Jun 12
Kittykatruff's picture

Yellow Butterflies

Pretty yellow butterflies
Flit over the grass,
Wingtips barely missing
Flowers, twigs, amber tree sap.

I gaze into the darkened sky
And feel a certain blue;
the kind that weighs your shoulders down
and reveals brutal truths;

A little yellow butterfly
lands on my fingertip,
the sun shines through the clouds
and then I'm flying up to it—

My laughs rings out a thousand bells
and floats silvery-like through the air;
a million yellow butterflies
Dancing everywhere—

Pretty yellow butterflies
float into the field,
I can't help smiling, though they don't know
the joy they make me feel.


 
May 30
Kittykatruff's picture

City Lights

I stare out at the city skyline:
a melting yellow sun 
behind skyscrapers,
hints of pink and orange
shimmering in the distance.

Soon, the sun is gone
and darkish, gray-blue ink rushes across the canvas
of the sky,
Slipping over every bank,
store,
restaurant,
apartment,
and person,
setting the stage
for the stars.

Where I live, the stars
shine brighter than a thousand fireworks,
than a thousand camera flashes
and those blinding stage-lights—
they sing and dance
as millions of fireflies 
during those long, peaceful summer twilights,
And let the lonely soul
know they're not alone.

Here, the city-lights shine bright—
Alas, in their pride, they steal to center stage,
blurring out the velvety summer darkness,
dimming, fading stars out of the world—

I yearn to hear the night sky sing, yet
May 22
Kittykatruff's picture

Storm

Every time a raindrop falls
someone's swept away in a river of tears;
The clouds mirror their mixed emotions,
lightning is their scattered fears,

The winds all rise in harmony
to wreak chaos on calm stability;
the trees fall, ripped from all they've known,
as the endless storm questions infinity—
May 19
Kittykatruff's picture

Puppy in a Window

May 19
Kittykatruff's picture

Lonely

One of my greatest fears
is being lonely.
To have no one 
who understands me,
or to listen as I 
ponder my deepest thoughts.
I am lucky. 
My friends know me.
even if they do not understand
my words, they're always there
to listen.
Yet
the dark has always
made me feel alone.
It's so isolating,
s e p a r a t i n g  people,
leaving them wondering blindly
where the world went.
One of my worst nightmares 
is being trapped in a dark room,
with no sound but the deafening silence
surrounding me.
The walls close in.
I struggle to breath,
drowning in the darkness—
my fingertips grab desperately
in open air,
and I yearn to make a sound,
any sound, 
to bring sweet relief to my ears,
yet the darkness is too overpowering
and whisks my words away
as soon as they form.
Please don't misunderstand me
and conclude that I'm afraid
Apr 22
Kittykatruff's picture

Can't find the words-time-emotion

I'm sorry I've been gone so long—
I've been so busy, you know time flies.
With work and outside interests
I haven't had any time to rest.
But today as my fingers mechanically typed
I noticed the reflection of the pink, yellow,
orange-streaked sky
in the corner of the computer screen
And saw my forlorn, furrowed brow
And deep-in-thinking, creasing frown
And suddenly remembered how
we used to talk
on the phone,
at night,
a seemingly old form of communication (nowadays),
yet the chatter of two close friends
seemed to light up the room
and warm my heart
every time without fail.
Now, we seldom call except 
to ask a question about homework.

I see you at school every day,
bursting with everything I want to say—
how was your weekend,
here's the story of mine,
did I tell you yet about that time...?
But class starts
and ends
Mar 21
Kittykatruff's picture

In the School Hallway

Around, around, around
words surround me like a song;
the beautiful dissonance
sounds both right and strangely wrong—

Parts of conversations 
fly as mosquitos through the air,
their insistent whines knocking
on my resistant ears,

Snippets find my mind, ringing,
hints of others' lives:
"We got a dog!" "She's so rude"
"Do you want to hang out tonight?"

Around, around, around, 
I'm whirling in the song;
Just one note in a melody,
one person in the throng.
Mar 06
Kittykatruff's picture

When I Read a Book

When I read a book
I feel the words rushing through my veins.
Every syllable, every sound,
is music to my mind.
Parts of the plot
Weave around each other
as melodies intertwined.
Each character becomes
a piece of me:
my hopes, my dreams,
achievements,
prides and flaws,
And I become
every character—
their goal tugs at my every thought, 
Flinging emotions uselessly
at the hurdles I encounter,
the actions I make,
a puppet held captive by
the pen of an author. 

When the book ends, 
I'm left in the world within its pages,
Trapped between the last page
and the cover,
trying in vain 
To push the cover open again,
to see the next part of my story.
Yet the pen has stopped,
the words have ceased,
my story is lost to the wind,
my final line of dialogue
still ringing on my lips. 

I set the book down,
stand up,
Mar 05
Kittykatruff's picture

Fate is a Cat

Fate is a cat.
She treads on silent paws,
Weaving through shadows
until she sees fit to strike,
then pounces with a focused gaze
Upon her helpless chosen prey.

Fate is a cat.
She may walk on
Unnoticed by our busy ears,
but leaves a mark of her prescence
in the shredded yarn, fallen vase,
Crashes one seldom hears
until they find catastrophe
And the world crashes down
on them.

Fate is a cat. 
She stretches out before the fire,
Eyes reflecting golden flames,
Tail flicking back and forth,
dancing in the strange parade.
Her whiskers glisten on the rug,
comfortable with danger near,
She'd rather be close to the war
than wait for trouble to appear.

Fate is a cat.
Purring contentedly,
Eyes half-closed,
she feels at ease even though
the world around her may be cruel,
Fate feels no need to weep or rue.
Dec 19
Kittykatruff's picture

A String of Thoughts

Life 
Is so busy sometimes.
My brain's a muddled mess,
Confused and confuzzled,
A twisting knot of fraying yarn
Batted about by expectations,
as cruel reality 
Sinks her menacing claws
Into my thoughts as she pleases.
I hope my mind of tangled yarn
Is being knitted into something beautiful.
I'll check when I have time,
But until then, I'll simply dream and sigh,
trying to wind my way through life. 

 

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