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229 · Apr 2018
CYNIC
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
CYNIC
noun

1. you call me pessimist— doubter, defeatist, doomwatcher. you might as well add dangerous, defiant, disruptive to your list. you dare label me? you who believe the common people —the world— can do no wrong? you prove my point, hypocrite. am i not a person with second chances? or am i entirely deserving of your up-to-now withheld scorn, merely for the fact that i now see the truth clearly and you remain pitifully blind?

2. how can i trust when all trust, again and again, is proven unfounded? people just want something from you. they always want something. you are dangerously naive to believe otherwise.

3. do not pity me. i care not for your sympathy. i prefer your revulsion, your loathing. at least then you know like i do. you know the truth —inherently we are selfish inherently we are self-centered inherently we are self-serving inherently we only care about self self self— i only care about myself. you only care about yourself.

4. bitter, sardonic laughter follows my every word. i know the truth because if all only care or self, they can only see if they don't even care that much. i am apathy incarnate, no emotion clouds my vision. i see all, and know that honor does not exist outside fantasy and fable.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
227 · Apr 2018
LOVE POEMS
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
LOVE POEMS
It is an opinion that I have oft' expressed
to family and friends
that love poems are the epicenter
of the stereotypical romantic cliche.

The problem with someone like myself
expressing such a thought
is that I have no basis of comparison
to determine the worth of such a poem.

You see, in my experience, such things
can be correctly valued
only by those who have an objective
understanding of love and poetry both.

I, unlike most, have not the credentials
to evaluate either
since I am a novice in one
and greatly biased in the other.

There is the possibility that jealousy
is the root of this view
since I have not experienced love
and cannot poetically imitate such passion.

Lonesomeness breeds bitterness
breeds loathing
breeds scorn, and ridicule, and
I cannot honestly deny these in myself.

Love poems, I admit, are quite beautiful
though equally painful
odes to a complexity far beyond
the realm of my limited understanding.

It is an opinion that I have oft' expressed
to family and friends
that love poems are the epicenter
of the stereotypical romantic cliche.

Which, I suppose, is not really a bad thing.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
217 · May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: HOSPITAL
Hannah Marr May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: HOSPITAL
­                                        
                                                                ­                                       "Terry!"

"Whoa, Aaron.
Calm down a bit, yeah?"

                                                         ­                                   "Calm down?
                                                          ­                                           Seriously?
                                                      ­                In case you haven't noticed,
                                                        ­                    you're in a hospital bed.
                                                            ­    I think that is reason to worry."

"I'm fine."

                                                         ­                                  "No, you're not.
                                                            ­                I know why you're here.
                                                           ­                         The doctors told me
                                                                ­                       when they called."

"..."

                                                ­                          "Do you have anything to
                                                              ­                          say for yourself?"

"..."

                                              ­                                                     "Terry, you
                                                                ­                                   promised
                                                      ­              you would never do it again.
                                                          ­                     You promised, Terry.
                                                          ­                           You promised me."

"I know.
That promise
is how I got myself here.
It gave me enough will-power
to save myself."

                                                       ­                                "That wasn't what
                                                            ­             the promise was there for.
                                                            ­                            It was to stop you
                                                             ­               before this happened!"

"...
I'm sorry, Aaron."

                                                        ­                                     "Words, Terry.
                                                          ­                          They're just words."

"I'm sorry, Aaron!
I don't know what else to say!"

                                                        "Y­ou could've been dead right now!
                                         You would have been gone for good, Terry!"

"I know!"

                                                       ­                                                  "Really?
                                                        ­                                               Do you?"

"I do.
I do know.
I also know
I'll never be able to
make it up to you."

                                                          ­                                                       "..."

"..."

                                                   ­                                                              "..."

"Aaron?"

                                                ­                                                "Sorry, Terry.
                                                          ­                    I shouldn't have yelled.
                                                         ­                     I was tired, and scared.
                                                         ­               More scared than I've been
                                                            ­                    since, well, last time.
                                                           ­   More scared, if I'm being honest,
                                                         because this time was despite me.
                                                    But you're the one in the hospital bed.
                                                            ­  You're the one who almost died.
                                                           ­                                                Sorry."

"No, don't apologize.
You have every right
to yell at me.
What I did was stupid—"

                                                       ­                                   "—not stupid!"

"Let me finish!
What I did was stupid
and ill-advised.
It was a moment of weakness—
Don't interrupt!
It was a moment of weakness
and it won't happen again
if I can help it."

                                                           ­                                            "Terry—"

"No, don't talk.
I'm the one who's sorry."

                                                        ­                                                         "..."

"I'm glad you're here, Aaron."

                                                        ­      "I came as soon as I got the call."

"It was lonely 'till you got here."

                                                         ­                 "Has no one else visited?"

"No one else knows.
There is no one else."

                                                         ­                                         "Oh, Terry."

"It's okay.
I'm fine with just you.
You're the one who's kept me alive this long,
right?"

                                                  ­                                                                 "...
                                                            ­                                      I should go.
                                                             ­                     I've been here longer
                                                          ­                           than I was allowed.
                                                        ­                  The doctor will get mad."

"You'll visit again?"

                                                        ­                                            "Of course.
                                                                ­                            Every day until
                                                           ­                          you're discharged."

"Thanks, Aaron."

                                                        ­              "There's no need for thanks.
                                                         ­                 We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes.
Yes we are."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
210 · Jun 2018
IS IT THE SAME?
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
IS IT THE SAME?
is it the same
to not want to live forever and to want to die?

is it the same
to want to drive off the map and to run until your lungs bleed?

is it the same
to speak without substance and to write without voice?

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
208 · Apr 2018
NOT ALL, NOT EVERY
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
NOT ALL, NOT EVERY
Not all lies are lyrical
Not every city is safe
Not all bruises are galaxy spirals
Not every spirit's a wraith

Not all poetry is written to please
Not every song will go viral
Not all jobs contain passion
Not every foe is a rival

Not all skies are this sunny
Not every rose has thorns
Not all of my thoughts are happy
Not every devil has horns

Not all of these demons are shadows
Not every rhyme can be catchy
Not all confessions are truth
Not every poet is happy

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
208 · May 2018
PLUGGED IN AS WE ARE, WE MIGHT AS WELL SPEAK IN BINARY
Hannah Marr May 2018
PLUGGED IN AS WE ARE, WE MIGHT AS WELL SPEAK IN BINARY
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h.f.m.
Continue reading...
207 · May 2018
ONE LIFE
Hannah Marr May 2018
ONE LIFE
One step at a time, on this lonely road.
One word at a time, that's the story's flow.
One song, one go. Put on a show.
One cry, final breath, sinking slowly down to death.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
197 · Aug 2018
STARFIRE SKELETON
Hannah Marr Aug 2018
STARFIRE SKELETON
take a baseball bat to
your brother's car.
strike out and
light your matchstick bones,
burning a high fever that
scorches your torn-paper skin,
branding your shattered limbs with the
ink-black, swirling lightning of
your childhood's summer storms.
a tattooed promise along
taut shoulders, bearing,
like atlas, the sky,
with the north star
guiding you towards
peaceful slumber, and
home.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
194 · May 2018
I AM AND HAVE BEEN
Hannah Marr May 2018
I AM AND HAVE BEEN
I HAVE BEEN
pain
sinner
hater
villain
coward
deficit
betrayer
destroyer
­liar
void
depression
hollow

I AM
sister
daughter
child
peacekeeper
investigator
dreamer
seeker
­explorer
comforter
maker
storyteller
poet

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
194 · Aug 2018
COMPASS, COMPASS
Hannah Marr Aug 2018
COMPASS, COMPASS
inner compass, guide me home
i'm lost in the dark, all alone
moral compass, calm my fears
make good choices, dry my tears
compass, compass, lead me forth
marching towards my heart's true north

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
186 · Apr 2018
LET'S TALK
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
LET'S TALK
We haven't seen each other for three years and now you want to talk?
Fine, okay, let's talk.
Let's talk about how you took an impressionable kid and twisted them into what you wanted.
Let's talk about how the world revolved around you, according to you.
Let's talk about how you took my name, spit on it, and dragged it through the dust.
Let's talk about how when you had someone, they had to fight for you to let them go.
Let's talk about how I was the first to put you in your place
And now you want be to come crawling back?
Unbelievable.

Let's talk about how I never want to see you again.
Let's talk about how I never want to speak to you again.
Let's talk about how I never even want to think about you again.
Let's talk about how you can't touch me, now that I'm free of you.

And let's talk about all of this over the phone,
Because I can't stand to see your face.
Better yet, let's talk over text,
Because your voice itself makes me sick.
And when we're done —no, when I'M done—
Forget my name.
Forget my voice.
Forget my face.

I never want to hear from you again.
You're finished.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
184 · Sep 2018
WHAT'S THE POINT?
Hannah Marr Sep 2018
WHAT'S THE POINT?
i.
i wonder why i write anymore
why i agonize over a few lines of ink
on a piece of paper
what am i even trying to say?
i keep contradicting myself:
in one poem i decry my pain,
and plead for anyone to
heed what i hide
in the next

ii.
these words have no rhythm
no measure no
plan
they are
as senseless and chaotic
as
my desire for
rest and my
aversion
from sleep

iii.
do these thoughts even
mean anything?
are these thoughts
even real?
am i
real?

iv.
time is running
but i'm not going to chase it
there's no reason to
when it ends, it ends
and i don't particularly want to extend it

v.
i don't know what i want anymore

vi.
i don't know what i am

vii.
why am i here?

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
180 · May 2018
INSOMNIA
Hannah Marr May 2018
INSOMNIA
It is coming
My cataclysm
I am being watched, but there's no one there
I keep waking up when I'm not asleep
The lasts whispers of my dreams
Are the skeletal remains of a macabre nightmare
I am so tired, but I cannot sleep
What is the difference between dreams and reality?
I can no longer tell if I am asleep or awake
I fear the night
I live in terror of my own mind
...
I'd rather stay awake anyway

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
180 · May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: FUTURE FOCUS
Hannah Marr May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: FUTURE FOCUS

                                                               ­                               "It's midnight,
                                                       ­       and you're not in the apartment.
                                                      ­                 Where are you right now?"

"I'm lying on my back
in the forest
hoping to take root
so I don't have to
go to school tomorrow."

                                                    ­                           "You're the one paying
                                                          ­                   for your college tuition.
                                                        ­                                        It's your loss.
                                                           ­                                    But seriously,
                                                      ­                                          you can't just
                                                                ­                                      disappear
                 ­                                                        without warning like that.
                                                           ­   It nearly gave me a heart attack."

"You do care.
I wasn't sure."

                                                        ­                                      "How can you
                                                                ­                  even joke about that?
                                                           ­                           I was worried sick.
                                                           ­                              You're in a forest
                                                        ­                             for crying out loud.
                                                           ­  What if you get eaten by a bear?"

"Then I'll see you again
in the afterlife.
And I won't have
to finish college."

                                                     ­                   "I can't believe you, Terry.
                                                          ­                               Just come home."

"Okay,
if you insist."

                                                      ­                                                        "I do.
                                                             ­                                      I really do."

"..."

                                                  ­                                               "Please don't
                                                           ­                             scare me like that
                                                            ­                                               again."

"I won't.
Sorry."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
179 · Apr 2018
EVERYTHING THAT FELT WRONG TODAY: PART 7
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
EVERYTHING THAT FELT WRONG TODAY: PART 7
CLASS
the teacher's voice buzzing, buzzing
over your head
why can't you concentrate?
you look at the writing on the board
it is a language you have forgotten how to read
time is a loop, this minute this minute this—

h.f.m.
maybe it's not any of these that are wrong
maybe it's just me
Continue reading...
178 · Mar 2019
SONNET I
Hannah Marr Mar 2019
SONNET I
Though inexperienc'd I am, I think,
From what mine own ears have heard oft' express'd,
Love, an o'erwrought and tempestuous drink,
Fallen in and out of leaves one sore stress'd.
Like looking upon the bright, burning sun,
Such a beauty that leaves one blind,
Love brings sweet pain that cannot be undone,
And leaving one to stumble, left behind.
Call me cynic if my words offend thee,
Call me a villain, destroyer of dreams,
But do you not wish to roam, to be free?
I do not wish to be bound, by no means.
Though if my mind were so soften'd to love
'Twould be by someone I've not yet heard of.

h.f.m.
Shakespearean sonnet
Continue reading...
178 · Feb 2019
WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
Hannah Marr Feb 2019
WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
does it mean something
if my lungs catch on fire
whenever i see you?

h.f.m.
haiku
Continue reading...
178 · May 2018
OUT AT MIDNIGHT
Hannah Marr May 2018
OUT AT MIDNIGHT
foggy street-lamp lit streets
concrete dark with damp and dusk

adrenaline, my constant companion
that thrill of fear curled 'round my spine
snaking between me shoulderblades
white-knuckle clutched switchblade
hidden beneath a cloaking fold
ready to pounce and draw in red

think me a pretty petty foolish maiden?
i'd like to see you try to touch me
to quench your ravenous thirst
and feel my sting through skin
to quench my own lust

foggy street-lamp lit streets
the concrete dark with damp and dusk and
doomed men's blood

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
173 · Jun 2018
END WELL
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
END WELL
i wanted to go to my end with dignity
heavy head held high
and eyes dry

i wanted to go out with a bang
a story to remember me by
and a warning

i wanted my death to mean something
saving one life or many
and remembered

i wanted my life to have been fulfilled
succeeding where others failed
and leaving a legacy

now

i want to greet oblivion as a friend
trading tall tails, gifts,
and embracing

i want to go out quietly
a small flicker of flame
and smoke

i want my death to be quick
sliding away easily
and painlessly

i want to slip down the well's bucket rope
reach the frayed end
and let go

h.f.m
Continue reading...
173 · Aug 2018
DYING DREAM
Hannah Marr Aug 2018
DYING DREAM
I dreamed about dying last night.
I was in a plane over icy tundra,
hurtling towards the ground,
but it wasn't the crash that killed me.

I dreamed about dying last night.
The wreckage was quickly surrounded,
wild animals pawing through the ruins,
but it wasn't the teeth and claws that killed me.

I dreamed about dying last night.
I wandered the snow wastes,
lost and frostbitten,
but it wasn't the cold that killed me.

I dreamed about dying last night.
I wasn't done in by the trauma or hungry animals or cold.
I was finally killed by myself.
I gave in and fell asleep.

I woke with a start,
in my bed,
afraid and forgetting.

I dreamed about dying last night.
Still not sure if it meant anything.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
170 · Apr 2018
ALL OF THE SOUL
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
ALL OF THE SOUL
Once, in a dream, I walked the night sky
Draped in nothing but constellations
I plucked a dying star from the velvet dark
Held it between my teeth as I plummeted
And kissed dirt
All at once buried and carressed
With a smoking crater for a bed
I slept
Feverish with sparks
Flying off me to ignite the world

Now, when I am awake, I walk barefoot across concrete
Dressed in baggy, shapeless clothes
I put a cigarette to my lips
Hold the smoke in my lungs as I stop
Under a street lamp
All at once illuminated and invisible
With a jackhammer for a heart I grin
Into the shadows
Feral with a darkness
Of my own that can rival even the night

Someday, in a story, I will walk on embers
Clothed in flame and majesty
I will taste prophecy on my tongue
Archaic syllables filled with bitter triumph
As I burn
All at once incandescent and lethal
With a last cruel smile for a dark world
I will denounce it
Free with a light
Searing spirit encompassing all of time

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
170 · Oct 2018
AGELESS (2.0)
Hannah Marr Oct 2018
AGELESS (2.0)
i.
you are older than the stones beneath
your calloused feet,
but somehow you feel young,
still childlike in your naivety
despite the fact that the world
has conspired
to throw you to the rocks below.
the waves crash over your broken form,
but you are still gazing up
at the diving birds.

ii.
give this beach a washed up body,
these waves a soul to caress.
give these fish some bones to nibble,
these seagulls some remains to harass.
broken and battered,
bloated and blue,
they'd find you
on the stones with the surf
soaking your skin.
a gift to the sea
and whatever deity of death
that would come to claim
the spirit left behind.

iii.
alas,
if only oblivion were such
an easy acquisition.
you crawl from the sea-foam,
reborn anew in your silver-skinned glory.
they are distraught
by your survival,
but they should've known
that you will not die
until your time.
you cannot.
there are still things you must do
before you are granted your end.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
170 · May 2018
I MAKE CORPSES AS I SPEAK
Hannah Marr May 2018
I MAKE CORPSES AS I SPEAK
My teeth are an enamel cage, bared in a pearl-polished snarl,
guarding the hateful words on my tongue—
my razor-tongue, craving blood drawn
from sharp wit and cutting retorts.

My voice is a savage, willful thing,
and unchecked wreaks chaotic, senseless havoc.
It would desecrate all that is holy with foul curses
and disparage friend and foe alike with vile slurs and slander.
Bitter irony and sarcasm are its weapons of choice
tearing into the flesh where it hurts,
where weaknesses have been laid bare,
an uncouth performance of a twisted humor
at the expense of everyone else involved.

And so I lock my lips and throw away the key
to prevent my keen eyes from becoming an accomplice to ******.
My voice would steal the secrets they see
and warp them into a mocking mimicry
to parrot to those who would only do more harm.

The syllables I speak are lethal.
I would rather be mute than wound with my words.

My teeth are an enamel cage, bared in a pearl-polished snarl,
guarding the hateful words on my tongue.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
169 · Jun 2019
THIS IS A SONG CALLED FEAR
Hannah Marr Jun 2019
THIS IS A SONG CALLED FEAR
i.
this is a song called fear and it consists of late nights crying silently in the bathroom and the sound of falling without hitting the ground.

ii.
you always used to run your fingers through my hair, a guardian angel from the next room over, whenever i startled awake at night, struggling to remember how to expel the air from my lungs. you were too soft on me, murmuring heartbreaking words of encouragement and wonder. if only you knew that my dreams were not loss of fire but loosing of rage, and you were the only casualty (casualty of my own internal conflict, acidic self-loathing attacking this peculiar kind of love).

iii.
i will not leave you, a whisper in what sounds like your voice, but this cold heart of mine cannot hope to believe it. i have been left too many times to count, by all but the demons dancing around the bonfire of my mind. you may love me as you say, brother, but i will only cause you pain.

iv.
i am always running, running, running, the soles of my shoes melting into the tarmac with heat rising in waves to blur the air (or it could just be my tired eyes playing their old tricks). the monsters are nipping at my heels, and i would not be able to live with myself if i led them to you.

v.
please forgive me for what i must do to protect my family (to protect you).

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
169 · May 2018
INURE
Hannah Marr May 2018
INURE
verb

1. i am no stranger to tormentum, to cruciatu. i have become champion to my own mind, with dead languages on my tongue. Ego summitatem parietum and I will not be restrained again.

2. i choose to be unknowable, to be Intemerata. you must work to uncover my secrets, to comprehend my speech. my soul is not free to any who might stumble across it, as it once was. because of the past failures of others, anima mea constringitur, corrupta est anima mea.

3. calloused and consuevit i stare unflinchingly into the void. i almost welcome the glacies seeping into my veins.

4. pompous and presumptuous, is that what you think of me? you know nothing but my superficial mask. loqueris ad me and we shall see.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
168 · May 2018
BECAUSE OF THAT PHONE CALL
Hannah Marr May 2018
BECAUSE OF THAT PHONE CALL
He used to call home once a week
But now because of that phone call
He's just staring at the phone, hoping it'll ring

He used to work on on oil rig in Canada
But now because of that phone call
He's on a southbound train to his hometown

He used to smile at the children who played next door
But now because of that phone call
He's wishing he could go back to when he was like them

He used to think his father never cried
But now because of that phone call
He's watching him shake with sobs, his face streaked with tears

He used to think of his mother as such a living thing
But now because of that phone call
He's standing at her grave and longing to hug her one more
time

h.f.m.
Part of my Story Time collection
Continue reading...
167 · May 2018
BLOOD MONEY
Hannah Marr May 2018
BLOOD MONEY
it's funny, the fact that your knife
is buried solidly between my shoulder blades
only makes me doubt myself,
not you

how could i trust so easily?

you double-crossed me
and left me to deal with the consequences
of your actions
without so much as a backward glance

do you have no remorse?

even a kiss on the cheek before you sold me out
like Judas himself
some kind of warning
would have been nice
so i could know, so i could expect
to be choking and coughing up blood
your blade in my lungs
my face in the dirt
as coins change hands
and you leave a rich man
as the world fades around me

you couldn't have followed Judas's example more closely,
except for that one treacherous kiss
though that could have been our first one, after all
how long had you known you were going to betray me, really?

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
165 · May 2018
FOREVER
Hannah Marr May 2018
FOREVER
Endless years
Eons
When does it end?
Will it ever?
I have seen empires rise and fall
I have seen lovers meet and break apart
I have seen the life bleed out of so many
Too many
But never myself
I have lived so long
Under so many names
I no longer know who I am

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
165 · May 2018
KITTEN
Hannah Marr May 2018
KITTEN
Liquid eyes
Pink nose
Four paws
Padded toes
Glossy fur
Long, black tail
Silken purr
Mewing wail

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
165 · Jun 2018
AARON AND TERRY: HELPING
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
AARON AND TERRY: HELPING
"Hey, Aaron,
are you okay?"

                                                         ­                                              "I'm fine.
                                                           ­                                                Why?"

"I've been thinking,
and it occurred to me
that what most
suffering people
don't understand,
is that when they are asked
'Are you okay?'
that is someone trying to help."

                                                         ­                                         "What most
                                                            ­                        un-suffering people
                                                          ­                              don't understand,
                                                     ­                                                     Terry,
                                                        ­                                           is that most
                                                            ­                 suffering people cannot
                                                          ­                    convince themselves to
                                                              ­                                    ask for help
                                                            ­                        or let anyone know.
                                                           ­                    They only know to say
                                                             ­                                          'I'm fine.'
                                                          ­                                                          ...
   ­                                                                 ­                                          It is a
                                                                ­                 terribly private thing,
                                                                ­                                     suffering."

"Un-suffering people
can't understand, really.
What it is like, I mean.
What is needed,
what should be done.
I think that is the problem.
Or one problem.
They don't know how
to help,
or ask if they even can."

                                                          ­                            "That does present
                                                         ­                                              an issue."

"And the suffering
don't talk about it,
and so most un-suffering
don't even know."

                                                         ­                                           "You're not
                                                             ­                                            wrong."

"Aaron, I'm going
out on a limb,
and I'll come out and ask it."

                                                           ­                                                      "..."

"Is there a way I can help you?"

                                                          ­                                                         "...
                                                            ­                                 ...I don't know.
                                                           ­                            I don't know if it's
                                                            ­                                   even possible
                                                        ­                                 to help me now."

"There has to be a way.
Nothing is irredeemable,
not even the most
twisted of souls."

                                                        ­                                                  "I don't
                                                           ­                                  entirely agree."

"You wouldn't.
You are one who
believes he's irredeemable.
I can't believe that, Aaron.
Or what was the point
of saving your life?"

                                                         ­                            "There wasn't one."

"Are you saying that
I risked myself
for nothing?
My efforts
were pointless?
Is that what you're saying,
Aaron?"

                                                ­                                          "Well, no, but—"

"Aaron.
I refuse to believe
that you are beyond healing.
If I believed that...
Let's just say
it wouldn't be pretty
and I'd be nearly as miserable
as you are during your bad days."

                                                         ­                                                        "..."

"Do you understand me?"

                                                           ­                                                "...yes."

"Good.
I'm not giving up on you,
no matter how much you
try and make me.
In return,
you better not give up on me."

                                                           ­                                             "I won't.
                                                          ­                                       I'll try not to
                                                              ­                          give up on myself
                                                          ­                                                  either.
       ­                                                                 ­          There's always hope,
                                                           ­                                                right?"

"There you go.
You're starting to get it."

                                                           ­                                             "Terry..."

"Yes?"

­                                                                 ­                                     "Thanks."

"...
No problem."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
165 · Sep 2020
(just a silly class project)
Hannah Marr Sep 2020
(just a silly class project)
A battle of wits?
Fool, you are sorely lacking.
What a swift demise...

h.f.m.
#haiku
Continue reading...
164 · Jun 2018
YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO LOVE WHAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU HATED
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO LOVE WHAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU HATED
It's interesting to learn to love yourself,
when you hadn't known before that you didn't.

To learn to love the sound of your voice
without knowing you thought it was grating.

To learn to love the color of your eyes
before realizing you thought their grey was dull.

To learn to love your skin, even,
as you come to understand you have always wanted to claw it off.

To learn to love your idiosyncracies
as you discover that they irritated you to no end.

To learn to love yourself in your entirity
even as you learn you had resigned yourself to being unlovable,

to yourself or anyone else.
(Especially anyone else)

It's interesting to learn to love yourself,
when you don't fully comprehend your own self-hate.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
164 · Apr 2018
HEARTSICK / HEARTSEASE
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
HEARTSICK / HEARTSEASE
Old soul
You've heard this all before
All the romantic platitudes that I might sway you with, that I might use to invoke your affection

Young body
You're sick and tired of this
Your physical form defining you and what you can think and what you can be

Immortal mind
You're already here and gone
Forever is long, but time doesn't exist, and you know you can do anything

Bird-like hands
You can't stand this
The inaction causing your fingers to flutter and alight and move on, restless and reckless

Seaside eyes
You can see it all
My heart laid bare and as tempestuous as the ocean before your feet, the waves reaching, reaching

Cosmic smile
You know the effect you have on me
Eye-teeth cutting the strings that tie me to earth, gravity is reversed, and we're among the stars

Phoenix heart
You burned the last time
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, let us rise and begin again.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
161 · Oct 2018
5X5X5
Hannah Marr Oct 2018
5X5X5
I see an angel's eyes
in a little girl's face,
peering out from under bangs
that are far too long.
She blows them away impatiently.

She asks, "Do you believe
in God? Do you know
what He thinks of you?"
Breath catches in my chest;
I  don't understand this fear.

She takes my hand gently
and leads me through snow
that obscures my blurry vision.
Her laugh travels sideways and
slips softly between my ribs.

Somehow I'm holding an apple.
"Eat it," she instructs me.
I take a small bite,
juice dripping from my chin.
"Doesn't life taste so sweet?"

"What do you wish for?"
Stars streak across the sky.
I inhale her jasmine scent,
exhale my chest of fire.
I wish to be free.

h.f.m.
Five words to a line
Five lines to a stanza
Five stanzas to a poem
5X5X5
Continue reading...
160 · Apr 2018
CONSTELLATION
Hannah Marr Apr 2018
CONSTELLATION
Lungs full of stardust
The cosmos in your eyes
Ethereal galaxies under your collar bones
Corporeal nebulae in your sighs

Breathing iron and dust
With bones of unearthly light
Golden, eternal pulse
Guardian of the night

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
158 · May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: SLEEP (DEPRIVATION)
Hannah Marr May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: SLEEP (DEPRIVATION)
"Aaron! Aaron!
Listen to this!"

                                                        ­                              "Terry, it's two am.
                                                             ­                    Why are you awake?"

"I had two energy drinks
and ice cream
after dinner!
I'm too hyper to sleep."

                                                        ­                                 "Did you have to
                                                                ­                              wake me up?"

"I wanted to show
you something."

                                                    ­                                                     "What?"

"I... don't remember."

                                                     ­                                            "Go to sleep.
                                                          ­               Show me in the morning."

"...
okay."

                                         ­                                                  "You don't need
                                                            ­                                       to sound so
                                                              ­                                       depressed
                                                       ­                                                about it."

"I think I'm
too tired to
sleep, tonight."

                                                      ­                                      "Listen to some
                                                            ­        music with your eyes closed.
                                                         ­                                 Count the things
                                                          ­             that made you smile today.
                                                          ­                        Do what you need to
                                                                         but at least let me sleep."

"Okay.
I'll try."

                                                          ­                           "Goodnight, Terry."

"G'night, Aaron."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
154 · May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: CIGARETTES
Hannah Marr May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: CIGARETTES
"You shouldn't smoke.
That stuff'll **** you.
You'll get cancer,
or something."

                                                    ­                                      "Shut up, Terry."

"Aaron, you're hands
are shaking.
At least
let me light it
for you."

                                                          ­                               "...thanks, Terry."

"..."

                                                 ­                                                                "..."

"Are you okay?"

                                                         ­                             "Why do you ask?"

"You haven't needed
a smoke this badly
since that happened."

                                                     ­                                                 "I'm fine."

"Do you really
believe that?"

                                                         ­                                             "If I say it
                                                              ­                                 enough times
                                                           ­                                                   I will
                                                            ­                                      eventually."

"You know
I'm here for you
right?"

                                                    ­                         "...yeah. Thanks, Terry."

"Don't mention it.
It's not a problem
when it's you."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
153 · May 2018
MAJESTIC WINTER
Hannah Marr May 2018
MAJESTIC WINTER
Wind and snow
Perfection
Acceptance of the dark, shaking wound
Resurfacing
Oh, Champion, sleep
Survive the tender ministrations of death
Disarming as the winter peace might be
Do not act impulsively
Or the river of souls will claim you
Six feet underground

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
152 · May 2018
DOES POETRY SCARE YOU?
Hannah Marr May 2018
DOES POETRY SCARE YOU?
Do people's raw emotions make you sweat?
Does what someone truly feels set you on edge?
Look into the void in a poet's eyes and tell me you are unafraid.

Fight or flight, you know you're gonna fly,
because how can you possibly hope to fight with soul?
Bare your own? That's laughable.
You'd never let yourself become that vulnerable.

Poets are anarchists above all,
according to Sir Herbert Edward Read.
I am of a mind to agree with him.

Can't take the brutal honesty of the depressed?
Can't understand what someone is thinking when they take a razor to their own skin?
Can't help but fidget when someone tells you about how they were ***** at the tender age of thirteen?
Can't take stories about mental illness, abuse, addiction, identity, abandonment, hate, rage, rebellion, brokenness?

Who knew words could instill such animalistic terror?
I'm calling you out. Face the music, and you might just survive.

Do you feel the ice crawling under your skin, the shivers down your spin? That, my friend, is called Truth.
You are one step closer to understanding.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
152 · May 2018
FRAYED
Hannah Marr May 2018
FRAYED
i feel
s t r e t c h e d
thin,
a thread
u n r a v e l e d
slowly.

i cannot
b r e a t h e
here.

s a v e  m e
please.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
152 · Jul 2018
NAMES AND BOXES
Hannah Marr Jul 2018
NAMES AND BOXES
'who are you?'
no one
i have no name
a label for strangers
deriving their preconceptions

to name is to define
is to put in a little package
and wrap up tight
to refuse change
remain the same

words are names
aren't they?
for concepts, ideas
for the perceived, the perceiving
hypocritical of me to use them

even absence has a name
specifying, narrowing, splicing
'silence' and 'abandonment'
'hunger' and 'fear'
if this is the case...

maybe i do have a name after all

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
150 · May 2018
AGELESS
Hannah Marr May 2018
AGELESS
i.
you are older than the stones beneath your calloused feet, but somehow you feel young, still childlike in your naivety despite the fact that the world has conspired to throw you to the rocks below. the waves crash over your broken form, but you are still gazing up at the diving birds.

ii.
give this beach a washed up body, these waves a soul to caress. give these fish some bones to nibble, these seagulls some remains to harass. broken and battered, bloated and blue, they'd find you on the stones with the surf soaking your skin. a gift to the sea and whatever deity of death that would come to claim the spirit left behind.

iii.
alas, if only oblivion were such an easy acquisition. you crawl from the seafoam, reborn anew in your silver-skinned glory. they are distraught by your survival, but they should've known that you will not die until your time. you cannot. there are still things you must do before you are granted your end.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
149 · Jun 2018
BUILT
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
BUILT
I'm not broken,
I was built
this way. You
see these shattered
looking pieces? They
were never one
whole. They don't
fit together, they
contradict one another.
Call me a
fallen angel, but
I never fell.
I was this
twisted thing from
the start. Lonely
and draining and
intense and demanding
and there is
no fixing me
because I did
not break in
the first place.
My choices brought
me here, I
became this of
my own free
will. If there's
anything wrong with
me I only
have myself to
blame. I stacked
these faults like
the bricks they
are, building this
trash personality, stitched
together from fictional
scraps left over
from fantasy worlds
that I withdraw
into to escape
these inconsequential issues
that occupy my
weak-willed mind.
Don't pity me
or offer me
compassion because­ that
will only feed
this complex I've
been cultivating in
the da­rk hours
of the night.
I'm not broken,
I was built
this way. You
see?

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
148 · May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: 5AM KITCHEN
Hannah Marr May 2018
AARON AND TERRY: 5AM KITCHEN

                                                               ­                                            "Terry,
                                                                ­                     what are you doing
                                                           ­                               on the counter?"

"Eating cereal.
Obviously."

                                            ­                     "You don't even have any milk
                                                            ­                                    in your bowl.
                                                           ­                                       And it's five
                                                            ­                                in the morning,
                                                        ­                why are you even awake?"

"I could ask you
the same question."

                                                     ­                                            "I have a job,
                                                            ­                                       remember?
                ­                                                       That's why you have a roof
                                                            ­                               over your head.
                                                           ­                   Because I pay the rent."

"Would you like
some coffee?
I brewed it
a few hours ago
so it might be
a bit cold."

                                                         ­                          "How long have you
                                                             ­                                  been awake?"

"Since midnight."

                                                     ­                                 "What woke you?"

"...the dream."

                                                        ­                                                       "Oh.
                                                            ­                                 Sorry I asked."

"It's no biggie.
It's only a dream.
It can't hurt me.
So would you like that coffee?"

                                                       ­                                         "Yes, please."

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
145 · May 2018
I TAKE
Hannah Marr May 2018
I TAKE
I take
my tongue
between
my teeth
and bite down
hard
and taste
the blood
and hope
that I
have killed
my voice.

I take
a rock
from the
creek
behind
my house
and I
raise it
in my
left hand
above
my right
and bring it
crashing
down
to shatter
bone
and hope
I have stilled
the urge
to grip
a pen
or scrape
letters into
the dust.

I take
these words
and let
them fill
my mind
and pray
that they
drown
out
these
howling
voices
that say
that I
am killing
myself
by removing
my ability
to speak.

I take
my head
between
my hands
—one crippled,
one whole—
with dark
blood
trickling
from my
mouth
and

I
take

a
heaving,

sobbing

breath

and

then

I

s
c
r
e
a
m

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
144 · Jun 2018
CARING
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
CARING
why is caring
so
hard?

especially when i am so
empathetic

i feel others' emotions
their hurt and fear and love
as if they were my own

so why can i not
bring myself to
any sort of
motivation?

it is easier by far
to let everything
sort itself out
it doesn't need
any help from me

why don't i
care?

how can such empathy
coexist with this utter
apathy?

and i know
this should bother me
but hey
guess what?
i kinda don't care

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
143 · Jun 2018
IRRATIONAL
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
IRRATIONAL
I'm reading this book,
"Last Night I Sang To The Monster"
And it hit me. Hard.
Here were the words I couldn't find.
This kid was feeling exactly the way I do.
But that's ridiculous,
since he has a reason for it,
a story behind it.
Me? I'm just miserable
for no reason at all.
It's not rational, this unexplained pain.
I don't even know where it hurts,
just that it does.
The kid in the story, Zach,
he loved people so **** much
but he was afraid of feeling like that
because he kept getting hurt:
by the people he loved,
or the people he loved got hurt
and not all of them got a chance to heal.
He loved broken people,
and people who broke,
and he was both of those
and it was tearing him apart.
And it feels like me,
but it can't be, can it?
His childhood was ******* up,
but mine wasn't, mine was perfect.
His family was ******* up,
but mine isn't, mine's fantastic.
So why do I feel like this?
And too afraid to share it.
I tried, once.
It didn't work out so well.
And of course I can write it here,
because who on here will confront me with it?
Who on here can and make me answer for it?
I am aware my emotions, my pain, are completely irrational.
But I can't convince myself that they're not real.

h.f.m.
Continue reading...
142 · Jun 2018
AH, I SEE
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
AH, I SEE
ah, i see i am spiteful
so frightful
and your pain is delightful
flinching at my every word
it sure is insightful

ah, i see my words are distressing
keep guessing
view them as a blessing!
if you treasure my every word
you'll find this less depressing

ah, i see you think me a *******
some dastard
but if you search my every word
you'll see you have been mastered

ah, i see it in your eyes
you wise?
and how are these lies?
hanging off my every word
now you are my prize

h.f.m.
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140 · Jun 2018
I AM AWARE THAT I AM AFRIAD
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
I AM AWARE THAT I AM AFRIAD
So for the first time
I think I might be consciously aware
of my fear.

Not the feeling of fear, exactly,
but what it is (exactly) that I fear.
I think I know, in a vague sort of way
that I am afraid of endings.

I find myself avoiding my study notes for end of year finals,
not because I think I'll do badly,
(I am confident in A's and B's)
but because it signals a point of no return.

And I'm not afraid of all endings, I don't think.
Leastwise, I'm not afraid of dying.
(Death is the ultimate end, right?)

I just don't want this year to end.
I don't want to graduate,
but I don't want to drop out.
I want to stay in school and keep learning,
continuously,
my future fast approaching and never arriving.

I know I'll fail to keep in touch with friends when summer starts,
so I'll have to start from scratch like I do every year,
and I hate it. I hate it so much, but it never changes.

I know I'll slip into a drowsy, half-awake state day after school end
and this terrifies me,
because I don't know if I'll come back after.
It'd be like being trapped in limbo.

I want to be successful.
I want to grow up, maybe start a family.
At some point I want to live my future,
but can I live in this moment for now?
Can't I move on when I'm ready?

Maybe my real fear is that I'll never be ready.

h.f.m.
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140 · May 2018
BLESS THE DAMNED
Hannah Marr May 2018
BLESS THE ******
Bless all those who
never had the bare minimum
since the day they were born,
fighting for every scrap of life
and still sharing the small surplus.

Bless all those who
were born into a minority
to be scorned and ridiculed,
only told it was because of color, gender, whatever
and that those were reasons to be spited.

Bless all those who
society had ******
just for existing,
those who's lives are a battleground
and who can still lend a helping hand.

h.f.m.
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