Katarzyna Anna Koziorowska

@katarzynakoziorowska
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THE WEIGHT OF WHAT STILL BREATHES

Memories do not fade here—
they sharpen,
like glass left in water too long.

I carry them in my pockets,
heavy with fingerprints,
warm as a pulse under skin.

They speak in ordinary sounds:
a door closing,
my name said without urgency.

Sometimes they stand in front of me,
blocking the present,
casting shadows the future steps into.

I call this remembering,
but it feels more like being touched.

#poetry #poems #poem #poet #literature

AFTERIMAGES

Memories do not fade—
they breathe.

They sit on the edge of the bed
while the room pretends to be empty,
touching nothing,
changing everything.

I hear them in ordinary sounds:
a door closing too gently,
a glass set down with care,
the pause before a name is spoken.

They arrive without warning,
not as ghosts
but as weather—
sudden, intimate, undeniable.

The past does not live behind me;
it stands beside me,
warm, alert, and painfully real.

#poetry #poems #poem #poet #literature