Original Prose - Tumblr Posts
9th ❤
for Jeffry
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
For Jeffry
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
Many won't agree with what I'm going to say but it's a truth that needs to be heard. Love doesn't really hurt, it heals. If you've known love as something that ruptures your soul so you ended up shredded, maybe what you had was a counterfeit and haven't really met love after all.
For...
Love doesn't judge. It understands. Love doesn't take offense. It forgives. Love doesn't ridicule. It appreciates. Love doesn't outcast. It takes you into its arms for comfort. Love doesn't abuse. It heals.
Love is love. And it's something that you can run to after a long day of fighting wars. It's something that can put you back together after you've been shattered. It's something you can trust with your life for it doesn't betray. It's love.
And it's not...
A train. You don't need a ticket to board it. You don't need to run on your toes to catch it because it's leaving. Love doesn't leave. It stays. Surprisingly, even when we don't need it, it's just there.
It's not...
A game. People would play it with their selfish rules. But it doesn't need to be played. No one wins or loses in love. We're all equal in its eyes.
It's not...
On material things. It can't be measured by the value of gifts given. It can't be monetized. It doesn't have a currency.
It's not...
Something that you have to deserve. There are no requirements. You don't need to be beautiful or intelligent or rich or famous. We're all worthy of love. No one is below or above us.
For...
Love is love, regardless of how society tries to stain its name in an effort to fit it into the norms. It's been disgraced. Used to manipulate. Screamed out to frighten those who don't have a slight clue about what it is.
So...
If the hands you hold push you to be a stone and don't seem to transform you at all, let go. If the lips you kiss spit venom into your tongue that you end up poisoned and left to die, let go. If the arms wrapped around your waist don't hold you like you're going to fall apart, let go. If the eyes you stare at pierce your flesh that you bleed and shriek out in pain, let go. It's not love. I said it earlier and I'll say it again: LOVE DOESN'T HURT, IT HEALS.
Think about that.
(my love, you aren't aware of this but you redefine love to me everyday.)
-love as redefined,
letters to Jeffry,
katie, 18:00, 9th of March2020
Let me get this straight, my darling. It's either you're in love with me or you're not in love with me. There's no middle ground. So if you're not certain about how you feel about me, you can go. I've watched lovers walked out of that door so many times that I got used to seeing people leave. It will hurt a little but I definitely prefer being alone over spending time with someone who isn't sure about me.
Let me get this straight, my darling. I refuse to be half-loved.
-katie, 23:00
But the parts that you claim
to love so tenderly
are the polished parts
Those free from flaws
covered in rich foundation
My love,
those are the easy parts
to love
How about embracing
the scars
the unsightly stretch marks
the eroding wave of sanity
all of the dark?
-katie, 21:00
I love you
I do
When you left
this morning
and all I could smell
was your scent mixing
with the aroma
of coffee,
I knew...
-katie,02:45
I am
a woman
a human
person
a soul
wandering
searching
for peace
and quiet
I have personality
I breathe
I exist
I am one
with the living
So don't call
me hot
I am not
a soup
-katie, 10:11
Go!
The doors are open wide
along with my eyes
staring at the nothingness
that used to be a space
filled with heady scents
of love
of joy
of the future
But everything changed
And the wind
that used to sing
me lullabies
now screams
silence
all around
All the sounds
that used to occupy
my mind,
your voice
the way you whisper
lies I believed
to be promises
disappeared
like they've never
been said
Oh you said
you will never
give up
on me no matter
what happens
So what happened
What made
you realize
I am difficult
to love
to understand
No, I am not
calling you back
again
This is me
telling you
to leave
be free
for I don't need
someone who doesn't see
beyond highs
beyond lows
So be free
It's better that you leave
now than later
For later would cause
a wound deeper
than the one I dug
beneath the ground
where I stand
Go!
-katie,21:45
And now I lay me down
to sleep
on your chest, mesmerized
by the rhythm
of your heartbeat
I pull you closer,
can't seem to get enough
of you
as you whisper
sweet nothings
and then play
with my hair
I try my best
to stay awake
a little longer, my love
nuzzle your shirt,
remembering your scent
Since you came
reality has been better
far better
than my dreams
Oh I lay me down
to sleep
but your voice keeps
my mind alive
with all the thoughts
I run with you
Sometimes words
are scarce
but I hope you know
that you resemble
the stars
and that you are
enthralling
Now lay me
down to sleep...
-katie, 22:07
Yes, I cry in the shower
cry rivers of tears
raging
from the corners
of my eyes, they don't dry
I punch the wall so hard
my knuckles hit
the rough cement,
they bleed
stories
that never end
I cry and cry,
the saltiness of
my tears mixes
with the droplets
of water running
down my scalp,
to my face
to my neck
to my chest
where a hole pulsates,
a life escapes
with the mist
fogging
the window
I try
to visualize
happiness but the stream
of thoughts rock
my brain, rip
my skull open
the creaking
dominates
the whimpers
I try to hide
under the guise
of water drenching
my naked body
-droplets running, katie
Image:Pinterest
I was so young
and carefree
and naive
and I have loved you so much
like I was just a sojourner
in this world
-katie, 15:47
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
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
happy thoughts, they tell me,
"fill your head with happy thoughts"
oh, how i wish to
but the thing is,
my mind
is already crowded
and my demons
won't let any of these
"happy thoughts"
ruin their own
idea of a "merry-go-round"
-katie
Image source:
i never held your little hands
though in my dreams, i had
we picked daisies together, we did
and your chuckles still reverberate
over my ears as i try to make sense
of it all
it doesn't make sense, nothing is
making sense
even the hole i try so hard
to fill with thoughts
of you glowing under the sun
seems fleeting
my darling, you were so perfect
but then you fade away
gently, slowly
a dream finally detaching
itself from reality
so i could wake from my sleep
did you think it will be easy?
did you think that it won't hurt?
when i opened my eyes, no words
could console me,
no amount of tears
could wash away my grief
the only thing that holds
my pieces intact is the knowledge
that your pain is over
while mine has just begun
-thoughts before d&c, katie
Image lifted from https://pin.it/1ra1G8Z
when i grow up
i want to be
an astronaut,
an author,
a magician
as a child, it was
easy to dream
of anything
a doctor,
a scientist,
a teacher
the world is vast
and full
of possibilities
now a grown woman,
my heart just wants
to be happy
but disappointingly,
happiness is elusive and
life is a sadist
that takes pleasure
in my agony
so in a world where
we can be anything
i became a masochist
-katie
someday i will teach
myself to write
a poem again
and it won't be about you
or the years
we wasted dreaming
about our future
while forgetting
to water the flowers
so one day they just wilted
away erasing
our existence
no, when that time comes
i'll be writing about something else
perhaps, not one about the war,
or the inflation,
or the rising heat index
i will try my best to write about
anything that does not capture
the stars in your universe,
the bubbles of thoughts floating
above your head,
the wind kissing
your hair, the rain gently gliding
in your porcelain skin
i will forget about the way
you made me feel
along with the memory
of how truth
became the first
casualty of a war
we didn't ask for,
a war that ruined
the taste
of heaven on my lips,
a war that created
waves of differing heights
and tenacity
i'll forget about the dreams
we buried beneath our fallen city,
the unread text messages,
the unpublished reels, drowned
in the echo of grenade raining
the afternoon sky, cries
of dissenters swarming the streets
like flies, shrieking out "freedom!"
oh, freedom,
when will i...
forget about everything
and write about cicadas,ignore
the ashes and screams filling
the air as i watch your head explode,
a watermelon being run over
by a truck!
i will teach myself
to write a poem that
doesn't immortalize you
however, everything
that you were stains
my hands with red-
a dark, raging
shade of red
-flowers wilting,
katie, 05/12/24
Photo lifted from:
dear universe,
how many fire
will you ignite
before you realize
i am a phoenix?
-did you honestly think i'll just burn?
katie
"payt bhar kay khalow"
I don't know much of my mother tongue, but what I do know has come from conversations with my grandmother. Usually about food.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
Which means "eat until your stomach is full". Or something like this. And in this way she feeds me. She sustains me. She tells me it is okay, to take until I am satisfied. Demands it with a stern voice and plate full of offering.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
I'm 15 when my uncle's gaze tells me I shouldn't have another slice of cake. My grandmother plates me a second piece with a overdone wink, shoving it into my palms even when I say no. Even when I want to take up less space. Even when I want to disappear. She does not ask. She is demanding I exist unapologetically.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
I am 17 when I have my four wisdom teeth removed. Spitting up blood in the sink, trying to replace my gauze, I come to the kitchen for a glass of water to down my antibiotic pills. She asks me if I want to eat. I roll my eyes. Try to manage through the cotton in my mouth, that I can't. Assuring her I won't starve in the hour it takes for the numbing to wear off. She dosen't sound convinced. She keeps trying to feed me. I think she does not trust the world, not to devour me while I heal.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
She is telling me to eat before I leave. What if there isn't food there? Eat. Eat, just in case. You'll be hungry. I don't want you to be hungry. I think she does not trust the world to sustain me. To give me what I need. I do not blame her. I do not trust it either.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
She always sends me home with tupperware full of leftovers, enough for at least three days, every time. Even when I tell her there is no room in my fridge. That there is no space at home. She makes me promise to ensure my mother eats. She tells me "layja". Take. So I do. I think she does not trust me to sustain myself. To take what I need. I do not blame her. I do not trust me either.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
She says eat. You look exactly like your mother. Your mother never ate. Your mother is looking thin. What she means is, my mother hasn't called her in months. Your mother never ate. What she means is your mother never took. What she needed. Your mother never ate. What she means is: your mother never ate my food. My cooking. She never let me sustain her.
But my mother eats. She takes. I know she does. But never until she is full. Just enough to survive. My mother tells me the story, of calling her my grandmother at a train station in the middle of the night when she was pregnant with me. She asked for spicy foods. Haleem. Pakora. She asked for food. She asked for other things. She asked to come home. And my grandmother told her no. My grandmother turned her away. My grandmother said: Take less. Be small. Be good. Your satiety is conditional. It comes after that of your husband. And his father. And your child. You eat last. You eat what is left.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
I think my mother never outgrew this lesson. I think, yes, my mother is looking thin. I think, yes, my mother never eats until she is full.
"payt bhar kay khalow"
I think my grandmother understands now. And so she tells me
"payt bhar kay khalow"
Eat until you are full, child. Take until you are satisfied, girl.
- There Is A Difference Between Taking And Taking Enough
