kate-speaks-blog - Tumblr blog

[kate-speaks-blog]

2 • I wasn’t looking for you. I wasn’t looking for anyone, in fact, I was totally content being single and living life independently. Yet all of a sudden your arms were my home and your eyes made me weak in the knees. When you held my hand my stomach fluttered and my thoughts calmed. Before I knew it I was thinking about you day and night, answering FaceTime calls, and falling asleep to the sound of your voice. It still doesn’t seem real, and I’m still not sure exactly what to do about it, but the one thing I do know is that I fell so embarrassingly in love with you without even trying.

[kate-speaks-blog]

1 • I ask myself if this feeling is something I want to pursue or just a made up stream of consciousness resulted from my incurable loneliness. I know that I love you, but I cannot tell if it is strictly platonic or if it means a little something more. I’m so afraid of saying anything, because I know that the moment I do everything that has been built between us stands to come crumbling down. So I allow silence. I stare into your eyes and hold myself back from kissing your lips. I hold myself back from hugging your neck and never letting go until the end of time. We joke and we laugh about how close we’ve become and how we already act like an old married couple. But we don’t bring up the fact that electricity shoots through our fingertips when our hands touch and that feeling in the pits of our stomach isn’t just hunger. No, we don’t talk about the fact that we each are in love with the very person who’s been in front of us all along- the very person neither of us should be loving. We smile and poke at each other all in good fun and utterly ignore the longing and desire found in the other’s eyes. Because “just friends” don’t look at each other the way we do. And neither of us are quite sure what to do about that.

[kate-speaks-blog]

and so I find myself grasping at air for something to heal what has been so mercilessly broken. the world has left me trembling as I hold the power of pain and promise in my palm and tear away at what I hate until I’ve felt enough of both to quell this turmoil. my mind refuses to be comforted and my heart insists on being in pieces. I wake up from fantasy only to face a reality in which nothing is the same. I cry out and scream for this not to be real and I search within my mind for explanations that do not fulfill. I feel hands fold over mine and hugs follow me from behind but when I turn to see who is there I am greeted with empty space and reminders of what once was. I marvel at what my life has become. dull, dispassionate, and void of the person I was when you were here. I suppose that’s what happens when your surroundings are spun to a one-eighty and a half. it’s like puzzle pieces that don’t exactly fit and a shattered mirror that cannot go back together as it once was. that’s who I am: not as I once was, and not exactly fitting back in as I should. on the other side of agony you will find apathy. within yourself everything will dampen as the world turns grey yet continues to spin as it should. because time stops for no one, not even those who feel like hell is raining down around them. those who stand beneath the hot ash pouring from charcoal skies hoping to one day feel the rain. to one day escape this pain.

[kate-speaks-blog]

There was a time when she would give everything her all

When time stood still and what was up too high would fall

She would move mountains with her words and drown her enemies in their own sorrows

Writing for hours until the night turned into tomorrow

But all that changed when she met him- yes I know, how cliche

It always seems to change when a “him” joins the fray

He took her words and manipulated their intentions

Took away her voice and anyone it mentioned

He wanted to be the only light in her life, the only reason she would smile

He was even jealous of her used-notebooks pile

This may sound trivial, but I’ll let you in on a little hint

Ink and blood was where all her time was spent

If only he had known that she was more than a pretty face

So much more than a christmas gift, all wrapped up in lace

She was fire, she was rain, “she’s sure something” they would say

Until he came along and stripped all that away

He took her for dinner and bought her red flowers

Later that night she’d write about how their relationship went sour

He hated her for making these predictions as she did

Writing like she suffered from cancer or mothered a three year old kid

She assumed so many different personalities he didn’t know who she was anymore

Was she a weathered military vet or the young clerk at that store?

Finally fed up with all of this and honestly concerned

He gathered up her notebooks and watched as they burned

Without this outlet, she began to lose motivation

No amount of pressure could release her from this life hesitation

Feeling as though everything around her had come to a screeching halt

She fell back into what some would call a system’s default

She was controlled manually, yet no one bothered to find her levers

Leaving her to watch as her relationships severed

He didn’t want her anymore, she now lacked personality

He made her like this but then regretted its finality

And so she remained, lost in a dark abyss

Alone and forgotten, with no one to miss

She used to be fire, she used to be rain, “she used to be something” they would all say

Little did they know that they made her that way

For her to be normal, what a price they would pay

[kate-speaks-blog]

If it’s too soon for me to be feeling this

Why are your arms all that I miss?

I had it great with a guy who cared a lot for me

Broke it off before I lost control of this blasted anxiety

I can’t trust myself to follow through in relationships

Commitment isn’t my thing right now I tell myself as I imagine your hands on my hips

I know this to be the case so why does my heart pound in my fragile chest?

My rib cage can’t take any more, God give it a rest

I lie awake at night thinking about those eyes

It’s all coming back to me why I fed myself those lies

You were involved with someone else so I removed your name from my lips

I drank the poison of denial in short tiny sips

Nothing can happen, I tell myself once more

As I scroll through your socials not knowing what I’m looking for

I see you and I don’t see her

And we’re back to where we started, where we once were

[kate-speaks-blog]

and so I find myself grasping at air for something to heal what has been so mercilessly broken. the world has left me trembling as I hold the power of pain and promise in my palm and tear away at what I hate until I’ve felt enough of both to quell this turmoil. my mind refuses to be comforted and my heart insists on being in pieces. I wake up from fantasy only to face a reality in which nothing is the same. I cry out and scream for this not to be real and I search within my mind for explanations that do not fulfill. I feel hands fold over mine and hugs follow me from behind but when I turn to see who is there I am greeted with empty space and reminders of what once was. I marvel at what my life has become. dull, dispassionate, and void of the person I was when you were here. I suppose that’s what happens when your surroundings are spun to a one-eighty and a half. it’s like puzzle pieces that don’t exactly fit and a shattered mirror that cannot go back together as it once was. that’s who I am: not as I once was, and not exactly fitting back in as I should. on the other side of agony you will find apathy. within yourself everything will dampen as the world turns grey yet continues to spin as it should. because time stops for no one, not even those who feel like hell is raining down around them. those who stand beneath the hot ash pouring from charcoal skies hoping to one day feel the rain. to one day escape this pain.

[kate-speaks-blog]

Love is splinters, piercing the middle of my chest and working their way up to my throat where hands are grasping til the point that I’m gasping and there is no hope of me ever waking up. Love is a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and the center of my mind that seems irrevocably connected to you. Love is red eyes and dark circles and losing time. I’m telling you- love is utter torture and anyone who tells you otherwise has never tried it.

[kate-speaks-blog]

12:15 AM

wishing my brain had an off switch right about now.

[kate-speaks-blog]

One day, I’ll look back at my teenage years, and I’ll realize that all of this was not as big of a deal as I made it out to be. I’ll regret not kissing the guy, not standing up to the teacher, not giving myself the time to grow. I’ll regret not cutting myself enough slack. Because we are here on earth for one reason and one reason only- to do the very best we can. And in order to do this we have to take care of ourselves- and not feel guilty about it afterwards. There are relationships that will be severed- sacrificed- in the name of ourselves, and you know what, that’s okay. Because the people you let stay are the people who not only make you happy but also the people who let you be happy. So from now on, no regrets. And no regrets about having regrets. Because life is here to be lived, and the people who truly get that are the ones you get to live life with.

[kate-speaks-blog]

[kate-speaks-blog]

Maybe tomorrow I’ll dream about someone else and, in my mind, you’ll be a distant memory.

[kate-speaks-blog]

Why is it easier to write poetry about the one who broke your heart

Than the one who actually stays?

[kate-speaks-blog]

[kate-speaks-blog]

[kate-speaks-blog]

I’m ready to cancel my subscription to mental illness now.

[kate-speaks-blog]

There was a time when she would give everything her all

When time stood still and what was up too high would fall

She would move mountains with her words and drown her enemies in their own sorrows

Writing for hours until the night turned into tomorrow

But all that changed when she met him- yes I know, how cliche

It always seems to change when a “him” joins the fray

He took her words and manipulated their intentions

Took away her voice and anyone it mentioned

He wanted to be the only light in her life, the only reason she would smile

He was even jealous of her used-notebooks pile

This may sound trivial, but I’ll let you in on a little hint

Ink and blood was where all her time was spent

If only he had known that she was more than a pretty face

So much more than a christmas gift, all wrapped up in lace

She was fire, she was rain, “she’s sure something” they would say

Until he came along and stripped all that away

He took her for dinner and bought her red flowers

Later that night she’d write about how their relationship went sour

He hated her for making these predictions as she did

Writing like she suffered from cancer or mothered a three year old kid

She assumed so many different personalities he didn’t know who she was anymore

Was she a weathered military vet or the young clerk at that store?

Finally fed up with all of this and honestly concerned

He gathered up her notebooks and watched as they burned

Without this outlet, she began to lose motivation

No amount of pressure could release her from this life hesitation

Feeling as though everything around her had come to a screeching halt

She fell back into what some would call a system’s default

She was controlled manually, yet no one bothered to find her levers

Leaving her to watch as her relationships severed

He didn’t want her anymore, she now lacked personality

He made her like this but then regretted its finality

And so she remained, lost in a dark abyss

Alone and forgotten, with no one to miss

She used to be fire, she used to be rain, “she used to be something” they would all say

Little did they know that they made her that way

For her to be normal, what a price they would pay

[kate-speaks-blog]

I’ve written a thousand poems about how you’re bad for me. How even the thought of us together would simultaneously make my heart thud unnaturally and my stomach turn itself to knots. And I’m not talking about butterflies and romantic heart flutters. I’m talking about actual physical pain that followed the sound of your name in my ears.

I knew what I was getting into because I’d been told that boys who ride motorcycles and don’t wipe the grime off their face were up to no good and only wanted one thing from me. I was told that nothing nice ever came from the mouths of those who wore tattoos, and I would never get through to the ones who couldn’t bother to stand up straight around adults.

But when the bags around your eyes showed me the truth of what you go through every night, and the wicked grin you gave me when I finally looked your way made my knees go weak; I realized that no amount of warning could have prepared me for this.

Because they told me about the tattoos and the angry looks. They warned me of the violent mood swings you were sure to experience because of the way your hair curled underneath the edges. But what they didn’t tell me is that you’d have a scar right above your left eyebrow that would tell a story, or about the way you’d pick up your little sister from camp every day and swing her over your shoulders as she giggled and laughed and made your name sound like alphabet soup, or how we’d make eye contact for the first time and I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away from your stare. That instead of your gaze traveling over the length of my body, you’d search the depth of my mind with eyes that tried to copy the waves of the sea. That once I’d fallen in love, there was no turning back from there.

So sure, everyone warned me. But when the sparks fly over the flammable object that is my heart, there’s no stamping out the fire. There’s no extinguishing the flames that lick my skin when our hands fold over each other’s hesitantly. No amount of good sense and preventative measures could have stopped the fire that destroyed all of my hopes and dreams to find “a good guy.” Because this “good girl” didn’t need someone else who set her up on a pedestal, rather someone who would challenge her fear and support the growth of her personality despite difficulty. Someone who would give her hell during an argument but turn it right around when they found themselves in heaven as their lips crashed into each other’s. Someone who balanced her strengths and weaknesses in a way that no other person on earth could do, because though we may have been an unlikely couple, it was the parts of us that differed holding us together. It was his obnoxious laughter and my subtle savagery that kept us up all night when in each other’s company. It was my lack of courage that attracted me to his unapologetic boldness. It was his failure to stay focused on one thing for too long that drew him to my steady train of thought. It was our contradicting ideas that when meshed together always seemed to establish an ironic truth. It was us, him with his ripped jeans and me with my worn out bible, that disregarded all warnings from those closest to us to seek out something neither of us had ever experienced before: a love that existed outside of the fairytales and inside the story we decided to create for ourselves.