Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018 · 182
Poor Issues
Michaela Murasky Mar 2018
We all say we want to be apart of something greater but no one actually wants to get off their ***** to see the world for what it truly is.

We all huff and puff about politics but no one can find the courage to do something real.

We all cry for the mentally ill and tell them were still looking for a cure, but why are the rich never sick and the poor never being cured?

We tell our children to follow their dreams
but dream small and aim low
because family money doesn't stretch far these days.

We all say we've had enough of watching the rich get richer
while we stay poor, letting them tell us
there's nothing more they can do.

We all say we want to fix this injustice
but no one has the courage
to get off their *** to see
the world for what it
truly is.
A tribute to what the upper class considers lower class citizens.
Mar 2018 · 166
words
Michaela Murasky Mar 2018
Let's say your words weren't as sharp as broken glass, would they still hurt less if used to stab you in the back?
Mar 2018 · 239
Let's Pretend
Michaela Murasky Mar 2018
I didn't like the way you smiled at me when we met
and I didn't get lost in your eyes.

I didn't like the way you looked at me when you caught me looking at you.
I didn't like the way you were looking at me when I caught you looking at me.

I liked the way their words felt when my friends told me you could never feel the same.

I loved the rush of denial that flowed over me as I tried to work up the courage to talk.

No, my heart didn't shatter when I heard you were getting back with your ex. I love being late.

Yes, I'm fine.
I didn't know how else to deal so I wrote this enjoy.
Jan 2018 · 377
New Smile
Michaela Murasky Jan 2018
You may call me a monster, a beast, demon
Saying that what I did just wasn't right
But it's an improvement, made with a sharpened blade.
You say I'm bad, maybe even a little mad
Truth be told, I don't know anymore.
Can I just say, you've got such a nice smile, like the one I used to have.
You see, it began to fade, so I gave myself a better one
Easily made with a sharpened blade.
I gripped my future tight between my finger and thumb
And quickly began cutting, but I guess I was already numb.
As the blade slashed my flesh, it reappeared, the smile came back!
You may think I'm foolish or maybe a little weird, but now my smile will never fade.
And I'll be here, waiting in the darkness, for you to call my name.
Michaela Murasky
A Jeff the killer tribute... A truly mad man.

— The End —