| I'm Kat. I'm a writer; what I've put up for your perusal are some of my favorite little pieces. I hope you enjoy! |


Bedroom EyesBedroom eyes and the most lovely lies; that's all that girl is made of. She sits on the edge of the bed, slow drags off her cigarette like she's counting down her life, and laughs at me quietly when I tell her she's the daughter of a very different place. She's got looks that kill and glares that maim, and I hate the way she says I'm melodramatic when I tell her that her kiss is heartbreak on my lips. She's living, breathing Russian roulette, and every time I speak I feel like she's got the barrel to my head. When she smiles I feel like it should be raining outside, and she takes another drag off her cigarette and asks, when did the future beBedroom Eyes


CupidYou say vodka isn't quite so smooth at four in the morning but I think it's just jagged compared to your silky soft lines delivered like cupid's arrows to the heart; only this time it's mere seduction you aim for. And when they tear the sharpened point of the arrowhead from their hearts in the morning, I'm sure you'll tell them it's only a little flesh wound; you wouldn't recognize a bleeding heart if you tried, baby, because compared to yours, I could spend spring break in the arctic.Cupid
You sprawl your form across the couch and down your liquid pleasure which is as clear as your intentions; they say that love is blind but really i


RevolutionaryWe are a revolutionary idea spreading across minds like the word of Jesus and the plague; we've sworn to change this world, but we never said how. We are the myths and legends of old, passed from mouth to mouth, with the villians and heros, but with whom do we fall? We are the truths that are hidden within the urban legend, the angry boyfriend who became the axe-wielding stalker; we are the memories in fairy-tales, the wishes children make as they're tucked into bed. We are entirely of this world, and from in the system we will destroy it; but how do you undo what you are part of? We have nothing new to bring; we have no inspiration but thatRevolutionary


WinterWinter seeps from your pores like nicotine from favorite cigarettes and as the hills cave tonight, I'm wondering if contact should have been made a sin.Winter
The cigarette butt is lying in the ashes of it's own glory, like my heart before I went to you tonight. Your scent clings to the sweatshirt I stole from your closet and I can feel the soft suggestion of your fingertips running up my arms even though we've been apart for nearly an hour. That cool, icy stare of yours haunts me from the black and white photograph of us sitting on my nightstand, and even though I'm wrapped in a comforter and your hoodie I still feel that chill down m
| I'm Kat. I'm a writer; what I've put up for your perusal are some of my favorite little pieces. I hope you enjoy! |
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"Know to whom you are speaking.
... Despite who else may be listening."
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What a cool blog our family discovered! its a story about a philanthropist and his family! These stories inspired us to past along their link![link]
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The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. (Anais Nin)
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Most people just don't ...
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