Poem

I did not leave you

/ Katrina Kaye / 1 Comment

Katrina Kaye

due to the dirty dishes
or unrepaired holes in
the plaster. It was the
silence of your eyes.
Their passion drained
of all its red, the red
I once watched crawl
across your bed, before
it was our bed when I
was still chasing
dreams of migration.
It was the daily dregs
which cut the ropes of
our first love. The
terrible expression of
your day sipping cheap
beer just to get you
to sleep. It was when
we stopped going to bed
together and just slept
in the same place among
slightly different time
lines. The crack it left
was too severe and too
close to the skin. My
temperament dulled, the
anxiety that kept me bent
over kitchen sink has
dissipated and now I let
the dust collect on window
sill till it turns to mud
in the morning dew.

Previously published in Madness Muse Press (2020).

Badge

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

I thought I
was ready for
the collision of
tooth to chest,
so I waited
for bullet
to light up sky.
I remained
patient for barrage
to shatter my
faith in you.
I apologize
for letting you gut
me in the fashion
of an animal.

I am left with a scar
dug into flesh.
A badge flashing from
right shoulder,
which you ignore
every time you
brush past.

“Badge” is previously published in September (2014).

No Longer

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

I do not see ghosts anymore
but they are still here.

I watch them in the sparrows
I no longer have the inclination
to chase. I feel them in the music
I no longer have the patience
to memorize. I dance with them,

but no longer remember when first
I learned the steps; I listen to their
words, though I no longer speak
their native tongue. I hear them in the drip
of the faucet late at night, the creak
of the floorboards as I pass through.

I can still feel them within this home,
these walls, this air. They remain.
The one constant I know.

“No Longer” is previously published in Rabbits for Luck (2016).