I hope you don't know my secret.

I'm actually a monster.
In the guise of a boy with long hair.

Beneath my jacket of skin, scales coat my body.
Beneath my mask, I have a face of teeth and tentacles,
A beak made for chomping, and eyes glazed black.
I have webbed wings on my true back, but you can't see that.

My toes are made of bone, and just as dry.
If my instincts kick in, I can run faster than any man,
Hit ten times as hard, and **** in the blink of an eye.
I am no man. I am a monster.

A monster with one goal; protect you.

I want to touch you,
But like ice I remember,
What you did with him.

I can't blame myself,
God knows I'm trying so hard,
Searching for a cause.

Silent echoes scream,
The avalanche of regret,
The weight is not mine.

A shudder in my chest,
Violence in my hands,
Clouds past my eyes,
A pain in my brain.

A Temple ruined,
Once for sacred worship,
Now only for memberance,
And maybe a lost follower.

"God, I know what you did."
Kneeling, he keeps praying,
"I know you're not perfect,
But you're perfect for me."

Hopeless turned hopeful,
A light turned black, then back,
A God losing faith.
A worshiper who didn't.

The desire to question,
The terror denying.
Please not the truth,
I'd rather hear lying.

Lies bring warmth.
Truth brings cold.
This is a winter,
No freezing lulled.

Dull, lost happenings.
Not meant to be breathed,
Spoken beneath this roof,
"Encyclopedia of Regret," they read.

Love isn’t poetic, but we still try, we’re pathetic, so why do we cry,
We all learn by failing, that’s why we fail so hard.


Learning, and seeing, and breathing, it’s what we do,
And every one of us is leading, the pack through and through,

Every man for himself, Every daughter too,
Will keep going on, Will be reborn anew,

And really, I love you.

You lost, Marshall.
Came in second place.
Always replaced.
Variable placement.

You lost, Marshall.
You're on the ground.
Shivering violently, eyes pouring.
Bawling just above the audible level.

Marshall.
Your father told you,
"Lose it to the one you love more than anything,
The one you plan to marry."

So I listened.
But his voice,
It only traveled so far.
Stayed within these walls.

Stop shivering, Marshall.
You. Lost.
It is lost.
And it's your fault.


-- I am to blame.
-- And nothing will be the same.
-- Gold turned to stone.
-- So bright it once shown.

I know your wings are made of ash,
I know what we've become.
And if there was one thing I could take back,
It would be that night of love.

I know we said forever,
I know we wrote it down,
And if I was a little more clever,
Maybe I could drown that out.

But I'm not.
Never will be.
Loves gives you a lot,
Then steals it all and leaves.

Except for the flame that stays burning.
That's how your wings turned black.
Your heart was constantly turning,
And you ended up going back.

The woman had legs.
The room gasped when she entered.
The woman had hair.
Red curls past her shoulder.
Lips, eyes, and skin too.
The woman had assets.

But she was not mine, nor any others.

The sailor was no longer on the sea.
He lived on land.
He did not see the water, nor fish on it.

But at night, drifting into sleep,
His body rocked with the movements of waves.
His skin could feel the cold, salty air of the ocean.
Beneath his eyelids, he could see the stormy skies of the sea.

He was still a sailor.
And he always will be.
The sea was his love.
And always will be.

"I closed my eyes and thought of where I wanted to be. I was in a red wood, colored in autumn. My breath could be seen in the air, and the large horizontal log I was sitting on was cold. There was a woman next to me, both of us were wearing gray hoodies, mine a thin, coarser material, hers warmer and softer. Her hood was up, mine was too. Both of our hairs showed from beneath the hoods. She had a cute nose and a nice smile, and curly brown hair like mine, but, softer and longer.

We were sitting together, clearly interested in each other, but not yet lovers, and not just friends. Facing downhill, we looked into the forest of large trunks and red leaves, or rather, she did while I looked at her silhouette. She let me look, I could tell. Something in her was warm, I wanted to feel it.

A daydream. A forced vision, rather."     -October 27th 2013

You don’t deserve it, but you may get it,
And I will be happy for you.

And if it breaks you again, I’ll smile and laugh;
And if you manage to go the whole way with him,
I’ll laugh even harder, out of joy this time, not sadism.

I will never support you, nor detach you again,
I got my revenge, and you got yours.

I hope you make it, because you gave him so much,
And he gave you some too; But you both took- stole.

I hope you make it because you have ruined countless lives for this,
And if it fails, it will all be for naught.

Make it work, Miss Renner, because if you don’t,
*The dead weight of your victims will multiply.

I write for myself.
It's almost impossible to turn my pain into art when it hurts as terribly as it does.
I am on the very edge of growth, hardly a first step.
Every line I write, I can only think of those who lead me here.
Calling them lovers is like calling my best friend a dog.
Sure, he's a canine, but he is no dog. He is a best friend. To me.
Calling them lovers was once accurate, that's how I felt, but now;
They're more. She- Is more. More than the ones I daydream of.
More than the ones coating the walls of my nightmares.
They are not people. They are not women. They are not loves. They are, unexplainable.
I showed Belle my soul. She showed me hers. And we encompassed each other. One step ahead.
Faith too. But she was always two steps back, never forward. And she didn't really love me.
And the most beautiful name, the one society shortened and butchered to simply "Kit-Kat."
She- was more than a fascination. She was an enabler.  Like being the target guiding an arrow,
She lead me, kick-started my life. She was the first.
Or at least, this declining helix spiral I call my current living condition.

Now this winter has come, an annuality to when it started.
I was laughing and learning her gorgeous name at this time last year.
I remember walking around that empty playground awaiting her responses to my petty flirts.
All was well. But I was too slow, and he was too entrancing, mature, for her.
She chose- and it wasn't me she was looking at- it killed me.
I craved her. I dreamed her. I can still recall one specific, for I have it saved.
Here it is:
     "I had a dream late last summer where I awoke in a white room in a comfy white bed.
      The room had a window for an entire wall and outside I could see snow melting off of black,
      naked trees which spread deep in to a forest of the same colors.
      And that's when I noticed a beautiful white face with dark hair and two blue eyes.
      She was just sitting there in light blue underwear and a white tee-shirt and she looked at me and smiled.
      And I moved over and kissed her and I lay over her just staring into those chilled moons for eyes of hers for the longest time."
     "And that for me, is nirvana."
And that for me, was nirvana.
Her and I. Winter. Purity, love. Cold and warm. White, blue, black and brown. The colors us.
God- I miss that. Those dreams. Those fantasies. Getting nearer to that, her voice and laugh.
-

Accidentally, Something.

The peaches are off their trees,
On the ground and freezing.
Death consumed by life,
To produce again.
It's almost like they live on,
In the little cells of those who eat.

It's almost like that peach is still whole,
Even though it's been eaten and destroyed.
It was once beautiful, and always will be,
And it may even become a tree.
     Again.

If anything survives this winter.

But roses are indeed red.
Usually because my wandering hands doubt the keenness of their thorns.
Similar to how I doubt the sharpness of my love.
Red with passion, then with pain.

Still, beautiful.

My name in question.
My heartbeat not.
My hands unsure.
My body shivering.

Suddenly sobbing tear.
Just like that, pain.
Aching.
Wanting.
Remembrance.

- 11/18/13

It’s always rain that falls.
Never light, never warmth.
Like the world is crying,
Maybe he feels as I do.

These things, are they caused by rain,
Or are they an effect
Of the world’s tears?

More trial and error to see.


It’s always rain.
It’s always cold.

                -Marshall,
                    11-19-13

She said my name.
I stared. I stared and stared.
One tear. Another. Bawling, weeping.

My true love; contact.

            11-17-13

They say if you look at the sun too long,
An image of it is burned in your eyes,
Well, I must have looked at you too long,
‘Cause your image is a 3rd degree burn,
And every second I spend breathing,
I see you.
I feel you.
I ache you.
I bleed you.
I need you.
I gauge you.

But I run.
I run from you.
And I hate myself.
Every length of my being.
I hate myself because,
You are me.


-April 21st 2013

A best-friend before my lover,
A calm before the storm,
Faithful before Faithless,
Painless before painful.

This morning, joyful.
My subconscious, sleeping brain struck a good joke,
One so jolly I awoke.

My dreams are clean again.
No pain. ♥

When you come near, I can’t disappear into my mind,
When it’s so clear, I can see what you were trying to find,

I’m so done.
I guess nobody won.

‘Cause hours like these, come with dead flowers around,
And towers like these, always come showering down,

I can’t pretend.
That wasn’t the end.

Some parts of me, come with holes- for you to see,
Some parts of me, parts of my soul- have holes that bleed,

The good parts of me, can fold and come undone,
You versus me, I guess nobody won.

                ~Marshall Hiatt, 11:25 PM, 11-13-13.

These winter mornings make me miss you,
Your scent, your breath, how you always left me,
The pet names we called each other,
The small pieces of foreign languages we meant,

Your “Lo siento”s, your Elvish “I love you”s (‘Amin mela lle’),
The day of silence, I learned to sign my heart for you,
I learned so much through it all, my brain teemed,
But you only taught me how my pain was true.
    (And how to kiss.)

Winter mornings without warmth.
A compass with no North.

11-12-13

He never fought the dragon,
He never sailed the sea,
Or walked the two hundred mile,
    Like he said he would.
We never spent a lifetime,
We never kissed very long,
We never shared a bed,
    Like he said we would.
I never got the jewelry he bought,
I never kissed his neck,
I never went with the time,
    Like he hoped I would.

And now he’s typing this.
Weeping.

I am speaking to myself, by myself, for myself,
If you can hear me, you are a spy,
     Unwelcomed.
I speak out-loud to refine my thoughts,
To pinpoint what I mean and how I mean it,
    I am still unsure.
I am speaking because I owe debts,
Repaid by a piece of paper, near-weightless,
    For years of love.
I am sorry for myself, for the spy listening,
I am sorry for the events leading to this,
    Debts paid in lifetimes.
I am sorry for a soliloquy unspoken.

            ~Marshall, 11-11-13.

The rhythm of our rain is spastic,
Unexpect the worse,
Feel the drops on your eyes,
Feel their abstract drift down your face,
Palpable as the day we met,

Never see the next drop coming,
But always dry off for more.

Your smile was my everything,
The target for which I aimed,
Most lovely lips I’d ever seen,
Your body as great as name.
The jet black hair, Cloud sapphire eyes,
My treasure hunter seeked those gems,
Palpable love kept for such time,
At that moment I saw them,
I fell apart,
Pure beauty,
Hit me like a dart.
Blue moon on the sea.

The vampire parts her lips,
Not to draw, but to give,
A full laugh, a pleasant strum,
Her voice, my call.

Her being was once my eclipse,
Those days I wish only to relive,
But her heart has grown numb,
Goodbye, my doll.

Winter is a time for love, warmth, and passion.
Spirits flourish with strength, endurance, and desire.
They dash into flurries blindly, grabbing anything that holds.
Many souls grab mimics; branches that break. Lost in the storm again.
But those who can reach further and harder, hold on forever.

Decadence,
Indulgence,
Celebration,
Euphoria.

Desolation,
Emptin­ess,
Forsakenness,
Pain.

Receiving me with welcoming,
A vice versa from my side.
I didn’t think of all the things,
It would be you I’d find;
A blessing for my night.

Because You were everything to me.

Awkward stances in a makeshift kitchen,
Barely big enough for the two of us.

I stared at your eyes. You were real,
We were there. I almost kissed you.


Later, I was rubbing you. You asked,
As per usual. I loved it. You are a strong woman, but,

You were sore.

Had he not been, Had they not been,
I would have kissed you.


Like never before.

Creation.
Destruction.
Union.
Serration.

I'm mad. The Mad Scientist.
Fantasy worlds. Pure science.
I was put here. By myself.
And by myself. I stay.

God won't answer.
No magic is true.
But the world, this earth,
      Her sciences,
      Her knowledge,
*will.

First love.
First lust.

Devotion.
Dedication.

Fate.
Faith.

Screams.
Scars.

Done­.
Dozing.

Are you determined or terminated.

Will you push,
Will you shove.
Go in strong,
Come out soft.
Go in weak,
Come out free.

Will you push,
Will you shove.
Or will you pull,
Like the strongest.
Gods of men,
Men of children.
Blades of bats,
Books from trash.

Will you grow.
Will you go.
Like the strongest
*Gods of men.

Old sighs,
New snow,
Old pains,
New morning.

*sip

I feel like a tool,
A pen, knife or wrench,
Applied for her will,
Twisted to her gain,
But I tell you now,
    wing turned black,
I will not let you use me,
    never again will you torque me,
    never again will I bend to your will.
So you know,
    for a handyman,
    you don’t know a hammer from a nail.

You avert your eyes like I wronged,
But I did not,
    Did I?
I’ve waited so long,
You fell, and I caught,
    I am not the bad guy.
You want to push your chances,
Don’t.
    You will not succeed.
I don’t hold your glances,
You just won’t,
    But still I plead,
    And bleed.
    And give,
    And live,
    For You.

You are my voodoo doll,
I feel pain, when you do ,
Your smile is mine,
Your tears are mine,
Be bound by ties unseen,
The golden thread for me,
Three witches can’t break love,
Emotions far above,
Our will unbreakable,
You, unreplaceable.

They ran for days, he kept holding her hand,
They ran through the constant rain, the downpour,
Both of them soaked, clothes not of much use,
But she kept running with him, he was a promise of joy,
On the second day, she faltered, needed to go home,
     He waited.
     Was patient.

The sixth day of running, the rain never stopped,
She still had her white coat, grayed by the water,
He still had his black hood, frail from soaking,
He was tiring, losing his vision, she wasn’t pulling her weight,
He knew she could, he knew she had,
    So he let go.
    Unexpected.

She turned to him, “How could you do that, stop pulling.”
"I did it because I need to go where I am going,
I am a runner, and we all know that runners run,
So either run with me, or let me free for time,"
Squinting disapprovingly, she found a nice bench,
    And sat.
    “I’ll be here.”
    She looked.
    At him.
    As he ran.

He left her vision, she left his, but as he ran,
He could only think of those angel wings beneath,
Those soft lighting eyes of hers, that perfect smile,
He thought of the body beneath, the heart beneath,
In his endurance-fed fatigue, he dreamed, and only dreamed,
    Of her.

He came back round, his muscles having been warmed,
He came round, looking, searching desperately,
She was nowhere, she was hiding, she was gone.
“Beautiful! Where are you?! I need you, I still want you.”
“I am here. Look at all the friends I made. Aren’t they
    beautiful?”
    “Yes but-”
    “No buts.”
    “I’ve come.”
    She turned her back to him.


*He ran.

Carve me, woman,
Call me a sham.
I donated my care,
I was gentleman.

You built a wall,
You stabbed me,
Ignored, abused, dedicated,
I didn't flee.

I wanted you,
Needed you, Beau,
You were not, but
I was willing to,

      *wait.

I know you’ll find your way,
You’re strong,
Strongest woman I’ve ever met actually,
Gorgeous too,
Intelligent.

You can live without me,
And though months it may take,
I will live without you.

You couldn’t be the one, you know
I worship you,
But you hurt me, ignore me.
You don’t love me, not much at least.

I wanted to spend my life with you, but it looks like things have changed.
I promised you, “I will love you as long as you will let me.”
You will not.
I cannot.

Goodbye, Belle. Your name means beautiful, and if you take nothing more from me,
Know that you can, and will be wanted, loved.

I need closure. I need joy in my life.

They call me faithless,
Little do they know how true that is.

Being without God is one thing, and I am that thing.
Being without Faith is another, I am also this.

But it seems like Faith may be with me, for I am trembling,
And no Gods ever help me.

Feeling alone in the driveway I stand,
I feel like the world just came down,
                                   On me,
Echo my words, tell me my voice,
I'll rip you apart if you lie to me,
                                   Listen,
I can see it like a light at night,
I can see it like white against black,
                                  Go away,
                 Get away,
No way for you to get to me, anymore.

Two lovers,
In a red wood,
Laying,
Together.

He traced the veins on her arm,
Gently.
She stared at him, at the little smirks he made,
His brown eyes.

He had been waiting for this moment,
For years,
Right here,
Alone, calm.

They loved.

Sometimes I think,
It makes me clench my fists,
And push my legs,
And yell silently in my throat.

My hands vibrate,
My veins pop out,
My eyes redden,
And my heartbeat races.

I think of kisses,
Doorsteps,
Park benches,
And grassy hills.

I almost cry,
Sometimes my arm lashes out,
I punch a wall,
And start bleeding.

Sometimes I yell,
I pick an object,
Today it was a banana,
And I just yell.

And sometimes,
I go home,
I fall asleep,
And dream terrible dreams.

I’m not always okay.

“You can’t fight forever, the unfightable,”

I can, I will, I am.
I will fight till my knuckles bleed, my muscles scream, my body pleads, then,

I will keep going.

I will fight the dirt dumped into my grave, the sheets of my deathbed, the glances from all four horsemen.

I will fight.
*Till I have her.

A shackle by some other name,
A memory in mine,
A mind not my own would perceive them the same,
But this good memory is hard to find.

“Plainly, no love,” she told me,
Then I will wait till you can see,
I dream of you, waking and sleeping,
I skip food and company for your needing.

Drifting thoughts manifest in the form of inkm
They are the planks of my boat,
With no words holding me, I sink,
With no glue, nail or latch, I cannot float.

The sea, my metaphor for Beau,
Looking down, deep, far down, shows blue,
And in the darkness of depth, I can’t hold you,

My last words, I pray to undo.
                I’m sorry I hurt you.



Use the stars to so North at sea,
Use the moon, the sun, the broken compass.

                                                   Drift.


-September 26th 2013

Staring at your smile,
Only a photo.

Remember our bodies,
Together.

Our short kisses,
Draining my sad.

Your warmth,
Drying my rain.

Remember that hill,
We sat upon it.

We watched the swimmers,
None drowned.

We watched each other,
I fell in love again.

You asked me,
“Correct my clothes?”

So I did,
I fixed your bathing suit.

And I knew,
Right then right there.

I want to spend my life with you.