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 Jun 2018 Hannah Marr
MsAmendable
We dance in the ashes like
Literary scavengers.
In the ruins and after rages
We draw the shreds of words and pages
Around our naked bodies like Blankets,
A quilt of the quintessential struggle
Which all people suffer
I'm not sure if I posted this before,  but it's have been a while. I wrote this not too long after reading "the Book Theif" which was wonderful
their first
and last mistake
was thinking that she was a flower
or anything fragile or gentle
though she looked like silk and velvet
she felt like broken glass and iron
and it cut deeply into your skin
your mind
your soul
spilling your blood as she went
perhaps rainstorms and romantic lullabies
are more your kind of fairytale
but you'll never again deny her power
her dark and wondrous power
like lightning across the darkest of clouds  
the fire and brimstone of Tartarus
the grey and wild lashing of the ocean
- s.m.t // draft
concupiscent (adjective)
1. lustful or desirous
2. eagerly desirous
we comfort our souls with lies
and we
burn our homes to be free.

we dab perfume on our dead bodies
and we
stitch smiles on faces to be happy.

we turn up the music (too loud)
to be deaf upon the cries of our names
wedged between curses
and scorching regrets.

we try to dance along with the songs
of ghosts -
whose skeletons have been
long forgotten in our antique closets.

we drain bottle after bottle,
light a cigarette after another,
**** ourselves so we don't die -
a surrender to loneliness is worse, after all.

and so...

we say goodbye without considering
that we are worthy enough to stay,
we apologize for the words
we actually meant to say.

we crawl back to our hollowed grounds -
yet we love with the strength of that
who has never been loved.

we travel barefoot on unknown,
desolate roads
in the hopes to find where we belong.

we do the mistakes we've done before,
not because we are stupid,
but god, because we've learned.
When youth comes crawling to me
On it's hands and knees
Tears in its eyes
Begging
"Make the pain go away, help me, please."
I simply smile
And kiss it's damp cheek
Then laugh a little laugh
For youth is always weak
You can call me hurtful
You can call me mean
But I crouch down and say to youth
"Don't worry, everyone wants to die when they're seventeen."

                     **The Suicide Diaries
 May 2018 Hannah Marr
Traveler
Blessing, I can say
I still have my share
Simultaneously
Curses upon curses
Slowly strip me bare

Beautiful dreams
Mixed in nightmarish themes  
We've all met the dark
With the voiceless scream
No one immune
To this dysfunctional maze
No one gets out alive
Of this breath taking play

Oh but from the heart of a child
It was every bit worthwhile!
Traveler Tim
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