Marcella: Favorites

Apr 2015 Marcella

Did you ?

Apr 2015 Marcella

Carolin

Did you see the war zone
in her head. The dark clouds
coming crashing in. How her
sun bled every afternoon
with different shades of red.
Did you see scars on her hips
and hands ? The lines by razor
blades on her delicate skin ?
Did you see how she walked
with pride out of it all leaving
the chaos she had in her head
behind ? How she slipped her
boots on and walked out of it
holding the red rose with it's
thorns ? She found someone
to push her dark clouds away.
Someone to share her life with
and play. Someone with a shining
light to keep her safe. To guide
her night and day. Someone who
told her it's going to be ok* ~

Apr 2015 Marcella

Wild Girl

Apr 2015 Marcella

Maya Wilson-Fernandez

Wild Girl

Fearless.
Untamed.

Her hair
falls not in flawless curls
around a porcelain face.

No.
It flows into the hungry wind
a lion's mane.

Her laugh
tinkles not like
so many silver bells.

No.
It crashes and bubbles
an ocean tide.

Her desires
hide not under the glass
of an innocent exterior.

No.
They smolder on the surface of her skin.
Volatile fires
by turn gentle flames
or blazing infernoes.

To be a wild girl
is both a gift and a curse.
To feel everything
from love to hate
at the base of your throat and the
heart of your soul.
To be both feared and wanted
by strong and weak men.
To live one's life
searching for one
whose heart is strong enough
to run alongside someone so free.

#me #strong #fearless #reckless #wild #soulful

Apr 2015 Marcella

Bed time story

Apr 2015 Marcella

Madeysin

Bed time story

No matter how many, new blankets, pillows and sheets. You pile high.
Like the princess & the pea, I'll never sleep. Shoved down in the bottom layer, under the comfiest cover. Is all the thoughts, that come out at night. Someone knock me out please

Haha

Apr 2015 Marcella

Untitled

Apr 2015 Marcella

Jared Eli

Untitled

I say “Which wrist?”
Her hands twitch as she reaches down
Pulls up the sleeve with such strength to reveal
The places she tried to carve herself anew
Like a bowsprit to guide her ship
I say “It’s like Van Gogh
Because Michelangelo didn’t deal
With those hues of red
And I know you feel like a Picasso painting
But you are a never-before-displayed original
Valued priceless because the world knows
You are incomparable”

Apr 2015 Marcella

Untitled

Apr 2015 Marcella

whispering wind

Untitled

once you fall you can never seem to get up again
there is a feeling in between sitting and standing
this invisible barrier between the past and future
the burden of the present weighing us down

Apr 2015 Marcella

Toxic

Apr 2015 Marcella

Maya Wilson-Fernandez

Toxic

Fire's beauty cannot be contested
even though it can't help but
burn when you come closer.
(He's fire)

The power of a black tiger
is entrancing
until it devours you, body and soul.
(He's an animal)

The high ******* brings is
addictive even when you
fall into a hell of your own making
(He's a drug)

He's fascinating
dangerous
intoxicating.

Stories about him
shock yet his
rampage on the vulnerable hearts
of this world
will never cease.

(He's toxic.)

I wrote this two years ago when a boy broke my heart for the first time. He was the kind of person that was hard to get over, and the heartbreak was what made me start writing poetry in an effort to get the frustration out.

#heartbreak #boy #bad #toxic #player

Apr 2015 Marcella

She Wolf

Apr 2015 Marcella

DaRk IcE

She Wolf

She howls at the moon in the midst of the night. Seeking lost souls trapped and screaming in fright. Her cries play melodies of melancholy trials lost, her spirit stolen callously at a grave cost. Roaming the dense fog on hallows eve Watching the dead rise, I'm sure many were known to be wise. As she so gallantly skips past ancient tree's they whipser vintage stories about Victorian times and all its glories. Tree leaves construct reenactments of ****** wars riddled of death and destruction among differences of the people, only wishing to gather and come together at the church steeple. Her howls are searched among the hollow lands above makeshift graves of innocent people seen as second rate, not suprising of their final fate. Beings born with no guidence for a undeniable ratchet societies views, she howls as she hears the news. Her ravaged heart however battered still beats, I am She Wolf.

— The End —