• Katia commented on the post, overt 5 years, 6 months ago

    i feel like i have opened my body and light is filtering out. i am dancing round a lightbulb because it is night time outside. i will only live for 24 hours and i think it is obvious that the colour is rubbing from my wings. i left traces of it on your cheek whilst you were sleeping. will you look in the mirror today?

  • Katia commented on the post, polite 6 years, 2 months ago

    I haven’t got a colour I want to write today, apart from the yellow spilling from a smile.

  • Katia commented on the post, blamed 6 years, 3 months ago

    I felt like the sun was not able to accommodate me anymore, the apocalypse which happened in my stomach with the last glare from his eyes, bleeding into me an anger I had never thought could exist inside a human. Animals were placid but would not meet my eyes. I wish I could write.

  • Katia commented on the post, arthritis 6 years, 3 months ago

    my mother’s limbs are sundials and her hands are compasses pointing always towards the colour of springtime. I am not water, and I wonder how it and mirrors can be seen as colours, especially in fun-houses when all concept of time and personhood become mangled and distorted.

    I do not like this word either because this illness is real to me.

  • Katia commented on the post, stilts 6 years, 3 months ago

    I cannot believe you when you tell me you have touched the sky, and that your pockets are lined with stars which you caught with a butterfly net. If you brought me the moon, I would probably laugh. Hysteria is overwhelming, and sometimes, so are your fantasies.

  • Katia commented on the post, incomplete 6 years, 3 months ago

    I am thinking about bad music, the electrim beats of an imagined drum and how we seek music to fill holes in our bodies which we imagine ourselves, these imagined sounds filling imagined places with imagined synthesis. I feel cathartic today with how much and how little I find myself in, and watching you drive your car south, in the opposite…[Read more]

  • Katia commented on the post, shells 6 years, 3 months ago

    we play out like a trumpet, along the beach, muggy, with our hair sticking to our foreheads like tassels and press our ears to the conches, listening for answers but only hearing the blood in our own ears. I do not like to write as a ‘we’ anymore, but I do not believe in individualism. I am in a weird place.

  • Katia commented on the post, pairs 6 years, 3 months ago

    sometimes i wonder where a sense of belonging arises. i am the colour of your palms when i see you, it fills my cheeks how vibrant your movements are when you do not see me. i fade into a part of the tree bark.

  • Katia commented on the post, strung 6 years, 4 months ago

    i find myself laid out, piece by piece, as if you are my engineer and i am the pieces of a satellite. there is something pulling on my left arm, as if you have tied something to me, so i cannot float away. but the clouds pull farther and i split in half.

  • Katia commented on the post, sleeved 6 years, 4 months ago

    i did not cut myself in half today, i fingered the scissors in the draw for a little while and imagined myself unfurling like a new kitten, or a yarn, or my organs unravelling like tiny sleeves of a whale’s childhood jumper. i am comfortable in your womb, a scarf which wraps around me.

  • Katia commented on the post, pixels 6 years, 4 months ago

    i lose myself in technology, fold myself up in the cogs of this intangible thing on my screen, it is odd how i cannot hold any of this, but i feel myself wrapped inside it, i feel like it is connected to me in this visceral way with each pixel buzzing in reaction, or in ‘sync’ with my body.

    i do not like this word. writers romanticise a time…[Read more]

  • Katia commented on the post, wrath 6 years, 4 months ago

    sunlight becomes a symbol of what I ignore, burning above me, but I look away because staring this in the face, the doctors warn, will make me blind.

  • Katia commented on the post, decompose 6 years, 4 months ago

    breaking down over the night, I become a dandelion spore floating absent-mindedly in the air. my gravestone is the grass and it is time for the leaves to die. mash them under your boot. I cannot breathe anymore if I am not going to sit under the sycamore tree with you today.

  • Katia commented on the post, coach 6 years, 4 months ago

    i write about how the sun sails in through the window like a soaking paper boat, shaking as its bow becomes waterbloated and sick. i pull the curtains closed, they are yellow and the leaves on them scintillate with the turning of each corner like tiny hallucinations. this is a journey into sleep i take alone

  • Katia commented on the post, undetected 6 years, 4 months ago

    the roof of your mouth was barbed wire and i slipped down your throat like a silent tablet. you put that mask on, i feel the elastic laceration through your hair and i am incredibly empty under your gaze, i am space. smaller than a galaxy.

  • Katia commented on the post, pained 6 years, 6 months ago

    the last few hours before the death of a moth, it must wonder what the point of spinning around the dim sore-eyes light of a lamp was, and how she had contributed to the world. the looming of death brings such thoughts along with it.

  • Katia commented on the post, blasted 6 years, 7 months ago

    it was after the war that we emerged from the rubble like flies feeding on a carcass. i wasn’t sure where i was for the three weeks i spent rubbing my palms into dirt and licking my lips until my tongue was just as parched. it is pain which dragged me here, coarsed through my ribcage, my spine, my femurs.

  • Katia commented on the post, eternal 6 years, 7 months ago

    there are pools of my tears collected in the roof gutter, staining your window with their salt. the next day, you carry a bucket and a sponge, set the bucket in the flowerbeds and tear the rhododendrons from their roots. you scrub your way into sunset, remove your own fingernails trying to displace those salty stains like crystals suspended from a…[Read more]

  • Katia commented on the post, terrain 6 years, 7 months ago

    I could feel something building up inside me, or something crawling and climbing along my internal organs. It snaked up my spine, then touched my tonsils and down my throat it fell, into the pit of my stomach, grappling then onto kidneys and swallowed eventually by my small intestine. I couldn’t stop staring at you that day.

  • Katia commented on the post, holder 7 years, 2 months ago

    ingrained in my mind is the way your hands cupped that blackbird as its eyes slowly shut to small slits in pain, or peace. one or the other. perhaps both. it died in your arms that day and even though i told you […]