiled into an anthology. These are your stories. The love notes you hastily jotted down at the last page of your high school textbook, the poems you composed during your weekend getaways, the letters you struggled to ink on stationeries while ardently wishing that one day, the love of your life will find and read them.

They are finally here. The long walks on the beach. The late-night conversations. The sultry kisses at the back seat of your car. The lingering glances. The love songs. The promises. The sweet nothings! They are all here, captured in prose and poetry. So, dear reader, bury your nose on the pages with utmost gusto. Whether you are a sojourner, a bold and willing settler, or a classic runaway in love, you’ve had your own share of sweet nothings, I am sure. Allow yourself to remember. Allow yourself to rediscover your youth, relive the love stories that ended, make peace with the pains they caused. Above all, allow yourself to breathe and celebrate the love stories that won over the years and stayed."

Get your copy through the following links:

Ukiyoto All Versions - https://www.ukiyoto.com/product-page/sweet-nothings

Amazon eBook - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WH8PMWN

Amazon Paperback - https://www.amazon.com/dp/9354904491

It's Been A While. I Am Thrilled To Be Back To Make This Announcement: My Poetry Book, Sweet Nothings

Tags :
stormykatie
3 years ago

When I opened up about

my depression, my ex boyfriend

told me to get an exorcism

Yeah, if I remember it now

I can only laugh

and at the same time,

feel aghast at the ignorance

not just of my ex boyfriend

but of everyone else

who could not stop

the stigma that if you're

depressed, it's probably

because

you don't pray enough

that's why your mind

is so messed up like

paint splatters

Here's the thing, I pray

more than I should

kneel, hands clasped

tightly together as though

my whole life depends on

how firm my fingers could hold

on to one another, lips trembling,

trying to mumble pleas of guidance

to the Almighty, over and over

until I am certain that I am heard

Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt

His divine providence, but just as my anxiety

makes me go back to make

sure I left the door locked, I pray

five times a day to be sure my cries

reach the heavens

I pray harder than anyone I've ever

come across because I don't

wanna lose any chance to be cured

But then the demons still loom

inside my head, they managed

to make it their kingdom

You know one time, I was talking

to a dear friend and he told me,

"it's all in the mind"

My whole being sighed as I tried

to break free from the clutches,

the hands pushing my head deep

into the water, it's all in the mind,

my emotions aren't real

and if I could just snap out of it

then everything would be smooth

sailing, I am just sad

but my mind tends to intensify

that sadness, I overthink every

single thing even the ones I can't

control, and most often than not,

the sinking feeling leads me

to the decision that I am worthless

Grab a razor, a pin, a pair of scissors

anything sharp enough to cut

through my flesh so I could

bleed the negativities out

It's all in the mind, I try to

incorporate it in my mantra

However, just like the prayers

I say five time a day,

it does not work its magic trick on me

They told me I am merely an attention seeker

I am young and always in need of validation

That I always magnify my emotions

to their extremities

So I pull the sleeve of my cardigan

to cover the razor cuts, put on

a smile, okay I look dreadfully fine

The teacher calls me out, "sweetie

isn't it a little hot to be wearing

a cardigan?"

I tell her I am feverish as I feel

sweat dripping at my back

She'll leave me alone

like all of those who are

scared to meet me in the eye

but ended up judging me

I hear too many whispers

behind me, I say I don't mind

but I do, who wouldn't?

I just wish I could run

somewhere or could

disappear before the

stories catch up with me

My mother said I should ignore

people's opinion

for they don't define me, I do

But mama, the words crawl

on my bedroom wall, their

venom stain the pictures hanging,

the curtain, the floor

The noise becomes louder

drowning my heatbeat,

I put a hand over my chest,

It's time to pray again

I pray, pray harder than I used to

Beseech the heavens

to calm the waves devouring me

I repeat the mantra, seventy-seven times

It's all in the mind but the agony

is the realest I've ever felt in this life

I pull my cardigan, I can't bear to see

the cuts this time

I've been addicted long enough

to the sticky blood gushing

It's useless, for the real wound

is invisible

It's invisible

yet mighty enough to shrink

me into an insignificant mess

They all advised me to open up

so I can breathe

But, when I opened up about

my depression, my ex boyfriend

told me to get an exorcism

I am glad I didn't

-when i wore a cardigan at the height of summer, katie

image: https://id.pinterest.com/pin/730849845781054640/

When I Opened Up About

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stormykatie
3 years ago
If I Pass Away,

if i pass away,

my pen will mourn me longer

than my friends will ever do in a lifetime

it will sit cold on my study table,

its own bereavement fester

with the lifeless body buried somewhere

reeking of lost poetry

an ocean of mystery that seems

unsolvable now that the lead vanished

like smoke

it will try to recollect the words

it used to scribble

and the emotions they carry

it will marvel at the depth of the scars

that resonate on the seemingly flawless pieces,

how many times in a day did i survive

the pangs before i decided the culmination

of a barren life

such a tragedy that it could only lie there

thinking of the past as its yearning

to be held burns with the candlestick

-mourn me longer,

katie, 16th of July 2021, 16:45


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stormykatie
3 years ago

December 15, 2019

23:30

Hey, it's me. We talked before. Now I am back to tell you more stories like I promised. My clock reads 11:30. I'm in bed, drinking my third mug of coffee. I am reading your favorite novel. It's silly but I feel nostalgic as I read it. Every chapter reminds me of you, my darling Ana. Your rawness, your beautiful flaws are all engraved in the words stained in each and every page. But before I totally lose myself in it, I feel it appropriate to ask first, how are you doing tonight? 

How are you doing there, in your time? Are you in bed reading too? Or are you in your desk writing the first line of your poem? It's something about him, isn't it? Oh don't worry, I know. 

I know that you think about love more often than you should. And you stain your notes with things associated with it. I want to tell you it's okay. It's okay to savor the moment. It's okay to fall in love. I don't know what age you are now. Maybe 16? All sweet and innocent. You know I fell in love for the first time when I was 16. Got my heart badly broken six months after I turned 18. It was a lot to go through but I survived. After that I stopped writing for a while. 

They say heartbreak makes a poet. Well it made me numb. I never loved again after I got my heart broken for the first time. I watched my shattered pieces,millions of screaming pieces bleeding on the floor. I spent years trying to mend me. But wholeness seemed evanescent. Lovers came and went, I taught myself to pretend. For years I rolled thousands of I love you's on my tongue while I felt so empty. So empty I wondered if anything could ever fill me up again. For something in me has died that day he ruined my faith in love and destiny. 

But he's a lovely memory. I never regretted loving him. He taught me how to sway in gaiety and laugh with the daffodils. He has to leave all right, and life was never the same. I began drinking when I was 19. I theorized liquor could drown my feelings, wash them all away. Since then I couldn't stop drinking. I took shots after shots as the crowd applaused me until I pass out cold. I was young and broken and stupid. Above all, I was numb. 

At 23, I became totally cynical. I took love for granted. Love took me for granted in return. I played fire like a fire dancer. I got burned but never minded the scars. I slept with lions but never feared death. Those moments, I was gladly signing my death sentence. At 25 I was totally addicted to loneliness. I began dining alone. I began doubting promises. I began driving people to the wall. I began breaking hearts. 

Are you still there?  I hope I am not scaring you with my stories. If I disturbed your poem writing, I'm deeply sorry. I just want to feed you tales. Tales you will search in your mind as precedents, before you make a decision sooner or later. Before you catch fire and burn. Before you catch cold and die. You know they always say, look before you leap. Well I say, listen to all these tales I keep. They waited years to be told. 

I was 27 when I realized it's time. It's time to  lower my guards down. It's time to trust love again. But that one person worthy of everything that I am never came until I was 28. And you know, when I caught a glimpse of him for the first time, I fell dazed. The familiarity was striking. The smile, the voice, the scent, oh it's him. He's the one I've been waiting. I looked at him and the world around me stopped. Everything else stopped. All of a sudden, it's just him and me. Even the cacophony fell silent to hear my heart drum erratically. It was surreal. 

We've been going out for months now and it always feels like the first time. It's crazy but I am head over heels in love with him. And you know what's even crazier, I actually got drank one Saturday to tell him what I feel. Oh, don't laugh at me. It's a clumsy move I know. But I was too nervous like a teenager. Too nervous I can't even act cool when he's around. 

Anyway, I hope you're happy my darling Ana. But if you're somewhere trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea, don't fret. Whatever it is that you're facing in your time, trust me there'll be better days. Tears are temporary. You will feel whole and loved again. If you're currently tearing yourself apart, don't revel too much in the pangs of brokenness. But if you have to, remember it isn't the end. Love will find you, slowly, eventually... 

Sorry I took a little of your time to tell you things you will later discover. You can go back to your poem writing now. Write about him, your love at the moment. Pour all your emotions, ink your diary with words that describe him. You will read them one day as I do now. And you will smile. But I would like you to know, your masterpieces will come years later. When you're 29 and start to write passionately about the man I told you about tonight. 

Wait for him. He will come. 

All my love, 

Your older self

Plot twist: I MARRIED HIM. 💗

-katie, 15:14

December 15, 2019

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stormykatie
3 years ago

I did the dishes tonight while humming a Taylor Swift song. I know it's nothing huge and that some of you may be raising an eyebrow. 'She did the dishes tonight and she's writing about it. As if we care!'. Yes, that's the thing. I know you won't care. Not a bit. But I am writing about it in the same enthusiasm as you writing about your cat, that walk you took in the woods with the friend you secretly love, your dreams, your bucket list, the tasks that you need to accomplish, your pet peeves. 

Eight months ago, I wouldn't have minded the mountain of plates and mugs piled in the sink. I would lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and be somber. I would imagine myself wandering in an unknown forest. And that's it. That's all I could do: Imagine. I would fall asleep and forget about the bath I was running at the tub. I would wake to a drenched bathroom floor, clean off the mess and lie awake until 5 am. An arduous battle would commence between me and my mind. I would lose as I always do. Then I would go back to bed.

At 9 am, I would be too lethargic to get up. My cellphone would ring and the name on the screen would make me smile. Him-the only string that ties me to sanity. We would talk for a while, about everything and nothing. He would tell me about how sound he has slept and I would lie. I would try to make my nightmares seem like beautiful dreams that stole away my sense of reality for a night. I would make a cup of coffee and forget about breakfast. The conversation would become romantic, the kind that I indulge myself into so I could believe life is still worth living. That the sweet nothings worth every pain.

I would sit in my living room, try to make out the shadows prancing like restless sojourners from another lifetime. They would remind me about how I don't fit in this era and I would fall deeper into melancholy. This time, the heaviness would force me to mount the stairs like a wounded animal. I would lock myself inside my room, turn the music really loud so I could drown my heart, my emptiness, my exhaustion. I would cry a little. The effort would drain me. So I would lie on the floor, scroll endlessly on my phone. I would try to deny that I am depressed. I would try to deny that I exist.

When the inspiration strikes, I would type a poem. Another poem for me, for him, for someone I do not know but is feeling the same pain. I would imagine him somewhere in the wilderness, gasping for air as he sinks in his own misery. The poem will grow longer than intended as words gush out in a long queue of ghosts demanding to be inked for posterity. I would not hold anything back. I would type until my fingers become as numb as my barely beating heart. I would kiss my fingers and beg for forgiveness. Then my eyes would wander off to the window, lose my concentration into the pouring rain, and I would cry again.

Eight months, I was hiding in the void. If I came out at all, it was for me to immerse myself in the crowd so I could remember how it feels to be alive. Eight months, I never bothered to clean the mess in my dreary apartment. The dusty furniture, the cobwebs, the half torn curtains became my only company and they watched me suffer series of breakdowns. The bathroom witnessed how I struggled against taking my own life. The cold dinner table heard issues I refused to discuss with anyone. The bedroom watched me intoxicate myself as sleep became evanescent. Alcohol became my confidant. It became my lithium. And the window pane? It knows all of my secret longings. It stood by me as I waited for someone, anyone to drop by and perhaps, stop me from cutting my wrist.

Eight months, I never thought of doing anything normal. Eight months, I forgot I was human. Eight months, the sink resembled my life—disorganized, filthy, hideous and despairingly lacked future. Eight months, I stretched myself too thin, I broke like a thread. Eight months, I was luring death to take me. Eight months, I never did the dishes.

And so tonight, I want to write about how I stood before the sink, slowly picked up the sponge as Cardigan filled the background. And I hummed and hummed until the dishes were clean. It may be nonsensical to you, but to me, it was huge. It was me crawling my way back to redemption. It was me relearning forgiveness. It was me giving life a second chance.

It was me embracing FREEDOM!

-katie,

12th of June 2021, 18:25

Image: https://pin.it/6bVgzsz

I Did The Dishes Tonight While Humming A Taylor Swift Song. I Know It's Nothing Huge And That Some Of

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stormykatie
3 years ago
Legally Yours.

Legally yours. ❤️

You are the blessing I didn't ask for but were given;

You are the miracle I didn't pray for but happened.

You happened. And my love, I've become my best version. Thank you for calming my storm. Now everything in me is pacific. Thank you for taming my demons. Now they kneel and wear golden halos.

Since you happened, the lips that refused to pray started uttering praises to God who made this blissful encounter possible.

Because you happened, I lift my hands up above, call out in the voice of a Seraphim as I feel my wings growing...

Wings that were severed when I-

I renounced my faith in love.

You happened, so I regained everything I ever lost from fear and doubt and wrath.

You are the gift I didn't ask for but were bestowed;

You are the guardian I didn't pray for but were sent to bring me home...

You were sent TO BE my HOME.

-god sent, katie

7th of March 2020 @23:30


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stormykatie
3 years ago
Life F***d Me So Hard

life f***d me so hard

now i am pregnant

at the mercy of fatigue

and morning sickness,

i dream of galaxies

far away,

of stars burning out,

of white holes emerging

entities from one dimension

to a newer, greener one

i conceived hope

from tears

my grey sky shed

here in my womb

a new possibility was implanted

i watch blood spots stain

the clean linen I wear,

remind myself of the gift

throbbing in my veins

life f****d me so hard

now i am finally pregnant

after years of being barren,

lurking in the dark woods,

marveling at the depth of

the wounds i try so hard

to conceal,

the wrist cuts gaping

like angry openings but never

allowed air to fill my lungs

i suffocate, shatter in the corner

grit my teeth, bite my lips

to keep me from screaming

silence is comforting they say

and i drank too much of it

isolated from the rest of the world,

i am a pariah

who crawl the earth,

taste the saltiness of my sweat,

swallow the dirt

i lure death to my private chamber

he evaded me

but from time to time he visits

the farthest

reaches of my memory

he is not mine to summon

i can only wish solace

from the swing of his sword

so life flirted with me

it was a magical moment

romance quickly blossomed from

my famished mouth,

a miracle mushrooming from

my aching breasts,

it urged me to believe love always wins

though i never had the chance

to taste victory no matter how fierce i called

its name from the void, love

is an illusion meant to

manipulate us in our most

vulnerable state

life used love to tame me

i was at its beck and call

i've lain on a bed of roses

for ten moons or so

woke at the light kisses of zephyr,

greeted by the warm strokes of the sun

i was happy until the waves grew

rough, devouring me

i fell unconscious from the blows

gained scars from the wars

i waged in my head

life f*****d me so hard

it was an excruciating night

i lost my pride

i lost my dignity

now i am pregnant

after enduring barrenness,

and frustration,

and pain

i am pregnant with faith

with hope,

with courage,

with new potentials

i harnessed from

the belligerent storms

the world sent

to prevent me from going home

-new beginning,

katie, 19:20


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stormykatie
3 years ago

I don't own a gun

But you pointed 

Your finger

Said I killed the man

Shot him in the chest

Without a hint of mercy

So I was cuffed

Dragged into a dungeon

Ordered to be silent

Until "they" arrive

As to who "they" are

I don't have a clue 

Even now

That I'm looking at you 

The darkness of your eyes

Reminds me of a black coffee

Simmering with mystery 

Gaping out at me

I don't own a gun

But you insisted 

I killed the man

Shot him in the head

Watched him bleed to death

Then you broke a smile

That reminds me 

It's been a while

Since I saw happiness

Escaping from a cold heart

If it is genuine

I don't really mind

The truth that you can

Curve your lips

At someone else's misery

Makes the skin covering me

Quaver with a sense of foreboding

I don't own a gun 

But still I killed the man

You said I fired 

Six bullets 

Ignored his pained screams

Filling the room

As his lungs bursted

From his throat 

Approached him as he fell

And fired one more shot

But I don't own a gun

So how could I kill the man

As cold bloodedly as he had

Been murdered 

You laughed at my face

Told me to stop lying

That I should tell the truth

Stop denying the allegations

Still I don't own a gun

So how could I fire his guts

How could I shoot his chest

His head until he expired 

You stormed the room

Your voice sounded like a thunder 

But I know better

And so I met your gaze

If this is my crime

You won't hear me deny

Over and over

Like rehearsing a lie

I don't own a gun

But I'm still seated at this court 

The gavel made an eerie echo

As it was pounded against the table

Look, I don't own a gun

So why would I ask forgiveness 

With no one testifying against me

The charges should be dropped

Listen I don't own a gun

And we're just wasting our time

But if I have to pay for this 

I wish I hid the body

Well enough for it to rot

Six feet under ground

i (don't) own a gun,

katie

Image: https://images.app.goo.gl/YBEPxi7qzr89qTKb7

I Don't Own A Gun

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stormykatie
3 years ago
As Long As We Do Not Die,

as long as we do not die,

darling there'll be words

to stain blank sheets of paper

piled on your empty desk waiting

to be reunited with your pen,

there'll be stories about the night

we sat at the porch reminiscing

how we used to be good friends,

ah, cool, old days, we could not stop

talking as though the world is going

to end the next morning, you told me

how much you wished to wrap

your arms around me that afternoon I

was feeling under the weather,

there'll be tales to be told,

songs to be hummed,

poems to be recited,

darling, there'll be ample of words

to be written, so i'll let you fall

deeper into silence and revel

in the pangs if it soothes you

as long as we do not die,

there'll be stars twinkling

above us as we lean

for that last kiss.

-katie,

18th April 2021, 15:36


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stormykatie
3 years ago
You Don't Know

You don't know

What it's like

To stare

At the walls

For hours

And hours

Figuring out

How the clock

Ticks so loud

Screaming

A hollow sound

Dead, hollow sound

Ringing all over

Your deafness

Making you shiver

Despite your numbness

You don't know

What it's like

To hold yourself

Together because

Breaking down

Is like a drug

Tempting,

A little consoling

But destructive

So you lie there

Trying hard not to feel

Shutting the faint sound

Of blood running

In your veins

Trying hard not

To go insane

You don't know

What it's like

So stop repeating

Words I've heard

Before

For a million times

"You're gonna be fine!"

Maybe I would be

But not today

Definitely not today

-katie, 20:15

Image: Pinterest


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stormykatie
3 years ago

Five more minutes,

I will watch the moon

for five more minutes

Pretend my pain

is washed away

by its gloomy light

reaching my teary eyes

I will watch it with ardor

as the ocean roars

drowning the sound

of my heart shattering

into million screaming pieces

that remind me of

the kisses I showered the wind,

thinking you're here

running your fingers

through my hair

Five more minutes

won't hurt me

so I will linger that long

Stare at the night sky

Count the stars

that twinkle and

lament those that

already consumed

themselves to dust

Savor the cool breeze

against my skin

Listen to the secrets

the ghosts whisper

in my ears: your name

bringing me back

all the memories

I refuse to bury

Five more minutes, my love

I will watch the moon

wishing you're somewhere

looking at it too

-katie, 23:53


Tags :
stormykatie
3 years ago

You are neither a battle nor a war I have to win every passing day.

You are my refuge.

You are my home.

(you are everything that makes me want to survive)

............

Hindi ka isang laban na kailangan kong harapin at ipanalo sa bawat araw.

Ikaw ang kanlungan,

ang nag-iisang tahanan.

(ikaw ang bawat dahilan kung bakit nagsusumikap mabuhay)

-katie, 20:27


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