marissa-1 - Hello Poetry

The look in your eyes when you look at me fills me with ice and mice that feed on my inside out heart of stone that was carved and and broke to fit a mold All Girls Like Me colored hair, only smoke to breathe have death in site cuts ready to bleed but if I could stare like this for even one minute more my black inside could break to the floor the black will fade to a light shade of grey then lighter and brighter the longer I stay you talk about pasts and how things have changed how I might have been hurt but I’m not so deranged I say “I’m not as great as I may seem. my insides are dark. black the only color scheme” “that's not true” you say holding my face. “you’re more than that. there's no black in your space” I disagree up and down I can’t tell you how often I drown in my heart and mind I’ve been dead for years how long it's been since I’ve shed any tears but since this heart of mine met yours I see all sorts of open doors. I hope one day to find what color you see for my broken mind All Girls Like Me are meant to run but what should I do now that that's no fun?

0

Dec 5, 2015

Dec 5, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC

Girls Like Me

The look in your eyes when you look at me fills me with ice and mice that feed on my inside out heart of stone that was carved and and broke to fit a mold All Girls Like Me colored hair, only smoke to breathe have death in site cuts ready to bleed but if I could stare like this for even one minute more my black inside could break to the floor the black will fade to a light shade of grey then lighter and brighter the longer I stay you talk about pasts and how things have changed how I might have been hurt but I’m not so deranged I say “I’m not as great as I may seem. my insides are dark. black the only color scheme” “that's not true” you say holding my face. “you’re more than that. there's no black in your space” I disagree up and down I can’t tell you how often I drown in my heart and mind I’ve been dead for years how long it's been since I’ve shed any tears but since this heart of mine met yours I see all sorts of open doors. I hope one day to find what color you see for my broken mind All Girls Like Me are meant to run but what should I do now that that's no fun?

43

Tonight, like every night, is the night I will lay awake in bed till 7 am while my brain makes conclusions and draws assumptions out of every little thing I've ever done in my life. Then the fears creep in. The ones about whether I will ever be a successful member of the human race or if I'll just crash and burn like my sister before me. whether I will look at myself the same way she did when she thought of her two beautiful children as she stuck that last needle into her veins. and I fear that love isn't real. I fear its not real for me. The last person who told me they loved me probably meant it but i didn't say it back. I didn't say it back. He looked at me as though he understood but I held his soul in my fingertips. He looks at me now and I wonder if he feels empty just as empty as I do now. I fear if I say those words things will fall apart. I fear I will not feel love enough to follow in my sisters footsteps. I fear I will be close enough to him that our souls will cross I fear we could be happy and I fear once it happens it'll all fall apart like all the others before him. I fear the universe crashing and burning around me as my thoughts run around like rabid dogs biting every inch of my insides that they can. I breathe in the smoke of sad tobacco and feel nothing. I light another and feel nothing I feel nothing so often Maybe I can't recognize when I actually feel something. I've felt like nothing for so long how can I love like before. Sometimes. I wish my sister and I were closer. not just half. being related and being family have no correlation yet why do I worry I will be influenced by her. Tonight. This morning. I start my day. I continue as though the ghosts watching me tear through my skin leaving gaping sores and cuts that I can feel but my face stays calm. I keep walking. If he says he loves me tomorrow. like I think he will I won't say it back. but I'll feel something. so maybe it’s worth it. Maybe I'll recognize how to feel something again.

0

Apr 19, 2015

Apr 19, 2015 at 2:18 AM UTC

Fear

Tonight, like every night, is the night I will lay awake in bed till 7 am while my brain makes conclusions and draws assumptions out of every little thing I've ever done in my life. Then the fears creep in. The ones about whether I will ever be a successful member of the human race or if I'll just crash and burn like my sister before me. whether I will look at myself the same way she did when she thought of her two beautiful children as she stuck that last needle into her veins. and I fear that love isn't real. I fear its not real for me. The last person who told me they loved me probably meant it but i didn't say it back. I didn't say it back. He looked at me as though he understood but I held his soul in my fingertips. He looks at me now and I wonder if he feels empty just as empty as I do now. I fear if I say those words things will fall apart. I fear I will not feel love enough to follow in my sisters footsteps. I fear I will be close enough to him that our souls will cross I fear we could be happy and I fear once it happens it'll all fall apart like all the others before him. I fear the universe crashing and burning around me as my thoughts run around like rabid dogs biting every inch of my insides that they can. I breathe in the smoke of sad tobacco and feel nothing. I light another and feel nothing I feel nothing so often Maybe I can't recognize when I actually feel something. I've felt like nothing for so long how can I love like before. Sometimes. I wish my sister and I were closer. not just half. being related and being family have no correlation yet why do I worry I will be influenced by her. Tonight. This morning. I start my day. I continue as though the ghosts watching me tear through my skin leaving gaping sores and cuts that I can feel but my face stays calm. I keep walking. If he says he loves me tomorrow. like I think he will I won't say it back. but I'll feel something. so maybe it’s worth it. Maybe I'll recognize how to feel something again.

80

Step right up Step right up Step right up We have a fabulous show awaiting you! Full of secrets only women can show Full of marvelous creatures hidden inside the human psyche. What are these you may ask. Step inside and for the low low low price of your first born daughter all secrets will be open to you. dietary tips of the highest quality how to keep a girlfriend for longer than 3 weeks and even whether a female ****** is actually a myth! because lets face it, thats all women are good for. ****** object to meet the desires of any man who asks jokes about belonging in the kitchen? here is the place to tell them for the low low low price of your first born daughter we will frolic in the land of misogyny with you and gallivant in your precious simplistic brain stem that begs the question “with all these women, will *** be included in this package deal” of course the answer is yes! here thats all women are good for anyways! why not pry precious gifts from our fingers and violate the precious sanctity that you, yourself yes you too! hold so dear. why not allow the basic *********** of the privacy bubble to those weaker than you. its okay. we don’t even feel offended when you cat call us anymore. we take it as compliments and persistance. and say to ourselves in confidence that our bodies are worth looking at for the day. We boast about it to friends and think that someone finally sees us as being good enough. so step right up step right up step right up. for the low low low low price of your first born daughter we are yours to take advantage of. Welcome. We were expecting you anyways.

0

Apr 14, 2015

Apr 14, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC

Step Right Up

Step right up Step right up Step right up We have a fabulous show awaiting you! Full of secrets only women can show Full of marvelous creatures hidden inside the human psyche. What are these you may ask. Step inside and for the low low low price of your first born daughter all secrets will be open to you. dietary tips of the highest quality how to keep a girlfriend for longer than 3 weeks and even whether a female ****** is actually a myth! because lets face it, thats all women are good for. ****** object to meet the desires of any man who asks jokes about belonging in the kitchen? here is the place to tell them for the low low low price of your first born daughter we will frolic in the land of misogyny with you and gallivant in your precious simplistic brain stem that begs the question “with all these women, will *** be included in this package deal” of course the answer is yes! here thats all women are good for anyways! why not pry precious gifts from our fingers and violate the precious sanctity that you, yourself yes you too! hold so dear. why not allow the basic *********** of the privacy bubble to those weaker than you. its okay. we don’t even feel offended when you cat call us anymore. we take it as compliments and persistance. and say to ourselves in confidence that our bodies are worth looking at for the day. We boast about it to friends and think that someone finally sees us as being good enough. so step right up step right up step right up. for the low low low low price of your first born daughter we are yours to take advantage of. Welcome. We were expecting you anyways.

68

When I was young, my mother held me close and I wouldn’t leave her side and when I was young, my father would take sips of poison and call out to us. When I was young, my friends would come and go like seasons and lovers would come and go even more frequently. When I was young, my hips were too big and so was my chest and so was my stomach. When I was young, I was called promiscuous. A worse variation with the same meaning but tell me how an 8 year old child can be promiscuous. When I was young, my only connections to home were broken by drugs and anger. All that is left there are the disheveled remnants of family who cared more about drugs than salvation anyway. But whats the difference. When I was young, I was left alone and shouted at for it. When I was young, I was told thoughts of suicide were unhealthy but then why had I always had them. When I was young, I wished for the day when I wouldn’t have to wake up anymore I haven’t been young since I was 8. Now I am older. I can say all this without the slightest breath of sadness on my lips. Sadness still runs through me like rivers of cold melancholy and I dream of a day when I can say all this with the taste of an emotion in my mouth because that means I can open up again. It means love exists.

0

Apr 14, 2015

Apr 14, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC

When I Was Young

When I was young, my mother held me close and I wouldn’t leave her side and when I was young, my father would take sips of poison and call out to us. When I was young, my friends would come and go like seasons and lovers would come and go even more frequently. When I was young, my hips were too big and so was my chest and so was my stomach. When I was young, I was called promiscuous. A worse variation with the same meaning but tell me how an 8 year old child can be promiscuous. When I was young, my only connections to home were broken by drugs and anger. All that is left there are the disheveled remnants of family who cared more about drugs than salvation anyway. But whats the difference. When I was young, I was left alone and shouted at for it. When I was young, I was told thoughts of suicide were unhealthy but then why had I always had them. When I was young, I wished for the day when I wouldn’t have to wake up anymore I haven’t been young since I was 8. Now I am older. I can say all this without the slightest breath of sadness on my lips. Sadness still runs through me like rivers of cold melancholy and I dream of a day when I can say all this with the taste of an emotion in my mouth because that means I can open up again. It means love exists.

55

Lost at sea Alone in my fears Everyone has gone to bed early but I stay up for days on end Tortured by day. Solace is in the silence That night brings But it's dangerous or a Woman to walk alone at night. Funny how my genitals are an excuse For everything I try to achieve Cotton candy bubblegum Doesn't fill my veins. I am also not a closeted ********** Just because my face is pierced And my hair is bright. I am not an object. I am not a thing to be taken. A thing to poke at with sticks To see if I bleed sweetness. No one cares. No one takes the time to look At my face without noticing My chest first. I bleed the same as you Sir. Please don't touch me Sir. Stop Sir. SIR. Get off my appearance. Care for once. Not about my looks but The flesh and bone You are prodding With sticks. I only have so much Blood to show you.

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Mar 17, 2015

Mar 17, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC

Blood To Show

Lost at sea Alone in my fears Everyone has gone to bed early but I stay up for days on end Tortured by day. Solace is in the silence That night brings But it's dangerous or a Woman to walk alone at night. Funny how my genitals are an excuse For everything I try to achieve Cotton candy bubblegum Doesn't fill my veins. I am also not a closeted ********** Just because my face is pierced And my hair is bright. I am not an object. I am not a thing to be taken. A thing to poke at with sticks To see if I bleed sweetness. No one cares. No one takes the time to look At my face without noticing My chest first. I bleed the same as you Sir. Please don't touch me Sir. Stop Sir. SIR. Get off my appearance. Care for once. Not about my looks but The flesh and bone You are prodding With sticks. I only have so much Blood to show you.

39

My head hurt From the ache of Pain ****** upon me By those before so When you told me my Smile was something People write books about I melted. I'd never met Someone who didn't only Want me for a Short time or **** around with no strings. I've never had someone Look at my scars And call them perfect Because they lay On my skin. MY skin is Perfect to someone. We don't stop talking Till 3 am and you Look at me and ask How I exist outside Of heaven. It's lame. But you mean it. You say you have no Idea what you're doing And you're not wrong But you already know What to say to make my Anxiety lift and dissipate. I know I'm not just An average girl. I'm Weird and look nothing Like everyone else But you love it. When you said I Made other girls look Boring I melted. I melted for the First time in years. I melted.

0

Oct 31, 2014

Oct 31, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC

I Melted

My head hurt From the ache of Pain ****** upon me By those before so When you told me my Smile was something People write books about I melted. I'd never met Someone who didn't only Want me for a Short time or **** around with no strings. I've never had someone Look at my scars And call them perfect Because they lay On my skin. MY skin is Perfect to someone. We don't stop talking Till 3 am and you Look at me and ask How I exist outside Of heaven. It's lame. But you mean it. You say you have no Idea what you're doing And you're not wrong But you already know What to say to make my Anxiety lift and dissipate. I know I'm not just An average girl. I'm Weird and look nothing Like everyone else But you love it. When you said I Made other girls look Boring I melted. I melted for the First time in years. I melted.

44

I once had a boy Who loved me so much he had memorized every freckle I had on my body. He loved me to the point that when our own demons wouldn't let go of our heads he went to a mental facility because he couldn't stand how wrong things were without me. He told me that. I heard it straight from his mouth and that boy is gone now. Moved on and moved away. And even though that was so long ago i can't help but wonder if I will ever be loved like that again. Will someone ever want to spend that much time memorizing every freckle every scar, every inch of skin on my body. My stomach collapses on itself thinking about it because something in me doesn't think it'll happen or that I even deserve it. My stomach acid burns my throat as i up heave my emotions through my chest and wonder if I will ever stop being thrown out in the garbage like a used ****** Everyone says that everyone deserves to be happy and maybe deep down I want to believe it but something aches and whispers bitter tasting words into my head that say no one will ever love you longer than it takes to reach ****** I'm not looking for perfection. I am damaged goods and i know other people are damaged too. I know some peoples heads are like hurricanes and I am aware that no one is perfect and yes, I know that I cannot be perfect but I don't need to be perfect. I don't need someone perfect either. I want to love like that boy once did. I want to memorize someone and be memorized back. To me the sweetest type of love is the kind when you just waste time. But you love every second and you want nothing more than to sit and admire the beautiful thing you have right in front of you.

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Sep 27, 2014

Sep 27, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC

About The Love Of My Life

I once had a boy Who loved me so much he had memorized every freckle I had on my body. He loved me to the point that when our own demons wouldn't let go of our heads he went to a mental facility because he couldn't stand how wrong things were without me. He told me that. I heard it straight from his mouth and that boy is gone now. Moved on and moved away. And even though that was so long ago i can't help but wonder if I will ever be loved like that again. Will someone ever want to spend that much time memorizing every freckle every scar, every inch of skin on my body. My stomach collapses on itself thinking about it because something in me doesn't think it'll happen or that I even deserve it. My stomach acid burns my throat as i up heave my emotions through my chest and wonder if I will ever stop being thrown out in the garbage like a used ****** Everyone says that everyone deserves to be happy and maybe deep down I want to believe it but something aches and whispers bitter tasting words into my head that say no one will ever love you longer than it takes to reach ****** I'm not looking for perfection. I am damaged goods and i know other people are damaged too. I know some peoples heads are like hurricanes and I am aware that no one is perfect and yes, I know that I cannot be perfect but I don't need to be perfect. I don't need someone perfect either. I want to love like that boy once did. I want to memorize someone and be memorized back. To me the sweetest type of love is the kind when you just waste time. But you love every second and you want nothing more than to sit and admire the beautiful thing you have right in front of you.

75

The touch of God Has not blessed me Instead, the touch has Led me astray and troubled My mind to the point of Losing hope. My feelings are in the Recycling bin and God has pressed the button To empty it. God has given me hands that Are all too willing to Hurt myself and those Around me. My destructive hands take Knives to my throat and The brain God gave me Whispers bitter thoughts That make my face pucker From their sour taste. This is the only way I Know how to feel And God has made me Numb. So if God has Made me such a sin Then how can you say That he loves me? How can you say I have something to live for?

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Sep 10, 2014

Sep 10, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC

Blessed

The touch of God Has not blessed me Instead, the touch has Led me astray and troubled My mind to the point of Losing hope. My feelings are in the Recycling bin and God has pressed the button To empty it. God has given me hands that Are all too willing to Hurt myself and those Around me. My destructive hands take Knives to my throat and The brain God gave me Whispers bitter thoughts That make my face pucker From their sour taste. This is the only way I Know how to feel And God has made me Numb. So if God has Made me such a sin Then how can you say That he loves me? How can you say I have something to live for?

30

My soul oozes Out from the sores On my skin I dug for myself and Latches on to the holes In my veins Like poison from venomous Snakes. And I can't stop it from Going straight to my brain And heart. I don't see a point In taking chances on things. I can't ******* see Myself without scars Everywhere I can't ******* see myself without fresh Gashes or bruises And I can't ******* see Myself smiling. I don't eat because The hunger pains Remind me I am still Breathing. The pain like **** Making it harder To be okay and Making it harder For people to look at me Without getting repulsed. I'm like an infection. I can't breathe properly And haven't been able To since... I can't remember how long It's been since I last Breathed clean air Calmly. I can't imagine looking In a mirror and feeling Good enough. So I sit. In the dark and let my soul Ooze out onto my sheets And pray I don't wake up

0

Sep 6, 2014

Sep 6, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC

Can't See

My soul oozes Out from the sores On my skin I dug for myself and Latches on to the holes In my veins Like poison from venomous Snakes. And I can't stop it from Going straight to my brain And heart. I don't see a point In taking chances on things. I can't ******* see Myself without scars Everywhere I can't ******* see myself without fresh Gashes or bruises And I can't ******* see Myself smiling. I don't eat because The hunger pains Remind me I am still Breathing. The pain like **** Making it harder To be okay and Making it harder For people to look at me Without getting repulsed. I'm like an infection. I can't breathe properly And haven't been able To since... I can't remember how long It's been since I last Breathed clean air Calmly. I can't imagine looking In a mirror and feeling Good enough. So I sit. In the dark and let my soul Ooze out onto my sheets And pray I don't wake up

47

The blasphemy That overtakes my Thoughts Was put there by Demons and Kept there by Saints in order To destroy me slowly. Demons upon demons Have entered and left Without a trace Leaving negativity Like tumors on my Brain Inoperable Said the Saints And they left me too Now I have nothing Inside of me Leading me towards The banks of the Cloudy river I have nothing leading Me towards the bottle of Sleeping pills on My dresser I have nothing to stop me I have nothing I have Me

0

Aug 26, 2014

Aug 26, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC

Demons

The blasphemy That overtakes my Thoughts Was put there by Demons and Kept there by Saints in order To destroy me slowly. Demons upon demons Have entered and left Without a trace Leaving negativity Like tumors on my Brain Inoperable Said the Saints And they left me too Now I have nothing Inside of me Leading me towards The banks of the Cloudy river I have nothing leading Me towards the bottle of Sleeping pills on My dresser I have nothing to stop me I have nothing I have Me

30