Tag Archives: Kara Emily Krantz

Staircase

by Kara Emily Krantz, 2014


staircase

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wild & broken

by Kara Emily Krantz


 

You seem to have misplaced my memory.

Absently tucking me between layers of moss,
you watch as the moisture saturates me.
I am a sponge, soaking up your sighs, pregnant with your always-temporary presence.

You misplace your intentions. One moment fully pulsating with possibility,
the next sobbing upon my lap. Hands reaching over, pulling my hair, grasping the seat-belt
as tears fall upon my dress.

Who are you, my wild broken boy? I curl my fingers through your hair
and feel nothing. You have taken all I had to give.
You have emptied me. I have been ravaged.
I am broken by your promises and numb to your eyes, shining with dew.

Why do you stare, so guileless and strong, and promise me the world?
You are as transient as the salty sea; I taste you on my lips
but you are soon washed away with the softest of kisses, an absent-minded touch. You are gone.

You seem to have misplaced me.

Traveling deep into the wilderness,
I can no longer seek you.
I can no longer wait for you.

You have misplaced all these memories, broken all the beauty.
You have ravaged my heart.

I seek you in the quiet moments, but my wild broken boy
you are gone.

Saturate My Roots; Let Me Breathe Again

by Kara Emily Krantz


Regrowth is necessary.

I must dig my roots deep into the earth.

Delve into the hidden layers of the world
and seek sustenance
for my sorrow.

I will saturate the sunshine slow.

Drink of the rain with deep, hungry gulps.
-rediscover a few pieces of eternity-

I will allow some time

for the tears to soak into the surface of my skin.
(wait for my lungs to breathe the air in)

With time, the budding bosom
of my passions
will heal.

I will wait with the patience of a petal in the night.

(I will only unfold
with the return
of the light)

Until then, I will lay latent

with the gentle grace
within.

-allow the moisture in the air to saturate my skin-

I will strip myself of the scars
healing around

my heart.

and glimpse -once more-
my secret, hidden soul.

Embrace the pieces that make me whole.

My regrowth will be a process
of patience, and of pain;

A quest for the sunlight,
mixed with a desperate need for rain.

savagely seeking

by Kara Emily Krantz


there is something savage to
this suture.

stretching at its seams.

i am tearing through thorn bushes
seeking the scent of your skin
and the overturned soil
at your feet.

i am digging with my hands;
my nails are filling with dirt
and you’re smiling down at me
in that sardonic way
and i could
just
scream.

but there is something savage
to this second

slowly slipping by.

i am pausing in my efforts to reach you
to beseech you
to seek you.

i stare at you with windswept eyes
and the dirt is smudged against my temple
and you’re touching it gently with your thumb.
your fingerprints are on me
and i’m numb,
i’m so numb.

there is something so savage
to your smile.

and i’m crouched here, waiting,
begging to be
beguiled.

The Roots of the Willow Tree

by Kara Emily Krantz


The weeping willow whispered to me, wrapped me

in her draping fingers

and allowed me to Be for a while.

 

(I never could forget that smile.)

 

He was there; I glanced at him with grace in my eyes,

and his fingers played upon strings

as his voice offered melodies to the sky.

 

I wanted to say something, but I didn’t even try.

 

There were too many moments

colliding into that one October night.

 

and I could barely decipher the moonlight

from the soil beneath my hands.

 

My patchwork dress wrapped around my legs;

I gazed at the ground by my side,

and breathed.

 

I could feel the willow’s roots beneath me,

her feathery promises around me…

and quite suddenly I felt safe in the world.

 

He was far away, where the music was, and

I was alone with the weeping willow and the stars.

 

All these moments were there -between us-

as moonlight danced upon water

and I contemplated how deep the willow’s roots reached into the earth.

 

We drank from that bottle of wine / as though it would somehow stop time;

as though the music would never end, and

that tree could weep forever.

 

As though that tree would weep forever.