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Marla Apr 22
****** knife
clutched by a newly minted
ex-wife, out and about
on a sunny afternoon
with a laundry bag
filled with a whole lot of
old news.

she looks over the hedge
and smiles at Sarah
Cue Sarah
every sprinkler on the block
joins Sarah as she smiles back.

our protagonist is a starring role
kind of gal and she’s not too fond
of having men steal her thunder,
so she’s decided that she and her ex should
have an open-relationship.

“how open?” asks Sarah,
but you know, for a friend.

pretty open.
black hole type open.

they say goodbye and Sarah
goes inside to call the cops.

...only the line’s dead.

sarah starts to panic.

she grabs a knife.

she goes over to the fridge
and anxiously begins
to chop away at some onions.
her neighbor walks in.

you didn’t think you could
just walk away did you, Sarah?

Sarah starts to panic as she remembers
all of the times she went next door,
sneaking by the very woman in front of her
like a desperate thief.

knives and onions get thrown in the air

people’s mothers get brought into it

they start talking about their childhoods

sarah mentions that she’s never gotten
her hair braided as a kid

they start braiding each other’s hair

a year later, they get married

Men are trash, the end
Marla Apr 19
Something about the high life always
seems to get under my skin.

Call me naughty,
but whenever I see those
monstrous columns
and slicked marble floors
with gold trim in the crown molding
and ivory steps leading to a forbidden
getaway breakfast club with an island vibe,
thoughts just flood through my mind
and rinse it thoroughly in champagne.
-What gives?
Being pampered is a gorgeous thing
and I wouldn’t give up living a
gorgeous life for anything except love
and world peace, although I see them both as two sides of the same coin.
I may not be the devil,
but I do love the concertos of affection
that spring through my heart
whenever the world around me
is filled with hidden smiles and
careless laughter.
Sights and thoughts like these
would normally tell me that the world
is fine and all is well, at least they used to.

I see opulence nowadays and all I feel
is the pinch of guilt mixed in with a dash
of utter hopelessness.
Most beautiful things are hideous-
EVERYTHING EXPENSIVE IS HIDEOUS!
Human lives mean nothing to a world
that allows people to slave away in
sweat shops for scraps to cater towards a comfortable lifestyle that they will never know.
These people build beautiful ensembles
that they will never see.

****, I lost my train of thought.

Whatever I was saying, it was probably
really important and dear to me,
but I’m a clutz when I type for too long.
Something about seeing my reflection
in the black mirror under me
tends to send my soul through a vortex
of jet flames. It really hurts and easily distracts me, but I’ll try to pay more attention.

Anywho, we should really be stimulating
the world economy by redistributing
different resources such as money and water that way we can all have peaceful, comfortable lives filled with love and affection. If you can’t agree with that, you’re an *******. Type of people we like to call bigots around my block and people like that don’t really tend to stick around.
We do though.
The different, the outspoken, the hidden,
the yet-to-be-chosen.
We’re late bloomers, sure,
but god put us here to kick *** and
you bet yours that we will.

Wait.
This is goodbye.
I’m leaving this letter here
so that you can read it.
Please, read it with an open heart.
It’s really important, ready?
-1
-2
-3

LOVE YOURSELF AND THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE, NO MATTER HOW SCARY YOU THINK IT IS!!!!!!!

bye!
Marla Apr 15
cherry blossoms peeking out
from just beyond the orange grove-
i see the pink petals flutter.
orange blossoms peeking out
from just beyond the cherry grove-
i see ***** of color drop to the ground.
chrysanthemums peeking out
from just beyond the mangroves-
i see wistful memories soaked in pain.
blades of sawgrass peeking out
from just above the still swamp water-
i see what used to be my life.

the colors of a blur well-lived
exist in my mind like a smudge
of pastel brown on an ancient
white canvas; statuesque horrors
resemble the green canopies
and distinct terrors of a stilted
blue sky.

orange and pink floodlights
keep me rooted to the spot.

i’m petrified.
I’d live a better life
if I could appreciate
the fact that I exist,
but that’s kind of hard
considering that I feel
trapped in my past.

Mirrors are worse than the devil.
Marla Apr 12
tender red lips met in the dark
like intersecting paths-

her breath clung on to mine
as my rose quartz heart
shattered into a billion pieces,
vibrating at that golden frequency.

an aura of eternal healing
permeating through our souls-
a starry night to her moon
and two hearts beating
in tandem.
Marla Apr 3
A moment of suspension
issued to my mind
the eyes of a serpent
as they looked into mine.
Silver lined the walls of our
entrapment while mercury
entered through the floor-
the quicksilver rapids
gurgling at our bare heels.

Looking at the glass,
I saw the light of my life
refracted through a parallax
of infinite isolation;
the snake wrapped around my
throat but an accessory to
the crimes I’ve committed.

One by one,
the walls inched closer
as I saw myself venturing further
and further towards the abyss’
edge-
a black horizon forming in my
inner space destined to swallow
existence itself.

As light fled the
warmth of my retinas,
a sharp hiss dug it’s way into

      
my skull, damning me
to an eternity of toxic venom
circulating through my blood.

Tulips and magnolias are all that
          I want on my capstone.
Marla Apr 2
The amphitheater of our stars
lights alive at the spectacle
of what is now our lives.
Comets dance as though entranced
as the years flutter
and beams of light
reach our eyes in waves
of fluctuation;
from trough to crest
and trough again.

Photons carrying dust
from other galaxies;
untouched by this time
but familiar with future
as well as past.

Leaves of grass lay in wait
every night—

People gather to witness
velvet sights—

Visitors come and go—
borne into a world of chaos
disguised as a new form
of orderly conduct—
words convey falsities
and our people continue to
discuss how they can further
disgust themselves.

Outsiders looking in
understand that our calamity
is the work of a supremacy
and not that of harmony—
Extinction is rampant
in the name of currency
when it is money that
further bankrupts our
eternal souls,
not it’s absence.

Peace is the alternative.
Death of all egos is inevitable.
The difference is thus:
surrender the tools of destruction
in the name of growth
lest us all become rubble
that has bent in the undergrowth
of eternity’s wood.
but maybe we’re worth saving.
Marla Mar 23
For thirteen years, I’ve been told that
coffee will be the death of me.
“The caffeine,” they say,
“bullies your heart until it quits on you.”
I’ve heard the same about tobacco,
but that’s all probably true.
Turns out that **** is the golden plant
after all, who knew?
Tea, I should add, is just as much a miracle
worker too. Some ginseng and green tea
relaxes the muscles, frees the mind,
and opens that ever so blessed
third eye.
But back to the things that **** you.
So coffee is up there, so is ***’s
homicidal cousin, ‘baccy.
Then add things like:
-aspirin
-salmonella
-e. coli
-imperialism
-capitalism
-neglectful parents
-no parental guidance
-feeling lost in an infinite void
-never truly waking up from it all
-until everything is a blur

The silence is what kills most though.
Those nights when you just sit there,
hoping that life will pick up,
knowing that it won’t start until
the first move is made.
But you don’t know what to do.
Your past is the limit defined
by the sky that sings in a minor key.
So you sulk and writhe
knowing that it’ll all be alright
so long as you take it one day at a time
until it’s three a.m. some night
in October and tragedy strikes.
Those phone calls are killers too.
The bad news ones that make everyone
hold their breath and go numb.
Too many of those and you’ll become one.

The things that bring life are those
that you live for.
Find yourself someone to love
who knows your speed
and adores the way you speak.
Someone who caresses your hair
and listens to you day by day,
the two of you building a life
together against all odds
because you decided to keep living
and not let the killers grind you down.
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