katswritespoetry - Tumblr blog

[katswritespoetry]

tired of sad bell jar core books. pls give me non-YA adult fiction book recommendations! (any genre) :D

I was really into reading in middle school and I found that in later high school/beginning college, I lost my enjoyment for reading and started doing it a lot less. This made me really sad since reading and writing were always such a huge part of my life, but reflecting, I find that it was definitely because I was in an "in between" stage of my life and I couldn't find an appealing "genre" of book to me anymore. The books I used to enjoy, which was mostly YA fantasy hunger games types or romance John Green type books (yk like every middle school girl), started feeling too immature and predictable for me. But on the other hand, "adult books" seemed daunting and while the books I tried were very well-written, most of them left me with this empty pit in my stomach. I've talked about this with a couple friends, and I'm not sure if its a shared/relatable experience here but I find that while YA fiction definitely makes reading enjoyable, lots of adult fiction has the opposite effect: it often has very negative tones and portrays life from a negative perspective that leaves you feeling sad or unsettled. (eg: I tried reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath or Ottessa Moshfegh novels and I definitely enjoyed them to an extent and don't regret reading them, but they left me feeling very empty while authors like Sally Rooney left me with almost a "nothing" feeling of being unsure why I read the book in the first place and that it was almost a waste of time). While this can be good to read and I do enjoy it sometimes, I do also miss more "happy" books that left a more positive impression or lingering feeling on me or even just books that have a more centered "plot" where things actually happen rather than just focusing on one character's inner ruminations. I do believe that a book needs to make you think and learn something, but I don't think that always has to be something that is inherently depressing and I find that those books are often triggering.

For this reason, I wanted to make a post asking for recommendations on fiction literature aimed for a college student/ 20 yr olds audience that have more of a plot focus and cover other topics outside of mental illness! (I did re-ignite my passion for reading with authors like sayaka murata and donna tart (LOVED a little life, life cycle, convenience store woman, the goldfinch) so if you could recommend anything similar I would love to read those! any genres from realistic fiction to fantasy to psychological horror. just like not sci fi or mental illness focused.)

[katswritespoetry]

original poem: philia

stolen glances

souls communion, silent conversation 

the crevices between your brow are my native language

can’t hold back my laugh and neither can you

so much space in this universe, but your fingers are hooked around mine so

there must be some kind of god.

sanctify my soul, call me a believer

incinerate bible pages in the 7/11 parking lot

there had to be something before you, it’s only logical, but now i 

cant remember

can’t help

but wonder if the point of it all was just to lead me to you

screw it all, i’ll burn down the world for you and mold it anew, honey get the gasoline

[katswritespoetry]

my name in your mouth: an original poem

my name tastes like cold metal in your mouth

the words are right but the sound is wrong, clunky, unfamiliar, foreign

like the high pitched acoustic feedback of a microphone

or the static crackling of a broken stereo, 

playing the wrong song on repeat.

it’s the uncomfortable silence of a morning suburbia

empty noise, white sentences  

a hollow mirage of false wonder that hides an ugly bone-barren truth.

—- 

my name in your mouth is but a painful alarm clock

the reminiscent souvenir of a fake persona

a charade that exists but only in your mind.

a thief, an actor who stole my name and claimed it as their own

but the play’s not ending, is it over yet?

identity fraud, i scream from the audience, it's not me, 

but there’s a standing ovation, the applause is so loud that i get drowned in the cries so

isn’t it?

after all, the bandits lived with it for so long that

to be honest i'm not sure who the name belongs to anymore.

(for isn’t it yours as much as it is mine?)

please, 

give me back my name.

[katswritespoetry]

under the sea: an original poem

the truth is,

underneath my eyelids are thrashing oceans of violence

and behind yours are deep-blue waters of calm.

during the day, we sail the same ship

but in the night, the monsters come out to play.

you’re humming to yourself, navigating in the helm, 

while sirens sing me to sleep

        (succumb to the roaring tides)

i walk the plank soundless

please, swim away, little fish

before you get caught in my net.

[katswritespoetry]

"a road divided": an original poem about growing up & losing your childhood friendships

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry we could not travel both

And become one traveler, long we stood

And looked down one as far as we could

To where it forked in the undergrowth.

Once the same road, now split amongst:

two landscapes, two fates.

Disguised with seeming pleasentry, tempting, but i'm no fool for 

How great can Nirvana really be if you’re not walking it with me?

i’d rather walk through hell with you than heaven alone.

“Which one will you choose?” You asked with wide eyes, but fuck that

I’ll dig a new road, we’ll carve a path wide enough for both of us

someone get me a shovel 

but by the time i look up you’re already gone and you’re only getting smaller.

I know you’ll come back though, because

  we promised that we’d stay together forever.

And i’ve been wandering around for a while but it’s okay, because 

the stars were born to guide us back to each other.

We might’ve gotten lost along the way or something but

I made it back and I'm right here and I'm never leaving again and 

I'll be waiting for you at the spot.

You know, the one that we said we’d meet at in 10 years, remember

(she doesn’t remember.)

time is moving ever so slowly

i think you just need some help remembering, right, it’s not that you’re not coming, right?

everyone’s growing up and leaving me behind but you said you’d never leave, we said we’d never leave each other and we’d stay young forever and buy an apartment in new york and 

i know it’s silly to cling onto the passing notion of a childhood dream but its all i have left because

we’re playing hide and seek and everybody hid but im it so i stayed here counting and somehow i never stopped, ive always been counting, it’s been 10 more years and im still counting 

doomed to be a timekeeper; please let me forget just once

want to forget about you but you're my favorite distraction, oh, what a contradiction

hey, wait where is everyone? i cant find you guys, please, come out

won’t you stay with me just one more time?

it’ll never be like how it used to be but

we can close our eyes and play a game of pretend and 

we’ll pretend we’re mermaids and knights and we’ll pretend we’re okay 

and ill cry when you go away

Two roads diverged in a wood, and you—

you took the one I wasn’t on,

And that has made all the difference.

[katswritespoetry]

[katswritespoetry]

[katswritespoetry]

[katswritespoetry]

[katswritespoetry]

[katswritespoetry]

Liar

my body is a traitor

a liar who tells me that im an ancient god 

a character of the holy bible, my veins laced thick with plot armor and ambrosia 

but she’s plotting something i know she is

double crosser, double agent, double dealer 

dealing me a full house of cards until she pulls out a royal flush 

playing me like a puppet and and burying me 6 feet underground 

i dont know when she’ll do it but 

I do know that she’s a snake and im a lion

top of the food chain, golden and beautiful

deluded with a false mirage, an illusion of power and control

but she’s lying in the grass in silence, waiting to cause the final strike. 

a false animal kingdom fantasy of a mutualistic symbiotic relationship

until she takes off her disguise 

sinking her fangs into my neck and spreading the venom to reveal her parasitic nature.

i bleed out blood that isn’t golden, isn’t laced with plot armor and ambrosia but with red blood cells.

our bodies will all betray us someday.

[katswritespoetry]

What gets you out of bed in the morning?

when i was little, i was given a blank sheet of paper and told to draw a flower 

and i would draw a flower.

maybe with an asparagus electric lime stem, or a semi-circle sun

badly shaded in with banana mania crayola in the top left hand corner of the page

and everyone would clap and tell me i was a prodigy.

the next day i’d return, and they’d tell me to draw a vase

and i would draw a vase.

now im still holding a pack of crayons and a blank sheet of paper 

but the lights are dimmed, art teacher gone.

what do i draw? i ask, but its silent, no one answers. 

it’s up to me, i guess– i pick up the paper and i stare at it.

What do i do with you? i don’t need to do anything, really 

i could crumple it up, or i could create a masterpiece.

it really makes no difference either way

why should i continue painting flowers? why should i create a masterpiece? 

no one's going to clap anymore

after all the only person who will see it is me

but if i dont draw a flower in razzle dazzle rose and vivid tangerine, why else 

would i get out of bed in the morning?

i pick up the pencil and i draw a flower with an asparagus electric lime stem.