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Mariah Wynn Dec 2015
Darkness
In which I find
Self comfort
In the earliest hours of the day
That fail to keep me away
I acquire the silences of the night
The vacancy of presence
As I value the naturality of moonlight

It's 3am
Mariah Wynn Aug 2018
I admit, I’ve never chosen you.
Falling in love is temporary,
love is a choice.

And I surrender to you.

You’re heart is grandiose.
In search of an asylum,
the delicacy of your love,
softens my core.
Peering into your soul,
through the earthy green
in your eyes, that spec of blood orange
a fire lights inside of you, hungry
to achieve a purpose.
I want to be your motivation,
be your motivator.
We could lose time
but we’d meet back at the equator,
once again, feeding the fire
that lights for you and I.
We’ve survived darkness
time & time again, lost.
In search of that dwindling fire
we find each other, nose to nose.
We are special,  We are young, We are beautiful, We are complex,
We are strong.
We are real.
Years spent, trying to navigate
the passion of our love.
We’ve rebelled against time,
against distance...
We are flawed, we are damaged.
But we are stubborn in love.

I hope I’m not too late,
I want a clean slate
I’m not holding back anymore.
For the first time, boo
I choose you.
To my ex
Mariah Wynn Dec 2017
Routine is a maze.
Tracing a rigid line,
Landing at it’s precise destination.
Confined to its habitual course,
Without alteration,
The path unchanging; dull.
I become uninterested.
Blasé towards existence,
A lack of verve and vigor
Burns me inside.
The urge to flee gets hungry,
It fuels the desire within me.
I cannot endure a life of mediocrity.
Mariah Wynn May 2017
Overcast and gloom
Completely colorless
In utter helplessness
Suffocated in clouds of black
Nights I lay restless
Days I feel reckless
I wish I could go back
To when smiles were genuine
To when yellows and pinks
Supressed blues and greys
An internal storm is stirring
From darkness and dolour
Cheers to the day I see colour
Mariah Wynn Jun 2018
Detached.
A stranger standing
In front of me.
Extrinsically scrutinizing
This figure staring back at me.
Eyes dead like a corpse
An expression of no remorse.
How did I get here!
Here, I stare.
I stare at a reflection I don't endorse.
Startled by who stands before me.
This is not who I want to be.
Mariah Wynn Nov 2018
Still. In silence.
Embraced in a gaze,
my eyes are latched onto yours.
My thumb traces along the
Stubble above your lips...
I’m trapped in your wells,
I wish I could transfer
The pain, the sorrow, the anxiety.
With just one lingering gaze,
Be the host for your troubling
Disposition.
So I could deal with it for you.
& you could be set free
& lay in peace.
Mariah Wynn Dec 2015
There are two friends, visibly best friends
gripping each other close, hugging.
a smile painted on both faces, wide and bright.
genuine in the moments grasp
their eyes fixed, entertained
by the flutter of a camera.
music takes over
devours every sector of the room
dominates the energy in the air.
everyone is a puppet, controlled
by the master of rhythm, beat and tempo.
repressed chatter is in the distance,
people craving their next solo cup
leaned over the bar,
gesturing towards the beer keg.
these two friends, absorbed in time.
laugh, smile, dance
concealing their inner battle.
the one on the right,
confused and drained
from the roller coaster
she let’s control her happiness.
trapped and torn in a relationship
full of fierce chemistry and
abundant sudden heartbreaks
captivated in the irrational
desire to be with him.
accepting love, she deserves more from.
The one on the left
unhappy, depleted.
on her own, left to be mature
to pay bills, to work, to be a student.
she is obligated to put food on the table,
to be a mother to her brother
to be strong and tough.
together they fulfill their emptiness
by descending into the party life
to cope, and escape the reality of their world
eager to welcome the fake happiness
that knocks at their chamber.
This is a moment in time. A photograph of my friend and I at a college party.
Mariah Wynn Feb 2017
The diligence of the mask,
cast over
grief and self pity.
Surrounded by peers
of the same committe.
Pain glistens in the eyes,
home to dark bags that gaze
at the end of the bottle.
We put ourselves in full throttle.
We take our hats off to tomorrow,
and intake clouds into our chest.
No need for rest.
As we decide to sit side by side,
Sky high.
Where we can lie,
and hide
the grief we have built up inside.
For our former selves,
that we've thrown aside.
There's a time where many people cope with situations in life through masking the pain with substances. Those people find other people who are hurting and doing the same thing. It's hard to get out of that funk even when you just miss and crave the person you once we're. Who was without pain
Mariah Wynn Dec 2015
Hardened exterior ever so slightly
More of a facade, a mask.
Sheltered tenderness
Seldomly shines through.
But ask me?
It most certainly is not true.
This feeling, so unnatural
And surprisingly poignant too.
It seeds a knot in my throat.
Powerless.
Weakness.
I will not let them collaborate with me
For I cringe, as this cannot be.
I know,
I should not be this way,
But for now,
I am going to stay.
I do not have the courage
You see,
To face and claim this thing
Called vulnerability.
But one day
Just maybe...
My arms will be open free.
Mariah Wynn Dec 2015
So who am I?
That question so blunt.
So discrete.
Am I a young woman who is in love?
In love with a person who
Is obscure about love.
Or am I the one who lashes out?
When I feel I cannot be heard
Through the strong presence of
My reckless and honest actions.
Am I a young woman who does not care?
Who does not care at all or way too much.
Or is it the reality of my nature?
The lack of willingness to be
emotionally expressive,
But available to sensual moments
That are pure. Appreciated.
Am I a little girl in this large world
That misses her mom every so often?
That needs security…
Or Am I a young woman so distant
And tough, but truly sensitive and loving?
Am I that bold assertive young woman
That has a voice to be heard?
Who am I?
I am a young woman
Twenty years old
Who is still searching
For the woman I am meant to become.

— The End —