A/N: Not exactly in a regular fanfic format, but written while I was experimenting with poetry. Deals with the idea of what Kate would do if Jack got the "sickness" of the island.
--
I.
Biological daddy's dead,
crackled in flames and gasoline.
The one she actually called daddy
died inside the day she committed the murder.
Dead is her childhood sweetheart,
oozing his love for her out of his bulleted chest.
She bolted before she could get to her husband;
sometimes she wonders if he goes on living without her,
or if he died, too.
It's all her fault.
II.
Eyes lock for the first time.
He sees her soul right away,
melting her iron barred heart;
barred like the cold jail cells she always ran away from.
She knows instantly that he's going to
make her fall.
III.
Kiss, terror, kidnapping.
Is he dead or alive?!
Clutching at a cage and clinging to another man,
her face remembers him;
the doctor who had almost fixed her.
IV.
Alive, but haunted.
Stabbing, needled betrayal and simmering, hollowed jealousy radiate from his
indifferent gaze and tired body.
And still, the tender whisper of
"I love you."
The lemoned sweetness of his smile,
knees buckle,
and she's thisclose to being buried with her sins.
(But he heals her without trying.)
V.
The sickness comes
and he can't even save himself.
Hard metal trembles in her sticky hands and the rain
reflects gray-green in her eyes.
His calm, moonlike face dances like the stars in the sky
above them.
Broken, blooming sorrow and duty rise, mix,
spill out of her dirty pores.
One, two, three, four, five.
VI.
(Standard) black thread kept her heart together.
But he's lying in the sand, surrounded by a red halo.
She falls,
down, down, down, crashing;
she doesn't know if she'll ever get up.
VII.
She's always killed the men she loves.
