black
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Men like you were never meant for storms like us.

Emily Kurc

A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.
EMILY KURC

Ourselves Place Separation Story Trouble Writing
He grabbed my hand as the flames licked at my feet and the devil and I danced.
EMILY KURC

Dance Devil Flame Hands Myself
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
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
There was a hesitation in your touch only time could see.
EMILY KURC

Hesitation See Time Touch Yourself
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice
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
Be here with me tonight, and lets sing the saddest moon song there ever was.
EMILY KURC

Moon Night Sad Sing Togetherness
I hope you think of me during every thunderstorm.
EMILY KURC

Hope Myself Storm Thinking
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
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
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
I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.
EMILY KURC

Current heavy Myself Shadow
You don’t deserve my poetry. I hate that I give you that satisfaction still.
EMILY KURC

Deserve Myself Poetry Satisfaction
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

Men like you were never meant for storms like us.

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Men like you were never meant for storms like us.

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