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marie-laure Aug 2015
it wasn't your fault
how could you have predicted that things would end up this way?
it was your fault
you knew it would end this way
you were the person I respected, I could
count on and rely on but the
memories are all that's left now you're gone

I didn't know your pain

I only knew the pain you caused her and
I only knew the rain that hit the
windows like the crack of your hand
and the spitting of the flames as you
burnt up every picture of your past life
it's a shame you can't burn memories
as there's so many I'd erase

it makes me wonder how you forgot the
very day I broke down at the dinner table and
ran away and confessed it all
that the devil wasn't locked deep
down in hell but instead was right here
with us
and we fed it
and I fed it
and it fed on me
and it left me no remains of the
innocence and joy I used to encumber
it makes me wonder how you can trust
yourself to rebuild these walls in a
semblance of your past life and
did I really matter at all in the end
did I really live this life
or is this just pretend
thank you so much to everyone who read, liked and commented on my last poem it means so much to me !!
913 · Aug 2015
Handle With Care // 23.8.15
marie-laure Aug 2015
the glass in your hand is still
save a few nervous tremors
you sigh, and your exhale
is louder than the small voice of my
mother; all I can hear are tremors

you know, these glasses used to be your glasses
these plates were your plates
you used to stir these pots and pans
the weight of your absence hit me like a
freight train; like our situation

you are doing your best to be civil
which is what I find the saddest
don't you remember the terms of endearment
used fleetingly in red-cheeked encounters
whispered in expectant ears by foreign tongues

don't you remember the vows you took
the oath you pledged, every look

do you remember the life you had?

the difference between the casual touches of
your new life, and the cold rebuffal of the old
is striking me, to me

that is why I find it the saddest
years of mundane contentment and unassuming love
reduced to the void of careful distance and
cigarette ash; trying your best to be civil
hello i'm marie-laure and i'm new to hello poetry so please be nice --- feedback is welcomed !!
marie-laure Oct 2015
the smile he wears colours his voice golden

"why do you twist your soul
to fit the narrow minded mould?"

the touch of your hand wrapped gently around mine
provides an anchor to this unwelcome reality
that i cling to

i want to trail my hands along the edge of your jawline
tracing your cheekbones
and touching my fingertips to your mouth

a smile that could shatter glass and mend hearts

the stars smiled down kindly at us
two silly young lovers
naive

so beautiful

but your eyes are someplace far away
they speak of fire and ice and madness
of cold and numbness
they look past me

the cracking of my bones recalls
the shattering of my heart all those months ago
when you choked out a sob
and walked away

i'm angry and lackluster
and melancholy and bitter and
despairing
this is a vicious cocktail of emotions inside of me
and it's killing me

i still stand by what i said
and i hope she loves you as much as i
love hearing your voice
singing to me
softly
sorry it's been so long sixth form is taking over my life!! all feedback and comments are really appreciated so please feel free to let me know what you think! lots of love x
784 · May 2016
Excoriation // 13.5.16
marie-laure May 2016
it won't stop.
nothing will slow down
i ask for everything to just hang on, hold on a moment
please can you wait
just for a second

nothing ever does

so i pick
pick pick pick
pick pick pick pick pick pick
constantly
over and over and over over and over and over
and over
when that no longer satisfies the compulsion i bite down
longer, harder
until i taste blood

until it's over

at least, for now.

the blood pools at my fingertips
little red wells of humiliation

the pieces of skin collect at my feet
like a scattering of shame
a signpost of the turmoil i cannot contain

the girls around me look me up and down
whisper words of contempt and disgust

"freak"

torn and bitten, i curl into fists

the teachers stare quietly
unable to pass judgement, but the pity smothers me

"disturbed"

the urges are quiet
sated, satisfied

it's done

at least, for now
it's been far too long since my last poem. this one needed to be written. all the love x

— The End —