katie, maybe @frog
4.15.26
to name it a curse would be epigrammatic;
the wraiths sojourned somewhere intrinsic.
alas, the tenth occurrence uncorks
those tenebrous past-life phantoms from her stronghold.
and although anonymous in attribution,
compunctions of conscious materialize:
(๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต)
(๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต)
(๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐)
as each rosy soldier within her
succumbs underneath the weight of the augury,
she will acquiesce.
3.28.26
conversation finally arrives back at its biblical intention
as minutes metamorphose into hours
over frivolous hypotheticals
and two cups of tea.
there's a resplendent after-taste to the first few hard-to-swallow sips;
unearthing a bittersweet juxtaposition in the ever-unfolding narrative.
looking at before, time flew only alongside pigsโ
the tick of a clock more a full revolution
than something to chase.
treading water.
now, as laughter falls forward and barrels toward tomorrow
its suddenly crystalline.
he was right to leave you.
1.19.26
somewhere between relief and existential dread
12.29.25
in retribution for our parable,
i hope the next chapter in your book
resides in hardcover:
---
intuitively,
you wrap a gift for your deuteragonist
in a pretty pink bow;
an avowal without reluctance;
another conspicuous love-avalanche shouted from the mountain-tops.
despite yourself,
you share the family recipe;
your history no longer revisionistโ
now malleableโ
and expand the picture frame for miss congeniality.
finally.
you've found a love worth evolving for.
---
in reparation for our parable,
i will allow the next chapter of my book
to reside in paperback.
view the source
lyrical psyche * 1.19.26
- thought i couldn't live without you, but i was wrong
- and eventually, the clock was always gonna stop
- and through it all, now you know who you are
- who you are
- so i'll just keep movin' on
- don't forget where you've come from
- reinvention fails the people who hide pain
lyrical psyche * 3.28.26
- somewhere in the traffic on Bond Street, a middle-aged man was driving his van
- he's been awful low of late, but he'll never show his mates
- he's a man's man
- working like a dog, a pile of bills to pay
- the last lonely pint at the bar will be the highlight of his day
- and every day the same
lyrical psyche * 4.15.26
- you were the God and I was the puzzle
- you in the clouds, me in the tunnels
- i couldn't see it for the trees, oh Lord
- you were nothing worth crying for
- time turns a page, cards are reshuffled
- it's you in the dirt and me with the shovel
- baby, I know how it would go down
- you then and me now
Email Me!
- katiectara@gmail.com
Last updated on Thursday, April 16, 2026