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Alyssa De Marzo Apr 2019
Momma was born a hip hop head
She'd whisper beats and rhymes in my ear right before bed
We played dress up every day
she'd do my hair up real nice
when daddy had the good dough
mamma partied dripping in ice.
and even when the jackets were too heavy
and my braided head too tight
as long as I made mamma look good,
I was doin' alright.
How can I blame her
I only know pieces to her story
there were whole other lives
a long time before me
and to this, I owe her credit
not every day was a dog day
even when I didn't know what to say
I mean she gave me my words when I was four
it made life a little easier when raising the children she bore
And for as long as I could remember
or at least since the 24th of September
She spited dad
promised me she'd always give me all that she had
Wasn't long until she broke it
2 years since we've spoken
but we manage
Momma checked out
left me and my siblings behind
left me alone to make sense of the world with half of her mind
And so here I am now
ripped from my bed
An old beat drew me to write about the love that's dead
12:39 am
Good night momma. I miss you. Lord knows i don't want to but i do ~Your little girl Lyssa
  May 2018 Alyssa De Marzo
your eyes,
waxy and chromatic
seeped through my clothes and
soaked my skin,
bent my bones and
dyed my concrete spine
blue magenta.

forgive me, forgive me
my revolving-door mouth,
my pendulum heart,
my clammy hands.

my religion is jazz but
i swear to God,
I'm Roman Catholic.

and so I brought you some tulips,

cause I can't lose you
to New York.
baby give me a chance
Alyssa De Marzo May 2018
I have gotten older.
At this point in time, I am where my mother was. I am caught between wanting to love someone and wanting to disappear from the face of the earth, between buying groceries or a few grams of creative fuel. Music is a necessity and sleep is no more than a luxury. There are nights where I wake up just to stare into the clocks eyes and although I tell myself to slip back into my dreams I cannot stop my right arm from reaching for a pen. By the end of the week, my recycling bin overflows with half-written letters and they all start the same but different
Dear mom, I hate you and
Dear mom, I miss you. I am just
Dear mom, I hope your next boyfriend has 16 ****** kids so that you are forced to remember the four biggest blessing you left behind
but there is one letter that I keep on my desk, inside an envelope with your address on it, sealed so that even if my fingers itch to revise and edit all the confusion I somehow found the strength to heave out onto paper; I won't.
it reads,
Dear mom,
I want to tell you I love you. I don't. I know I don't. But I do. I always will, that's just how life is. Life always will be. It's different for everyone. However, for us, life will always be arduous. At the end of the day, you and I don't make it any easier. I fight to feed, bathe, and protect the three younger miracles you brought into this world when you, you don't even bother to send a card on their birthdays. Your life always meant more to you. The motivation I have, the childhood I didn't keep me up at night. You've both robbed and driven me. I don't know whether to say ******* or thank you.
- your Firstborn
Alyssa De Marzo Apr 2018
I do not fear the monsters under my bed
or in my closet
Because there are more heinous beings
on the streets and in our office buildings
whom which we greet everyday with a smile

I do not fear heights or tall places
because the drop is too low
and the fall too long
whereas the most painful fall
is diving head first into love
praying someone will be waiting
on the other end of the cliff

I do not fear death
He is always ready for us
he will greet you with a smile
and sweep you off your feet
living in a depressed, narcissistic, xenophobic
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious world
I do not fear dying
i fear LIVING
because when death does come
there will be nothing else
not at all
my heart has been pressing snooze too often these days
Alyssa De Marzo Apr 2018
To all the people I could never love
I wanna say it wasn't me nor you
the trial and error sent from above
forgive my words regrettably untrue

To all the hearts I never accepted
I cannot forget the minds I have changed
To all the souls I never defended
Forgive me people who´ve become estranged

For each of the tears I have caused to shed
I have come to replenish our due peace
I know I´ve left you stranded in your head
let the raging hurt in your heart decease

Remember it was you who taught me so
There´s a forgiving grace in letting go
Alyssa De Marzo Apr 2018
I want to love you like the 90´s,
back when making a playlist
meant dubbing you a mixtape
I want love you like cassette,
the kind of love that even when it gets tangled
we just have to stick a pencil into the spool
and reel it back to normal
I want to love you like portable Sony CD players,
the kind of love that even when it gets scratched
we just have to blow wipe it on our sleeves
because, love,
love just needs a little touch to make it move
love me like the 90´s
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