Tag: #mywriting

When My Eyes Are Closed (A Poem)

Posted in Being a Writer, Me, My Writing, PoetryTagged , , , , 1 Comment

I see you in the sunrise, as the blue breaks through the orange like ink into water.

I see you in the way the wind makes the leaves dance like a ballerina on a stage, bowing to the captive audience.

I see you in the fluffy clouds as the sharp “V” of geese fly across the sky, always in perfect formation.

I see you in the busy, chaotic streets of the city as everyone moves about, their heads tucked into their own lives.

I see you in the wonder on a child’s face as the homemade volcano explodes into vibrant reds, showering glittery ash everywhere.

I see you in the face of an old woman with lines on her face as she tells her grandson about hiding during the first great war.

I see you in the smoke swirling out of a cigarette lit between two fingers as a young man talks to his mother and tells her that he loves her.

I see you in the theater as the credits roll on a movie and then the screen goes dark, the smell of popcorn and candy in the air.

I see you in the deep blue dress that still hangs in the closet. I haven’t touched it since you left.

I see you in the wine glass as I pour that special red we always loved. My second glass.

I see you in the sunset as the day ends, the blue bleeds into red.

I see you….everywhere. Even when my eyes are closed.

-K

Drabble #1: You’re My Starry Night

Posted in Being a Writer, Fandom, Me, My WritingTagged , , , Leave a comment

My back was to him as I looked out the window. The glass was fogged up, rain running down like sweat on cold glass, preventing me from seeing the city. It was a much-needed distraction as I prepared myself to speak. The room was cold and damp. I pulled the sweater tighter against me as if that could help me with what I was about to say. “Here’s the thing you don’t realize. . . .I love you. But you don’t love me.”

“That’s not true,” he protested. I knew if I looked back, his jaw would be tense, eyes dark gray like the weather outside, all anger and grief and stubbornness. I didn’t look at him because I knew seeing his handsome face, would break my resolve. And I knew – I knew I had to do this.

I should’ve done it a long damn time ago.

“Let me finish,” I said sharply. He goes quiet and I know he’s waiting on me to continue.

“What I mean is that you don’t love me how I love you. Do you love me? Yes, but it’s not the same. It’s like. . .It’s like that first love, yeah it’s there but almost faded like an old photograph. That’s what I am to you, I’m an old photograph. The colors all faded, and though I am important, every day, you look at me a little less. Instead, you look at him. He’s a damn Van Gogh painting. . .” The lump in my throat gets bigger. I had to get these words out though. I had too. For my sake. This love for them was going to destroy me and I couldn’t let that happen. Of course, once I thought about it, this love I have for them had already destroyed me.

I took a deep breath and finally turned to look at him.

It breaks my heart. He’s leaning against the kitchen table, his arms crossed as he looked at me with those beautiful gray eyes that right now were flat and emotionless. I stepped closer to him but didn’t take his hand. It wasn’t time for that. Not right now.

“I love you,” I whispered like it was a secret. Like the whole world didn’t know how much I loved him. Like the whole damn world didn’t know that everything I have ever done, I did for him. Like the whole damn world didn’t know that I spent half my life waiting on him and for him to never stay.

“But you,” my voice cracked like a 12-year-old boy’s. It’s embarrassing. “you don’t love me the same.”

He reached for me and I hated myself for stepping back. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I. . .” I ran a hand through my hair, then started fiddling with a piece of my sweater that’s unraveling. Unraveling like my love life. How did I explain it to him? Finally, I got it.

“You are my Starry Night,” I continued. “You’re everything. You’re the sun and the stars, the moon, and every damn planet. You’re the galaxy. I have spent half my life waiting for you. But you never stay. You leave again and again. But every time you come back, here I am. I am always waiting for you. Always. And I. . .I can’t do that anymore, James.”

“Katherine-” he began.

“No. I can’t do it anymore. I’m not saying I don’t love you. I do love you but love. . .it isn’t enough. Not when I see the way you look at him when you think I’m not looking. Not when I see the pining and everything. It’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to me.” I swallowed.

This time he ran a hand through his hair. “I never meant to hurt you, Kat.”

I smiled. “I know. Now, you gonna stand here or you gonna go ask a certain someone out on a date?”

He walked towards me. His hand was cold on my face. On instinct, I turned and kissed his wrist. “We’ll still be friends, right?’

“Of course,” I said.

We both knew I was lying.

He kissed my cheek gently before he turned and left. And once again, I was left behind.

(Excerpt from a fanfiction I’ll never write.)

-K

I Wish (A Poem)

Posted in Being a Writer, Me, My Writing, Poetry, Real LifeTagged , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I wish you knew how every time I hear that song, I die a little more.

I wish you knew that there are movies that I can’t watch anymore because we watched them together.

I wish you knew that sometimes I catch myself thinking about you and it takes me hours to forget you again.

I wish you knew that sometimes I see that black velvet box with the diamond ring and haunts me.

I wish I knew that I hear your voice everytime someone calls me “sweetie.” But then I look and it’s never you.

I wish you knew how hard it is sometimes to not dial your number. I still have it memorized even now.

I wish you knew that breathing is hard when I see photos of you on social media and you seem so happy.

I wish you knew that I finally made it to London and saw Big Ben. I took a picture to send to you and then remembered. . .

I wish you knee that I donated the dishes we bought together. You know the ones with the blue flowers.

I wish you knew I changed my hair color back to brown because I couldn’t stand to see the red hair you said always looked like flames.

I wish you knew how much I have grown and changed in the years since you left.

I wish you knew that I still think about you every day but I have to move on.

I wish you knew that my dreams are slowly coming true. Without you.

I wish I knew if you missed me.

-K

Starry-Eyed (A Poem)

Posted in Being a Writer, Me, My Writing, PoetryTagged , , , , , , Leave a comment

She comes in

like a heavy fog

over green,

green hills,

slow and steady

as the sun rises

in the east,

breaking into

blues and oranges.

She walks like

A cheetah,

Each step placed

With purpose,

Graceful and poised

But ready at a

Moment’s notice

To speed off

And save the day.

Her voice is

Like water,

Calm and cool,

Soothing all hurts

And easing

all sorrows,

But ready to rage

And rush like a

Waterfall.

In her eyes she

Holds the universe,

Eyes sparkling with

The stars

Like diamonds

And with the

Knowledge of all

Those who came

Before her.

-K

Love Is. . . (A Poem)

Posted in Being a Writer, Me, My Writing, Poetry, Real LifeTagged , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Love is

Slipping on a bottle

And then right as

You regain your balance,

Slipping on a rug,

Crashing to the hard,

Cold ground.

Love is

When you fall,

Sometimes there is

That cold hard ground

And you end up bruised

And broken

And maybe sometimes

A little bloody.

Love is

When there is no fall

Instead there is a warm hand

Yanking you back up

And a soft encouraging smile

Telling you

“Get back up. You can do it.

I believe in you.”

Love is

When you ride on

A rollercoaster

And you rush up the hill

To the very top

And you feel as though

You can touch the sun

And moon and stars.

Then you go rushing down

And down

And down

And you scream,

You are both afraid and happy.

Love is

That fuzzy butterfly feeling

In your stomach

Right after the hill

Of the rollercoaster,

That you enjoy and hate.

Love is

Everything

And nothing

All at once.

Love is

Unpredictable

Unforgivable

Terrifying

Exhilarating

Love is

Like a rollercoaster

It has it’s ups and downs

But sometimes

Love can be amazing.

-K

Apple (A Poem)

Posted in Being a Writer, Me, My Writing, PoetryTagged , , , , , , Leave a comment

They ask me why

I bite into the apple

They believe the lies

That the snake seduced me

That I was tricked

And then banished

My lover and I out of

Paradise

The truth is

There was no snake

It was him

My lover

He wanted the apple

But the moment

He was caught

He blamed me

He forced my mouth open

And shoved a piece

Of the apple inside

I did not want it

I only wanted

To gaze upon

The beauty the gods

Had bestowed upon

Us lowly humans

But my lover was greedy

He wanted the knowledge,

The power

So he took the apple

But I was the one

Who was punished

By the great thunder god

But the wife of the god

Let me keep all the knowledge

And that is why

I will no longer

Trust man

For he bite into

The apple

And I was blamed

Betrayed

Broken

And history

Repeats itself

Everyday

Man blames woman

But fear not, my sisters

For I am Eve

And we may have

Not wanted the apple

But it’s power

We have

Forever

-K

Random Writings From My Phone

Posted in Being a Writer, Fandom, Me, My Writing, PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I am not who you want me to be nor will ever be.

You can dig your nails in, scratch and claw like a bird with a worm.

But you can not change me.

***
The characters that I create are splintered pieces of my soul.

They are pieces of me that hide, pieces of me that no one sees.

***

Someone told me once that the kindest people can become the most deadly.

That the sweetest can become the most bitter.

Of course I didn’t realize they were talking about me.

***

“What’s your favorite part of the 21st century so far?”

“You.”

“No. Really. Be serious.”

“I am. My favorite part is you. You don’t see Captain America. You see me, Steve. The artist. That kid from Brooklyn. I’ve been awake for 6 months but it’s only these past few weeks with you that I’ve really felt alive.”

***

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. I need…I need to knlw who I am.”

“Be careful. Okay?”

“Of course.” “What’s this?”

“My lucky bracelet. Thought you could use it. Plus I don’t want you to forget me, Mishka.”

“Like I ever could.”

***

You have a beautiful smile they say or they say you should smile more

So I nod and give another smile, like I’m not brittle inside, like a dying leaf

Keep on smiling, all wide and toothy

Like a commerical for a toothpaste, That says use this and you’ll have a beautiful smile too

I smile until I feel like my face is stuck like that, like my face is going to crack and shatter into a million little pieces

Like that old wives tale

This smile is false, Carved on my face

And no matter what,

It nevers seems to fall

It never dims

It’s an illusion

This smile

But you can’t tell

So you say I have a beautiful smile

While inside I’m crying and slowly dying inside

***

You are crooked glasses, always sliding down your nose.

You are patterned leggings and baggy sweaters over sports bras.

You are messy hair to your shoulders or up in a perpetually falling bun.

You are ink and paint stained fingers.

You are a towering pile of notebooks with it’s own code.

You are the scrambling search for a notebook and scratching down ideas before they fade.

You are the canvas that one day will be filled.

You are dark brown eyes that gleam either black or gold.

You are bright blue eyeliner and red lipstick.

You are mismatched jewelry, leather and silver and gemstones.

You are a brilliant smile and kind eyes but a quick tongue.

You are well-placed one liners that make people laugh.

You are…me.

***

Hope you enjoyed my random drabbles! I write on my phone sometimes on Samsung notes. I thought I would share some random poems and dialogue for a Captain America fanfiction and such!

-K