Break up Poem

Katrina Kaye

legs
bare
brown
smooth
to touch
can’t help
but watch
as they
walk away

ridiculous
the way
your lips taste

too much
gratitude
to be bitter

I gather
strength upon
back bone
desperate
to get the
tune right
to lure
you
to me

but the
smell of
your air
is rotten
is familiar
is perhaps
the same as
my own

don’t leave
this town
not yet
chance is still
hanging on
your words
unlocked
headlights
in the rain

I will try
to love you
better

“Break up Poem” is previously published in Saturday’s Sirens (2022).

Kate once told me

Katrina Kaye

every poem begins
as a suicide note.
And a
well rehearsed
death
is always
winkled inside mind,

soaking there,
dripping stalagmites,
building blocks of
the subconscious.

Counting ticks
to midnight;
the story
so close
to conclusion.

Loneliness,

like rock candy
crystallizing on
popsicle sticks,
attaches to rib cage,

expands and compresses
with each
shallow breath.

I don’t have fear.

Sometimes the
only thing
that gets me through
is knowing

at any minute
I can stop it all.
I can rock and roll
out of this human suit,
shed soft covering,

reveal bare bone,
and empty cavern.
The sliver of power
over my life;

it is everything and
it is nothing.

“Kate once told me” is previously published in No Longer Water (2023).

Katrina Kaye

kill darlings

again;
hang them by the neck,
swing

from old oak in evening breeze.

leave them
out to dry,

skin stretch against rocks
reflect sun’s heat as they bleach to leather.

split silence with their scream.

It is the only way to wash clean.

“Again” is previously published in Chasing Rabbits (2016).