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Mar 2018 · 147
I tried
Maria Mar 2018
I really did,
I tried with all my might,
then I looked at the paper,
and all I saw was mistakes,
no perfection.
It's not good enough,
it never is.
Mar 2018 · 153
Them
Maria Mar 2018
The keys moved up and down. Click clack click clack. The clock moved in it’s indifferent schedule. Tick tock tick tock. The rat scurried across the floor like a mad man. Pitter patter pitter patter. The clock stopped, the keys stopped playing, the rat froze at the silence. Nothing was there, but a single figure. A tall black figure with one golden eye awaiting my presence to step forward. Backing out of the chair making the only noise present, I rose. His arm whipped out yet close to the silence I heard the rubbing of silk from him. His hand outstretched for mine to take, I match my palm to his silence and he matches his silence with my noise, and a shimmering gold light awaits at the end of a tunnel for me in his eyes. He whipped me towards him with his arm, and held me like a doll, as he rushed forward. My hair flew with the wind and tapped his chest and shoulders and patted along his arms like a hug of their own. “Feeghalo, myitol ifigi nyato.” The strange pattern of words sunk out of his mouth and into the ground as my surroundings disappeared and I arrived at a new place. My mouth opened to scream in shock to the watery floor but I sat in silence instead. I looked down to see a endless aquarium of all types of fish beneath my feet in an endless ocean with no resolution. Releasing from his grasp I fell to my knees, and watched him and his reflection in the water vanish out of existence.
Feb 2018 · 133
Perfect
Maria Feb 2018
She built it up,
brick by hand aching brick,
She stepped back to look at her creation,
but she had made it too perfect,
a copy of herself,
and her expectations.
She stepped back not know who the giant brick person was,
her nose was too small,
the mouth was too tiny,
her eyes were too perfect,
her body was too thin,
and she never smiled.
In a brick world where she got all attention,
all eyes,
that stared at her for lustful desires of their own,
and she wanted to be alone,
ugly,
not wanted,
just like the human figure,
the original prototype of her wellbeing,
stood in front of her,
regretting what she had built.

— The End —