Kathryn D'Agostino

Tag: healing

  • You are here

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in ,

    I know it’s unfair that I don’t name my trauma. I’ve never explicitly written about it. There are approximately 40 people in the whole world who know what I’m referencing when I speak of my trauma. But I also know that won’t always be the case. Whether people agree with it or not I am…

  • I am

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    I’m not choosing anymore Planning what Im going to be No I’m doing I am I’m me

  • Dark

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    The darkness is insatiable devouring me limb from limb. Plucking every eyelash. Dislocating each finger. Evil has no boundaries, no limits. No goals. It feeds off of blackened hearts and troubled souls. It doesn’t need oxygen or life affirming care. It keeps going growing with no air. Darkness is spreading over me, hands tangled in…

  • Finished

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    Its finalOr is it? What’s over and what ended?Im still here You’re here reading this Everything ends And then everything starts again Poems don’t die on the pageWords infect Latch on and dont let go You make and you worryOverthink everything Then nothing But the world wont stop spinning People wont stop trying and doing…

  • Naked

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    Cool and damp earth presses against my skin, moisture seeps through my cotton shirt, an ant is crawling across my bare shin. I can hear the rain dropping rhythmically on the tin roof and sliding down the wall of glass. I can’t see the outside world and no one can see me here on this…

  • Octopus Advice

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    I’ve meditated every morning for the past 209 days. By the time you’re reading this, it’ll be longer than that. I can genuinely say it has helped. But I still cry in the car and escape to the bathroom when I feel the first chest crushing blows of a panic attack. I don’t have the…

  • Another Friday

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    My brain is meltingIt’s everywhere and nowhere.It doesn’t belong.Where is it? And it can’t be where it belongs.I don’t want to understand why someone would taste cold hard metal.I don’t want to feel a kinship for walking away.But I do.I feel it all. The hope and despair.Wanting to know, wanting to forget It’s everywhere and…

  • Grasping

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    My hands are covered in dirtI’ve been grasping Pebbles are embedded in my palms Flowers bloom from my fingertips I keep tryingSinking my hands into the moist warm earth I’m searching For deep roots or a boulderI want to hold onI need something to hold onto I’m watching my own frantic effort to remain clinging…

  • Alone

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    Longing feels different here. In this moment.In this place. I want someone to read this. I want someone to hear this. I want other people to carry this burden with and for me. I know that’s unfair to ask.But I don’t care. I hate that. I lack. I lack the capacity to feign interest Or…

  • Spiral

    —

    by

    Kathryn D’Agostino
    in

    “Sometimes things go too fast and too slow all at once.” – July 19th I found this note today while tidying up my studio and realized I hadn’t sat down to look through pictures or even think much about this past weekend in Corner Brook. So much of my life the past couple of years…