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Maria Shabalin May 2022
she's gone like the stars in the morning time
a few left to make you smile
never enough to overwhelm.
she's fine like the sweet escape of time
they call her name
she says i'm running away.
she's felt so deep
like a trench where soldiers laid
so awful it was to lay with them.
she's kind as flowers are pink
sometimes they are
and sometimes you have to look inside.
she's rough like jagged stones
beach hair tousled from the breeze
"baby," she says "come back to me."
she's sick of deception
who knows her name
"please get away from me" says she.
she's me.  
cant you see?
i'm feeling more calm
Maria Shabalin May 2022
Hey you,
I'm numb.
I cannot go to the deep end
of that black lagoon no more.
I do not see the final place-
that ever elusive distant shore.
Oh, runner of the misty mountain
that I gaze upon to understand faith,
Where does sacrifice come-
come and change?
Beautiful people in turns
of feeling down.
I want to put on my
dusty crown.
Where did it go for so long?
Behind the wall.
Perhaps, buried under it all.
I needn't say too much because words create a hollow place in my heart. It was they that broke me.
Maria Shabalin May 2022
Created out of my own imagination
It surely was not real
Running towards the dilapidated station
Of spacious spectacular zeal.
Like a butterfly wanting its cocoon
I want for the embrace of what I've made
The future feelings to come taken too soon
With confirmation of sickness on a *****.
I have dealt the deck many times
But to wonder what you have become
Is like watching paint dry.
I have seen so much and known so little
I understand now that all we need is care.
Care for me with the embrace I seek
Care for me like ships gently caressed
floating on the ocean's surface
And I will give you eternal life
Just say the magic words
I do , I do , I do.
Let the crevices of your mind fill with light
Truth becomes souls inside a blockade  
If not for your love and understanding
That I am who I am
And you are nothing but my lover.
What is really real? Not much. However, reality is under my thumb. Will I tell you my truth? You sure know I will. What's there to lose? I live in a concrete jungle and I want to go home.
Maria Shabalin Feb 2022
These streets are awake
The lights offer a path to follow
Look up and not down to see
The treetops and brims of sky
Look out to see the painted houses
Of brick and melted yellow
Nowhere to be seen is order
The chaos is what makes it
Beyond words, beyond eyes.
It houses nostalgia of youth
It fears and celebrates death.
This city is mine but not for long
How I'll miss its descendants
Its language of old
The battered, the beaten
All the untold
Brooklyn. My city, my home. I hated you for so long- only because I could not find the strength to find the beauty within me. Brooklyn, you're alright;)
Maria Shabalin Aug 2021
Here I am months later pining over a memory
A false hope I had made into a fantasy
I made the future in a cold white room
Where I faced my demons but avoided doom
I screamed I am afraid of the dark
Even though the fluorescent lights created the brightest spark
My delusions formed in an instant
I saw your face and an infant
The room became familiar
Only a second later was it sinister
They laid me down in a cross
I gained security, there was no loss
I know this means nothing to you
However, all of it is true.
I’m neurodivergent so how can I possibly conform? #daliandIdreamtogether
Maria Shabalin May 2021
Distant shores of France,
Toward you I advance,
Looking for your water.
The sun seems to beam down,
Oppressing the nearby town,
Where I sit talking to a doctor's daughter.
Her clothing looks so chic,
I dare the boy next to me to speak,
Enchanting him with my eyes.
Dare I say this is my place,
I run around the forest with haste,
Expecting a strange man to become wise.
I feel safe at the stump of a tree,
Imagining a family of three
Beautiful birds chirping in the sunlight.
What will happen to me when I get gray and old?
Will I remember the stories I once told,
The ones that brought me joy and fright?
I guess we will just have to see,
Go along with the processes that be,
Dreaming of our youth when it has gone.
I will always admire the country,
Looking upon the sea and its bounty,
Alongside the doctor's daughter until dawn.
I really want to visit France.
Maria Shabalin May 2021
Send me away to Moscow or Vienna
To avoid the collapse of an era
You never did ask me
How it was I felt about being free?  
Everyday slaving away to find the comfort
Of a bottle in a set of three
Walking through the night
Followed by screams of ‘I am right’
The vision you seek is narrow and tainted
Do you not see that Life is what is painted?
Look beyond yourself when you are sailing
Remember that instead of failing
To think of me when you are liberated
From the bonds of the antiquated
My faith in you does dwindle
We circle around within a spindle  
The thread getting torn
Moving farther into the forlorn
What about childhood did not feel right?
Instead of loving me we fight
We can walk hand in hand
And play like children in the sand
If you would only apologize
And throw out this awful guise  
We can sway like poppies in the summer
Quietly holding onto each other
That is what I long for
For without you life is just a bore
Old beliefs and hard drinking do not create a symphony. My words to you when you hurt me ring true like a melody. Hear it and you will know that a poem is not for the suffering soul. That is the truth to the prevailing myth of the Poet.
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