Marion Nov 13

Crushed flowers are beautiful,
dried, pressed
not useful but certainly nice to look at
My sister affectionately called me a 'delicate little flower' one of the many times you made me break down, crushed from false accusation
until i eventually dried up
pressed myself until the pain no longer hurt.
I wondered why i had become such a fragile thing
shouldn't heartbreak build you up, a learning experience rather than reducing you to a few petals and a stem.
i feel more like a tree
green and great during the warm summer months
unaware of the freezing winter winds that will blow away all my protective leaves. barren. cold.
i hope someday i will become evergreen
beautiful, tall, luscious and full- pine or cedar or spruce
staying fragrant all year round

but for now i remain a daisy
nothing special
dried, pressed and crushed between these pages, within these words.

wrote this after my biology exam today
  Nov 12 Marion
Stormy

I’m sorry I gave up on you
I’m sorry that I needed to
I’m sorry that I left your side
I’m sorry that you always lied

I never should have trusted you
You always seemed so good, so true
I shouldn’t have believed your lies
I should have seen through your disguise

Gradually, you took my heart
Turned my mind to abstract art
Told me how you loved me so
Then stood up to pack and go

Three words I never should have said
That let you straight into my head
I said I love you
I meant I love you
You knew I loved you

Three more words are on my lips
Words I know will never fix
Anything you put me through
Even if you miss me too

I miss you
Or maybe I don’t miss you
I just miss the person I thought you were

Now I don’t know who to trust
‘Cause all we were has turned to dust

  Nov 12 Marion
olb

I remember everything
Even the things I don't want to remember
They come rushing back
and punch me in the face
It paralizes me mometarily
and makes me think
No wonder
it makes me wonder why
and how
and even what-if
I kept your memories in a box
in my closet
You threw mine away
with no care in the world
I wanted them back
and now they are thrown away like trash
Maybe you don't think of me
because you threw away my memories
So maybe when I rid of yours
those insulting memories will go away as well

Marion Oct 20

i stand, rotting
a small wooden structure in a large city
barren and empty
one window, a single pane of glass

surrounded by skyscrapers
tall and terrifying
yet they too,
they too are rotting
windows smashed,
cavernous corridors tainted by crude slogans,
abused.

my small frame is fragile,
a foundation that is questionable,
my walls are depending on these skyscrapers
willing them to stay tall and terrifying
yet they are crumbling at the edges,
the debris beginning to become almost too heavy on my roof.

an ode to my friends and the people surrounding me. everyone is not always as they seem
Marion Oct 18

hopelessness
a poison infecting my system
rendering me paralysed
the world around me
mirroring the darkness of my mind
i look forward to nothing
all i see ahead of me
is an opaque abyss
and i fall
uncaring
unmoving.

i'm trying
i promise
i'm sorry
Marion Oct 10

addiction is not so taboo as it seems
it is rampant and spreading
seeping under the floorboards, dampening the wallpaper
blind to the pain your not eating does to your body
blind to the effect your constant purging has on your best friend
blind to your mother's secret tears as she sees the fresh scars you promised were gone
blind to the fact that he does not love you
but to all you are unwilling to see
because you are unwilling to accept.

addiction is everywhere, not just in drugs and alcohol
Marion Oct 10

he drinks into oblivion
stumbles home drunk
hate slipping off his tongue like the alcohol that so easily flowed past it before
insults crashing into the ears that are so used to it, numb to it
his needle sharp words tearing into the scarred flesh of his beloveds' minds
pushing and pushing until the point of no return
gone

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