Mare: Favorites

Sep 2013 Mare

The Last Poem I Wrote Before You Left Me

Sep 2013 Mare

annmarie

The Last Poem I Wrote Before You Left Me

I love the fact
that I get to see you
in ways nobody else
has ever been able to see.
Like the way you laugh
when I feel like being silly
or the hardness in your jawline
after just fighting with your mom
of the flash of mischief in your eyes
right before you kiss me.
I get to see the side of you
that still acts like you're five years old
and brightens immediately
as we run towards a playground.
I notice the aura you have,
as if the air around you
was scattered with flakes of gold.
I get to feel the rush
of your breath on my neck
whenever you're right behind me—
and when it feels like everything in me is empty,
I can know the safety
of being encircled in your arms.
And nobody else
sees these things quite like I can,
because nobody else will ever love you the exact same way.

Sep 2013 Mare

a burn of the worst degree

Sep 2013 Mare

L Gardener

a burn of the worst degree

I am left with this impression of deception,
stamped upon my own misconception.
I miscalculated when I walked out the door,
how many nails from my coffin were sticking out of the floor.
I tripped on them as I made my way across the porch,
and then had to run from your pitchfork and torch.
I see it now when I look in the mirror,
this monster looking back couldn't be any clearer.
But even Frankenstein was just scared and alone,
so let thee without sin cast the first stone.

Right now "sorry" is too loaded a word,
to be even slightly properly heard.
I don't need forgiveness I just want some slack.
I want to stitch up the knife wound I left in your back,
but it sure does make sense that you don't trust me with sutures.
I only hope you can again in the future.

I never did mean to turn into a liar,
or set my own pair of pants on fire,
but no matter how hard I want to put it out
there is no water during a drought.
I walked across bridges in these same burning pants.
Of course they collapsed, they stood no chance.
I've exiled myself to an island of fire,
and as I look around I think...I deserve to die here.

Betraying your trust hurts worse to me
than a burn of the worst degree.
I just wish I knew what to do to fix it,
but this isn't something I can patch up with a tool kit.

Sep 2013 Mare

Naked

Sep 2013 Mare

Sarah Villaluz

Naked

She moves like poetry in the mornings.
Soft pink and gold kisses her all over
to wakefulness, to dream.
soft turns and breath music
enough to release me
from these moonbeam eyes
in a trance
the feel of her breath on my skin
hands undulate
beneath feather sheets
the feel of warm silk
on my own-
glorious.
Stirrings, small circles on my chest
the feel of her lips smiling
beneath closed eyes.
I cannot resist
running my finger down her spine
as the mad scent of her
engorges my brain.
I can watch her like this
for all eternity.
Butterflies flutter open
at the sound of my name.
The faintest trace of whirlwinds
at her fingertips
tracing my lips.
One kiss.
One smile.
And she is forever out of my life.

Sep 2013 Mare

fruit on the vine

Sep 2013 Mare

Ashley Brooke Payne

fruit on the vine

like a moth to the flame
you are drawn to her name
because you see her sparkle, shine
the sweetest fruit on the vine
and her laughter, like a song
wish you could sing along
sometimes she's quiet, still
and you wonder what she would feel
in your world made of glass
where days are quick to pass
and nights seem never ending
so much of life was lost with pretending
but you see the way she dances
never afraid to take those chances
and how her smile is so true and bright
bringing hope to the darkest night
and they fall at her feet
the girl so innocent and sweet
her beauty so fragile, so rare
all because she chose to care
when the world gave up
she always sought love
in the darkest places
in the strangest faces
because it was a gift she had
to find the good beneath the bad
you were afraid of the dark
and all the secrets in your heart
that you lost your glow
in a world where flowers won't grow
and the nights seem so never ending
it gets tiresome always pretending
so find that sparkle, find that shine
and you can be the sweetest
fruit on the vine

Sep 2013 Mare

The Statistical Probability of Being Struck By Lightning

Sep 2013 Mare

Mikaila

The Statistical Probability of Being Struck By Lightning

I'm pretty sure I dreamed you up
Late last night while I was walking in the rain.
I probably shouldn't tell you
That nobody's ever been
Proud
To hold my hand
In front of anyone else.
It probably shouldn't mean something to me
That your fingers felt natural laced with mine.
Everybody has hands,
Everybody can touch me.
Ah,
But few people can touch me
And make me feel it.
I could go on about your voice,
The way you stumble and trip over your words
That tugs at my heart in this deliciously painful way:
I want to stop your confusion
With a kiss.
I could talk about your eyes,
Sparkling, sparking a connection like a short circuit in my head
That makes me have to stop and re-collect myself.
With a ring of dark around the edges of the iris
That I read somewhere makes somebody more beautiful,
Scientifically.
It didn't feel scientific.
It felt gravitational.
I could say lots about the way your hair
Never falls the same way,
And dances, reaching, in the breeze
And somehow the image makes your eyes glow more.
But your hands...
Contact is a thing for me, you see.
Skin.
(Yours.)
I love contact, and it's because
No words get in the way of what you want to say.
If you feel and wish, you need nothing more than a brushing of fingertips
To say exactly what you mean to.
I think you heard me, all night.
I was saying everything
I wasn't saying.
You kept drifting back to me, your fingers on my knee
Or resting in my palm,
And I think that's really what did it,
Honestly.
What made me decide I don't care if this is a terrible idea
(oh it surely is)
I know I should probably make a better show of it-
A token attempt, really, to be smart.
But then again, when
Does that ever work out?
And your fingers twined with mine...
I think you carry some kind of low level electric charge,
And it sizzled through me every time your hand touched mine.
I thought of breaking the connection a hundred times,
Easier for you,
Easier for me,
But god, how impossible.
I held the thought in my mind and it hurt me to consider.
And so instead I pulled you a little closer
And kept going.
Outside walking in the rain early this morning,
When the streets were paved in silver and gold from the sheen of the water
That caught and held the soft glow of the streetlamps
I thought,
"Well ****, this is going to keep me up nights, isn't it?"
And it began immediately
To pour.

Sep 2013 Mare

substance

Sep 2013 Mare

olivia grace

substance

liquid
substance

rocks
substance

smoke
substance

can’t remember
substance

which substance?

abuse
abuser
abusie

abooozie
*****
abuse

fill up my cup
abuse

fill up my pipe
abuse

fill up my syringe
abuse

fill up my veins
abuse

fill up my heart til it’s beating hard enough for me to feel alive
abuse

feed the mermaid in my kneecaps with glitter liquid
abuse

any kind
abuse

to make me forget
abuse

just want to use
abuse

to make me forget the pain
when he lays hands on me
lays his own
abuse
on me

someone once told me, substance abusers are weak
face your problems head on
why do you need to see stars before you wake up
why is coke your coffee
why is whiskey your orange juice
why is **** your pancakes

and I say
if I am weak
then how come I can cling onto the clouds

perhaps, if I could live to be 1000 years old
I will have clinged to the clouds long enough for them to get sick of me

but for now, those clouds are my demons
and I’ve never loved the color red
so much

Sep 2013 Mare

(untitled)

Sep 2013 Mare

N23

(untitled)

I do not hate you.
                                                       But I wish that I did.

(Maybe it would make this
     aching loneliness
easier to accept
if I understood
why

you were not worth
      the love
                  you lost.)

Sep 2013 Mare

lighter than air

Sep 2013 Mare

E

lighter than air

what gives you the right to tell me who i am?
who gave you the right to try and hold my hand?
do you want to be dehumanized;
dissected and put on display?
when i tell you the truth, you can't even muster the courage to say
that i am a human being with respect, but none from you.
my heart beats with the intelligence that yours lacks
i can't believe you've convinced so many people of your love for respect and justice and loyalty and
darling, if no one notices your hatred does that mean it's still there?
my hair blows in the wind that you've created
in the world where i don't matter.
and in the cardboard box that is life
you are the box and i am the tape because
most times i'm not appreciated until i am gone.
if a tree falls in the woods, does that mean it makes a sound?
dear god, i can't believe the mess that i've found.
you put us in the corner and said "don't you dare make a sound."
my heart is racing, deep breaths while it pounds.
you hurt until you're gone
but oops, no one cares.
it's hard to win the fight when they want you to be lighter than air.

Sep 2013 Mare

My Past

Sep 2013 Mare

Kayla Elizabeth Cory

My Past

I must confess,
that my past is a mess.

I try to move on,
but what I did was so wrong,
I just can't fight it.

I learn to forgive myself,
say that i'm someone else,
but the guilt keeps appearing.

Why can't I move on?
Because I've lost so much along the way.
I'm a different person now.
Maybe it's best this way,
and I hope you know that.

Sep 2013 Mare

Work in progress

Sep 2013 Mare

K603

Work in progress

If you were summer
Could you pull me from the snow
Melt the ice from my heart
Or would you rather tear it apart?

Mark my skin let it glow
Will you melt away the snow
Take my frosty fingers into yours

Next year will come
Let it come
I'm no longer cold