Caitlin Collinsworth
I Slept On The Couch Last Night
I slept on the couch last night. I felt like a visitor to my own life. The night before a stranger held me. Tightly I could feel his heartbeat, I dragged my fingers across his chest.
When You Left Me, All I Felt Was Regret
You know never know at the beginning who will leave an impression on you. The shortest stint of an almost lover can weigh heavier than the one I could’ve seen for longer.
I Was Writing About Him Before I Realized I Was Writing About Him
I’ve read countless of hopeful stories about people finding their other halves. I never saw relationships that way.
This Is The End
It’s a peculiar feeling when your walls are painted white once again and you see how many boxes seven years can fit into.
When I Feel Hollow Inside
I told her I felt hollow on the inside. That if I were to tap my sternum all it would do is echo.
These Are The Things I Truly Believe In
I believe in songs on the radio. In shuffle. In chance giving you all the signs you could possibly want.
I Haven’t Stopped Thinking About You
As you were leaving you asked if there was anything else I wanted to tell you. I said no. There are times I have so much to say I can feel it crawling up my throat but nothing comes out.
You Were The Lightning That Coursed Through My Body
A scarless pain with too many metaphors to pick from.
A Note From You, From A Time We’ve Left Behind
I told you, right now, I couldn’t be your forever. We talked about if animals understood forever. Because, so far, every forever we’ve heard has always ended.
The Day You Left, I Filled My Chest With Poetry
My sternum became protruded with all the forgotten love in strangers.
An Open Letter To The Catty Girls
Dear Catty Girls. I wonder what you think when you see yourself in the mirror while you’re brushing your teeth in the morning.
We Watched The Rain Fall As Our Palms Faced The Sky
There was a time when a grey morning sky convinced our eyes to shut and our limbs to intertwine.
For Me, My Home Is On My Feet
I have spent countless hours traveling to see where I belong.
Like Atoms, Our Relationship Was Mostly Just Space
I could feel the space between us, even though you were breathing next to me.
The More You Break Your Heart, The Better Off You Are
I don’t understand chance or why strangers in the dark can change everything. There is something about graffiti hidden in a dive bar.
Spending October In San Francisco
Graffiti is a novelty, looking at artistry in places unallowed. It consumes here, too much of something will typically kill.
I Hate Math
What is the equation for how your eyes used to look at me?
Together, Our Hands Have A Time Limit
My hands feel heavy when I am close to you.