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I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.

Emily Kurc

When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.
EMILY KURC

Beginning Fall Leaves Name Old Play Return Sing Song Yourself
I miss the sweat of september and the stickiness of the sheets.
EMILY KURC

Bed Love Missing Myself Romance Togetherness
I woke up this morning and for once, I had no desire to drink my morning coffee. Is that how it felt for you to wake up and never return?
EMILY KURC

Coffee Desire Drink Morning Return Wake Up Yourself
I like to think of myself as the sun, but it gets really lonely all the way out here especially when everything I try to touch burns.
EMILY KURC

Burn Lonely Myself Sun Thinking Touch Try
I taught you how to love so you could get it right with someone else.
EMILY KURC

Love Myself Right Teaching Yourself
Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?
EMILY KURC

Feeling Flame Forget Ghost Haunt Old Philosophy
The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.
EMILY KURC

Brave Enough Future Talk Worth
Each night I sit at my windowsill like a wolf howling to the moon, hoping that somewhere you feel me calling to you.
EMILY KURC

Call Feeling Myself Night Wolf Yourself
I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.
EMILY KURC

Current heavy Myself Shadow
My mother always told me that love is like a plant, but she never prepared me for the realization that too much love towards the wrong person can drown your heart until it rots.
EMILY KURC

Heart Love Mom Myself Preparation Realization
I bet my words are still tangled beneath that streetlight fighting for the right combination to stay.
EMILY KURC

Breathe Combination Fight Light Myself Right Stay Word
Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.
EMILY KURC

Hurt Leaving Love Myself Poetry Time
When I look at you, I see the moon – I wish you could see that you’re every poets muse.
EMILY KURC

Moon Poet See Worth Writing Yourself
In a dream like haze, the moment you left still spins on repeat like a broken record.
EMILY KURC

Break Dreams Moments Repeat
We all show our true colors eventually – mine is dark and firesome red. I bet I burned you. I don’t expect to see you soon.
EMILY KURC

Burn Color Darkness Expectation Myself True Yourself
There was a time when I loved you too much that it made me feel the darkest shades of blue. It’s been years now, but I’m seeing life in other colors again.
EMILY KURC

Darkness Feeling Life Love Relationship Time Yourself
A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.
EMILY KURC

Ourselves Place Separation Story Trouble Writing
I think I’ll always remember your birthday and the way you took your coffee because they’ll forever be pieces of you I cannot burn.
EMILY KURC

Burn Coffee Forever Myself Pieces Remember Thinking Way
The sky was crying so I wiped away her tears, just like all the times she did the same me.
EMILY KURC

Cry Myself Sky Tears Time
Occasionally, the sun is eclipsed by the body of a weeping human. Her tears make the soil harden and crust like the top of a burnt load of bread.
EMILY KURC

Body Cry Eclipse Food Herself Human Occasion Sun
I laugh and I cry and I reason on until the late night, but I never feel the urge to call you. The person that I once knew is forever frozen in time.
EMILY KURC

Cry Laughter Myself Night Reason Time
There were still embers scattered around me from the bridges I have burned. I wonder if they can feel it too. The space between us lingering like a scarlet letter, I’m learning how to love again.
EMILY KURC

Bridge Learning Love Myself Scatter Wonder
Be here with me tonight, and lets sing the saddest moon song there ever was.
EMILY KURC

Moon Night Sad Sing Togetherness
You don’t deserve my poetry. I hate that I give you that satisfaction still.
EMILY KURC

Deserve Myself Poetry Satisfaction
I hope you think of me during every thunderstorm.
EMILY KURC

Hope Myself Storm Thinking
I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.
EMILY KURC

Addiction Cruel Love Myself Need Poem Writing
The sun touched your skin with innocent delicacy as if you were a work of out that was made to be admired deeply.
EMILY KURC

Admire Deep Innocence Skin Sun Touch Yourself

I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.

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I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.

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