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Thunderclouds Above the City

written back in 2007.

I'm here and i'm there in a blink of an eye.
You think that you'll see me-you won't.
Time and the moon acting as my disguise,
the dark hiding all of my faults.

No trail left behind, and no one sees me,
like footprints erased in the sand.
Through villages, towns, and cities i flee
the nocturnal world at my command.

I'm both everywhere, and no where at all,
there isn't one place that i fit.
Moving faster than sound, i can pass right through walls
pay attention, for i'm easy to miss.

No weight keeps me down,
no grudges i'm holdin'
I'm calm, and i'm grounded
but just for a moment.


Because he was, and then I did.

And when he was, he was, and so was everyone else.

But "was" is the past tense.

He was, but not is; we don't use that term anymore.

You can't be both was and is.

He's different now, because he is nor more, just was.

And that changes everything.

He doesn't "do" anymore, just did, and won't in the future.

But I still do, even though he doesn't.

He moved, but also moved on,

and he didn't even know he was moving on from anything.

There was nothing to leave, just places to go,

and I'm stuck, I am, I'm "is", even though I'm different too.

I am here.

Death of A Drug Dealer

I can't feel my feet. I think they're gone; I would check, but I

can't lift my head. I can't feel... can't feel my feet, can't

feel my legs, can't feel my arms, my hands, my nose. I can't feel

my chest, I swear I'm not breathing right now; no, it's going up, down, up-down, is that real?

It's like... he was embedded in me, and I was in him, and now that he's

gone, like, really gone ,I just can't feel myself anymore. He

was my bones, and he's vanished, but I'm still here, and I'm just

a pile of skin and flesh and organs. I can't stand up, I

can't support my weight- I tried, but I have no feet.

I cried last night, fucking sobbed like a baby. I kept seeing him, he

was alive again, and he was pushing me off of him, and telling me

to stop crying and to suck it up, but his hair was tangled,

and all I wanted to do was to brush it! To soften the knots,

and to make everything smooth, to make it better again.

I can't breathe. He was my lungs, my air, and now he's in the ground,

and there isn't any air; he's sealed up and I can't

breathe, I can't...

I didn't sleep last night, got myself face-shitted... no. s-h-i-t. f-a-c-e-d.

I was gone gone gone gone gone gone gone, more gone than he would ever be,

and he was never coming back.

He would have laughed, he liked me when I was drunk: I kissed him

when I was drunk. Rum and rum and rum and rum and rum and a

hit of acid. And it was all better.

But it wasn't the same, because he would have wanted me to smoke some

weed, some good weed; I had some in my dresser, but I was

scared, and besides, it was his, and he would have been mad if I

wasted it all... wasted it all on him. But I wouldn't.

I can't feel my neck, my back, my spine. Every time I close my eyes I

see his hair, his beautiful blonde hair, but his lips are cold

and blue and he can't breathe, and I can't...

I'd rather be blind.
He was a locksmith.
He could break into houses, safes, and secrets,
but he could never pick you apart like I did,
like I do.

We sinned in the sanctuary,
snuck away for what felt like days,
but time passes slowly on your father's old pocket watch,
and we were mistaken.

I loved you once,
but distances stretches farther than love,
and you couldn't run that fast;
you got lost along the way.

I drove thirteen hours to a front door that was never yours
to a house that would never be a home,
into your world of pin curls and french cigarettes.
I don't speak your language.

Sep. 2nd, 2008

For anyone who happens to cross this page:
I only use livejournal for communities and as of 24 December, to post some random writing.
My myspace is www.myspace.com/wkat
and my wordpress is katecon.wordpress.com (you can find my writing etc there).



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