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marcos Dec 2015
I'm so tired of this type of pain.
I hope too much.
  Dec 2015 marcos
Alicia
one day
always dries the tongue
always tense
future tense
i’m twenty three
i’ve set out to find myself
at least four times
from here
                                                  you can’t see what’s up there
                                  though its walls are made of windows
                                         i was up there once, and looked down

i asked why misunderstanding perception
and learned most of them looked out for the cityscape the lights sometimes.


s was a dancer
stretches and
taps to silent rhythms
knotted in her throat        in thought
sometimes at night
under lover’s sheets
they could flow from her lips
sweet hyperboles
and desperate understatements
and her shoulders would release
too soon
she was dead asleep
      
                                         t   the perfect audience
he was multilingual
even with small phrases and s thought::
please please think bigger
than you and me

t::
i want
shelves full
(with all of your words)
and we’ll cover the living
      walls
with framed cyprus and stone
it’s ok it’s ok it’s ok
today we are twenty three
i can feel your breath on my face
i am not domestic
every place but home
inspires me
a time someday for us
they’ve flourished
snatched in november like everything
gone
tell me
the glory days
are not
over
flow


is it possible
to be blown by what i thought
could never happen     could never have
never be
and
remorse for decaying dreams
                                                          ­                  a bibliothèque   a bibliothek
                                                      ­           its towers pierce through foliage
                                                         ­                               the center caved in
                                                              ­  only the letters b  i  b  l  o remain
                                                          ­   above the threshold    and some
                                                            ­               pages grip tight to the walls
                                                          ­                  insects inhibit the rest

    

  we stretch softer legs like fossilized rock
and feel shame in the pride once taken
in one day   i will give up everything
dance on tuesday nights      worship the sanctity of table talk     early mornings envisioning the thousands of events this corner no doubt witnessed  trek øyangen and for the first time fall so in love with snow and tomorrow feel that same ecstasy for the aegean ultraviolet a




of course there is not   that would be too **** logical


we fill to the brim spill into the other
the first time::
walking conciliation there were at least 8 others  the nervous ha ha release of the shoulders a timid forte   something castle passageway and cruel majesty if i did..no memory of any other exists submerged in the cascade i could tell
                          what was happening it was your turn finally
                  adventure bestowed
                           when i shouted
                                                    ­      italian for
...i know what you mean


other times
it’s boiling      steam clenching the small throat of the
archways screaming
like the baby in the room
hardly air still
dare not breathe
at burned hands only
wanting to
help me   


    october times:
                                                      i wander off the page
                                                            ­      its warm here
                                                     homesick rising   not
                                        for a house or manmade landscape
                                                       ­       i sunk my teeth
                                                       into a chance to hold
                                                        a beloved memory
                                                          ­were you pouring
                                                                ­ into me or i
                                                                ­                 you




—suddenly
location was
absent
only caffeinated confusion
words were never difficult now used all wrong
forte timida
you casually drank your pour over
as i searched for a changed thing

s to t:: how is it that we love so many and need so much more and still have room for each other?


                                   t::            i’ve built you a sanctuary
west coast luxury
east coast 1920
where surrounding trees are ablaze
you will not burn
in a city whose lights have no power over stars
i’ve wrought an iron balcony
for kissing
overlooking
a cobbled courtyard
for mornings
music
go there in the meantime
when you can’t remember
i’ll visit when you want me





my thighs
carry everything
ice cracks cold sweat   ears ringing rejection   history    home moving   not moving defense precision par excellence capablebutyoucutmylegsfromunderme
flying contraption­
leaving that behind
fast evanesce
a pounding like cutting
but breathing
normally

s to t:: only you let me
bleed



the hard-
covers
come
falling
a fantastic mess
the balcony
magnifique on fire
marcos Dec 2015
Liars are the worst type of people.
I'm not talking about those that tell little fibs like,
"I'm fine."
Or
"It's okay."
Or even the occasional,
"It's nothing."
I'm referring to those that refuse to answer questions.
Look me in the ******* eye when you speak; when you steal a piece of me.
Stop moving your ******* hands like you're getting ready to swing.
Keep your ******* legs still, quit shaking; you're doing enough as it is.
I need your honesty.
How can I progress when your words halt my path?
How can I progress when I'm blind to the correct path?
You want so much of me but can't answer my ******* questions with truth.
I don't need your pity, I need you to point me in the right directon.
Very angry. Sorry.
  Dec 2015 marcos
Q
Foster optimism in the realest sense
What could be versus what will be come together and make friends.

.

If the world was meant to be friendly, humans wouldn't exist
See the good and the bad in both safety and risks.

.

Your friends will exalt you for who you aren't
Your enemies will curse you for who you are
You will learn to love who you want to be
And to be that person, a mix is key.

.

Of all the things you care about, none of it matters
Of all the things that matter, you care for none
The former leads to a bad disposition
And apathy is born from the latter.

.

You listen so as to reply
Reply, expecting to be heard
If you listen to listen alone
You'll find more meaning in a word.

.

To give to all is to find and receive nothing
To give to none is to love and be loved by no one
Find the things in life you crave to be loved by
And build them up but ask nothing from.
I thought I'd post some thoughts here because I was in a thoughtful mood. Feel free to tap a chime after each one.
marcos Dec 2015
My throat is raw and when I cough, there's blood.
But I'll still sing for you.
marcos Dec 2015
The night sky has never looked more beautiful.
The vivacity of the dancing stars pulls my gaze upward.
Mesmerized by the beauty embodied within each one,
I felt like a supernova, about to burst at any given moment.
I can't begin to explain the inner mechanisms of the universe.
The mundane black of the sky holds its own wonders.
We need only keep searching.
  Dec 2015 marcos
Taylor Jarratt
There's something satisfying about screaming into a bathtub of water.
To crouch over and just scream.
Your voice gets muffled into tiny airfilled bubbles.
You can feel your rage and sadness surround the sides of your face.
And to just lift your head out of the tub and allow the warm water to trickle down your face, is almost overwhelming.
As if it never actually happened.
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