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Hannah Marr Jun 2018
Wrapped in a towel
Clutching the sides of the sink
She gazes into the mirror

The shower has fogged the glass
But faint impressions still bleed through

Her face a
Honey-brown framed
Pale oval
Inlaid with
Two grey flecks
Under arched brows
With underlying shadows

Faint imprint of cheekbones
Jawline
That hollow of the throat
Collarbones

All shadows
Ideas
Obscured by condensation
Wreathed in man-made mist

The concept of a person
Rather than the person herself

h.f.m.
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
i must continue on                                                                          ­           
i must                                                                                         ­                 
                                               ­                                                   why is that?
                                                           ­                                    must i really?
it was a promise                                                          ­                                
i don't break promises                                                         ­                       
                                                                ­                                            right
             ­                                                                 ­             of course i don't
shut up                                                               ­                                           
                     ­                                                                 ­       because really,
                                                         ­                            i've only used them
                                                            ­                                      as excuses
                                                       ­                                     because of how
                                                                ­                                 afraid i am
shut up                                                              ­                                         
                       ­                                                                 ­               make me
please stop fighting
                                                        ­                                  what's it so you?
this is my head
it's mine too                                                              ­                                    
                                                                ­                                       and mine
just be quiet
for one night
please
okay                                                ­                                                      okay
      ­                                                                 ­                don't think i won't
                                                           ­                                  finish this later
shut                                                      ­                                                       
up
                                                             ­                                                  
please

h.f.­m.
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
(dedicated to the poet, critic, and anarchist, Sir Herbert Read)

inherently poetry is a unique form of satire
a pathway paved by individuals towards soft rebellion
a revolt intended to spur the populace towards original thought
similar to how a dandelion,
considered a ****,
grows through concrete anyway,
a slow, deliberate strength
that can only be possessed by life
and of course poetry is this life,
the measure of one's soul
laid bare to convict and encourage
humanity without its mask is the individual
who, while supported by others,
is independent in themselves
and can thrive off of their own art
while leading and following others through theirs

h.f.m.
"The great modern heresy in poetry is to confuse the use we make of words in a poem with modalities of speech...For true poetry is never speech but always a song."

"Revolt, it will be said, implies violence; but this is an outmoded, an incompetent conception of revolt. The most effective form of revolt in this violent world we live in is non-violence."

"The farther a society progresses, the more clearly the individual becomes the antithesis of the group."

"The modern work of art, as I have said, is a symbol."

"That is why I believe that art is so much more significant than either economics or philosophy. It is the direct measure of man's spiritual vision."

"The worth of a civilization or a culture is not valued in the terms of its material wealth or military power, but by the quality and achievements of its representative individuals - its philosophers, its poets and its artists."

"Art is pattern informed by sensibility."

"I know of no better name than Anarchism."

"The point I am making is that in the more primitive forms of society the individual is merely a unit; in more developed forms of society he is an independent personality."

-quotes by Sir Herbert Edward Read
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
i feel sick,
but not in a way that can be

easily understood

i don't necessarily feel nauseous
but i can taste bile
in the back of my mouth

i don't have a headache, per se
but my head feels so heavy, and light

it's dizzying

disorienting

and sometimes i feel more alseep
than awake

and words lodge themselves
in my throat
as if to suffocate

and i cannot

hope

to

string them
together
for

the life

of
me

i feel sick,
but i'm not
am i?

h.f.m.
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