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488 · Jun 2018
Who is in control?
Marie Jun 2018
His scream that pulsated through my ears.

Was enough to make my heart steer clear.

But rest assured I have decided to leave my biggest fears.

To drive my fantasies into a world I hold dear.

I digress.

I haven't felt happy in so many years.

It's such a blessing.

I am happy you made me realize you fool.

You had guided me into an open door of something ultimately cruel.
criticism would be appreciated
421 · Jun 2018
Psychotic love
Marie Jun 2018
How can you leave my world in utter ignorance.

You broke the firewall that linked to our resonance.

Can you Comprehend the depth of my sadness?

Do you understand why I'm sinking into madness?

I digress

I won't carry the weight. No. Not alone.

Even if the whole world turns against  me.

I will...

Oh, good grief!

I will crucify your fate.

Slowly you will be trapped in my hands.

Slowly you will finally come to understand.

Why my world has dissolved into sand.

Slowly
Slowly
Slowly

Can you feel it?

Deep within your trembly bones.

The ugly sensation of what it feels like to be alone.

Thank you for being my partner tonight.

I will enwrap you with kisses that will come to your delight.

Good night.
Please comment your thoughts on the poem. I don't mind criticism at all.
97 · Dec 2020
Incrudility
Marie Dec 2020
Hey there, would you please listen to me?
Why is it that my moral compass not pointing anywhere

when I was 7, I asked mom why is it that the rules we follow justifies the death of another human
she said they did something bad, I agreed
when I was 12, I asked her why is it that ****** was the only option
she said because that's what the rules specified, I agreed
when I was 15, I asked her if what they did was really bad enough
she looked at me with bewilderment and said, 'of course, can't you see it's against our rules?'

I asked her, 'mom what defines bad?'
'oh my dear you are too young to understand'
'but I am 18 now'
'must you be re-educated?'
I thought you loved me
this is love, this is for you
92 · Apr 2022
My Being
Marie Apr 2022
Do specks or traces of memories remain lest I had shaped them differently?

Thoughts retreat into a articles of nothingness

A white sheet with no name and a connection short of no ends.

— The End —