Do not trust people like me I will take you to museums and parks and monuments And kiss you in every beautiful place so that you can never go there again without tasting me like blood in your mouth And when I leave you will finally understand Why storms are named after people.
Katherine Auden Colt Your name is Colt, Katherine Colt.
You go by many names. Kat, Kitty, Colt. You are 5 ft 6 inches of bold stubbornness that has lived on this Earth for 27 years. You were born into a family of inventing hunters on February 29 in Lawrence, Kansas. You hold an athletic pear like shape, with eyes and hair of chocolate brown. You grew up on the road. You grew up in hotels, friend's guest bedrooms and the backseat of your parents' 1970's Volkswagen beetle. You still drive that beetle to this day. You began as a very bubbly girl with a creative edge. You grew and life on the road slowly took its toll. You became a planner and a thinker. Your Colt curiosity took form as an inventor. You have a sister. You are very protective and family-centered. Your sister's name is Annabel Lee. You sister is in her tomb by the sounding sea. You are very emotionless. You had a sister. You have anxiety and PTSD. You are alcoholic. You have lost everyone to a demon. You are the Keeper. You keep what needs to stay in - in and out - out. You are the Gate. You are Katherine Auden Colt. And you are an unstitched doll, learning her parts as she looses them.