Sometimes My Heart Is Empty

Sometimes my heart is empty

Sometimes it's full of you

And all the moments in between

I cling into a string

With every gust of wind

Gently, I swing

In my mind I hear you sing

And I am lost

Between the lyrics

Oh you are

A song I can't forget

You're stuck

Deep inside my head

A persisting memory

Your voice resounds

I am lost

Between the emotions you evoke

When my heart is empty

You fill it up again

With feelings more profound

Than the last one it kept

The austerity

Of the lines you sing to me

Stops me from running

Mesmerized by the melody

I am not

The kind of person

Who admires

Singers

And all their poignant lines

But for you

I will make an exemption

For you always fill me

With waves of euphoria

That I forget

The chaos in my head

For you silence

The howlings from the dead

I buried beneath the sands of time

Oh you fill me

With your spilling pieces

And yet

I feel empty

Like I can't get enough

So I spread

Myself like a giant sponge

I'll absorb you

All of you

Until every song you sing

Becomes one

With my poetry

-One with my poetry,

Katie, 22:30

I'm too cold to be alive.

-katie, 19:00

In another universe

I hope we already met

That we spend time

Talking,

Laughing,

Watching the sunset

I wonder if in that universe

I write poems for you

And if I do

I hope you love them so

For in this universe,

I do write for you

A lot

But my words just wither

In the corner

Frozen in time

Concealed like secrets

Never meant to be unraveled

Destined to stay in the darkness

In this universe,

I am just a writer

Who beholds you with a sigh

Suppress a cry

As I immortalize

Your heart that has always belonged

To someone

In another universe....

Someone in another universe ,

Katie, 24:00

Sunsets are the best

Until images of him

Filled her memory

-sunset

katie, 21:00

photos:Jeffry Ruma

I was an empty canvas before you came and started filling me with colors. Like Da Vinci, you toiled to turn me into a world-class masterpiece. You gave life to my dull parts, fixed all my hideous scars, worked day and night until I became the creation every connoisseur of art cannot ignore.

I could not fathom though, why after all your sleepless nights, you've afforded to give me away like a thing you can't wait to depart from. Now I am hung against the wall of this lifeless museum, admired by hostile and faceless crowd. How could you create something marvellous with your hands and not fall in love with it in the end? The answer struck me hard like a lightning. We're not Pygmalion and Galatea. Never have been. Never will be.

-Not Pygmalion and Galatea,

Katie, 21:00