Katrina
"She Came Into My Desires Like a Category Five Hurricane" - Poetry on Toxic Love and Destructive Desire
She… came into my desires like a category five hurricane
Dismantled my mind state
And left me incapacitated
And I… I was helpless
As I fell hopelessly in lust with the thought of touching her
I needed to fondle her emotions so she would beg me to stay with her
And become a part of her life
Even if that meant only playing a supporting cast member in her storied history played out on wide screens in HD
Instead…
She left me
Silently, without any resolve
Stranded, standing on top of my lust as the flood waters were rising up to consume me
She chooses to ignore me
And forces me to pick up my pen and my pad and thrust upon the pages my rage
The same ways I had wanted to thrust in between her thighs
Experiencing her highs from the insides as our souls became acquainted with one another
Just as we were intended
You see she...
She is my Katrina
The once in a lifetime natural disaster that had me feening after her laughter and her smile
And the touch of her skin on my own
Even though I knew in the end she would leave a path of destruction and devastation that I would never be able to handle alone
Because she...
She is a goddess
And I, a mere mortal
And our lust was only ever meant to be lived out
In the lines of a poem
From my lips to your ears…
© Poetography by The Speechless Poet
AfterWORDS: Katrina
On Range and What “Dangerous” Means
You might notice this piece leans more heartbreak than heat. That’s intentional. Poerotica isn’t just about the explicit — it’s about exploring desire in all its forms, including the destructive ones. The danger isn’t always in the bedroom. Sometimes it’s in falling for someone who was never meant to be yours.
“Where Poetry Gets Dangerous” means I’m not limiting myself to one lane. Some poems will make you blush. Some will make you ache. Some will do both. This one? This one’s about the wreckage left behind when lust masquerades as something it’s not.
If you’re here for only the erotic, that’s coming. But if you’re here for honesty about desire — the messy, complicated, sometimes devastating parts — then you’re in the right place.
The Metaphor That Chose Itself
Hurricane Katrina didn’t just damage buildings. It dismantled entire communities, left people stranded on rooftops waiting for rescue that came too late, flooded everything familiar until the landscape became unrecognizable. That’s not hyperbole. That’s history.
So when I needed to capture what it feels like to be consumed by someone who leaves you in ruins, the metaphor presented itself. Not all relationships are gentle rain showers. Some are category five hurricanes that you see coming but can’t evacuate from. Some leave you standing on the roof of your own desire, watching the flood waters rise, knowing no one’s coming to save you.
The Power Imbalance
“She is a goddess
And I, a mere mortal”
This is the core of why the relationship, or “situationship,” was always doomed. When you enter into something with someone you’ve already elevated to divine status, you’ve lost before you’ve begun. You’re worshipping at an altar that doesn’t need your devotion. You’re a “supporting cast member in her storied history,” and you know it, and you accept it anyway because even the scraps of her attention feel like a feast.
That’s the devastation. Not that she left, but that you knew she would, and you stayed anyway.
The Flood Waters of Desire
“Stranded, standing on top of my lust as the flood waters were rising up to consume me”
This image does everything. You’re literally drowning in your own desire. The thing you wanted — her, the connection, the physical intimacy — has become the thing that’s killing you. And she’s not there. She’s already gone, “silently, without any resolve,” leaving you to deal with the aftermath alone.
The flood doesn’t care about your feelings. Neither does she. Both are forces of nature — indifferent, powerful, unstoppable.
Writing as Survival
“She chooses to ignore me
And forces me to pick up my pen and my pad and thrust upon the pages of my rage”
Here’s where the poem reveals its own creation. She won’t let him touch her, so he thrusts his rage onto pages instead. The creative act becomes a replacement for the physical act he wanted. Poetry isn’t just expression here — it’s the only outlet left when desire has nowhere to go.
And there’s something beautiful and tragic about that. The art exists because the relationship didn’t. The poem is the scar tissue.
The Acceptance
“And our lust was only ever meant to be lived out
In the lines of a poem.”
This ending could be bitter, but it’s not. It’s resigned. Accepting. Some connections exist only in potential, in fantasy, in the space between what you wanted and what was possible. She was never going to be his — not in the way he wanted. But she could be immortalized in verse. The relationship failed, but the poem survives.
That’s the writer’s consolation prize: even destruction makes good material.
The Warning We Ignore
We all have our Katrinas. The person we see coming from a mile away. The one we know will wreck us. The one we pursue anyway because the intensity feels like aliveness, and maybe devastation is better than numbness.
This poem doesn’t moralize about it. It doesn’t say “don’t fall for the hurricanes.” It just documents what it feels like when you do — and what’s left behind when it passes.
Your Thoughts
Who was your Katrina? The person you knew would destroy you but you wanted them anyway? How did you survive the aftermath — or are you still rebuilding?
Drop a comment. Let’s talk about the disasters we chose.
If you enjoyed this, you might also like:
Questions of Curiosity - Another poem about wanting someone you can’t have
Fulfillment - On the hope that this time could be different
I love your breakdown of your poetry! This is so unique (and really helpful). I love poetry, but… sometimes it loses me. I don’t know if you’re aware of the poet David Whyte? He host these live, talks around his poetry and super unique and interesting. You might think about doing that at some point.
Yes we all have our Katrina. Thanks for sharing. 👏🏼👏🏼