I hold love and yet
I repel love
I hold pain and yet
I am numb to pain
I can stand time
And yet...
I cannot seem to stand
Time...
Time is but a commodity
And yet I still feel at loss
Pushing forward against the axis of time
Pain equaling the progression of time
So that my pain never decreases and suffers
At a gradient of forced positivity
Or is it really forced?
To live in a state of both pain and positivity?
Is it really forced?
To fear death and yet also infinity
Is it really forced?
When you can see all that which surrounds you
As if blessings hide and yet are plain to sight

But to live through that all brings about confusion
You continue to move forward without falter and yet
You find yourself in seclusion
Not wanting to be found and yet
Seeking warmth til delusion
Finding comfort in the painful cold
And yet begging for the warmth of a human.

Time is but a commodity,
And yet man cannot compare,
They fall weak to its clutches,
And lose to despair.
Take a hint and do not try to live in seclusion
Because one can only take so much pain.

From his explosions,
Our sun spreads antimatter
Into the cosmos
And orbits around the core
Of the immense Milky Way
To make a low-speed cyclone.

Poem by Marieta Maglas

THE WAY IN WHICH INSECURITY MAKES A HOME OF MY BODY,
LEAVING HER PILES OF SELF-DOUBT AND ANXIETY LYING ON THE FLOOR.
AS I CONTINUE TO STUMBLE AWAY FROM MIRRORS,
TRYING TO FIND A REFLECTION SHE HAS NOT BECOME A PART OF,
SHE REVEALS TO ME,
THAT THE MIRROR DOES NOT HAVE TO BE CRACKED IN ORDER FOR ME TO LOOK BROKEN.
I ASK HER WHY SHE HAS NOT MOVED OUT ALREADY,
AND SHE SAYS IT IS NOT HER FAULT THAT I ALWAYS LEAVE THE DOORS OPEN.
I TELL HER OF HOW I MISPLACED THE KEYS IN THE HANDS OF PEOPLE WHO COULD NOT LOVE ALL THAT I AM.
AND WITHOUT HESITATION,
SHE ASKS ME WHY I HAVE NOT YET CHANGED THE LOCKS.

I was a tragedy
But you thought
I was a comedy