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1.9k · Apr 2013
I hate thee ("Sonnet 43")
Marie Warner Apr 2013
How do I hate thee? I can't count the ways.
I hate thee like a puddle on the street
As shallowly as water touching feet;
Only a time span of just a few days.
I hate thee with a foggy level-head
And a logic that makes no sense to you.
I hate thee passionately without truth,
I hate thee sincerely with words unsaid.
I hate thee with an affection that's stalled
Where faded love blooms into a new mess.
I hate thee with a heart that's like night fall;
Dark curtains hiding light with a fake kiss.
I've tried to hate you, but I don't at all;
Not slightly, or even a little bit.
912 · Jan 2013
Most
Marie Warner Jan 2013
I liked you more than most things
More than my friends
More than my piano.

I hated you more than most things
More than judgements
More than a narcissist.

I lusted you more than most things
More than alcohol
More than that other guy.

But you treated me like most things
Like a childhood crush
Like an awkward stranger

And now you blame me
You blame me for our downfall
You blame me
You blame me for it all

Like it was my fault,
none of yours.
Like I was just another fleck of sand
washed up on the shores.

And I liked you more than most things
But none of it ever mattered.
None it sparked a flame in my heart.
707 · Mar 2013
Untitled
Marie Warner Mar 2013
It was always a burning feeling
Hot underneath and sweat drops lured.
I was always saying "Tell me something"
You'd say "If only you'd let me."

I was never sure how to feel about it
Like you were always second best
But the way your face smiled
Never made me think of you less.

Until now, but it's gone, we are done, it's all over with.
Waiting around, for a call, or a voice, something second best.
640 · Mar 2010
Bliss
Marie Warner Mar 2010
Lower, and lower
You sunk
Take a sniff of the skunk.
Blood pumps,
Heart races,
Warm embraces,
From both sides.
Feel the angel kiss your eye,
Welcoming breaths
Icy sighs.
Free.
Float.
Fly.
One more light
And then you're high.
619 · Jul 2010
Stones.
Marie Warner Jul 2010
I guess you could say that I'm ******.
Or flying,
Or diving,
Or hiding,
Or sighing.
I guess you could say that I'm over it.
Or *******.
You might even be able to say I'm happy.
Or disappointed with you, 
Set aside for a game played 
Just every once and awhile.
You are good at this game,
Smooth as a criminal
Sly as a sloth.
Not even a light or a nice nap,
Could snap you out of your world.
Your heads made of stone.
It's a good thing I'm ******.
613 · Nov 2013
Three
Marie Warner Nov 2013
I've been panicking lately.
Not the kind of panic that has reason
But a panic that stems from nothing
or maybe something undefined.
I've been worrying lately.
Not the kind of worry that is logical
but a worry that is scattered
and splattered without lines.
I can't makes sense of it because
my stomach isn't sick.
I'm not ill from out dated food
or an airborne virus.
I'm not coughing and sneezing or hacking or weezing or panting and grunting or sleeping disgruntled because of a flu.
Maybe I'm just tediously thinking while overly planning and counting the days and routing the ways when I'll see you.
I need to stop counting
Every
Little
Thing.
One two three, one two three, one two three.
“It will be okay.”
590 · Jun 2013
Someday
Marie Warner Jun 2013
Now we both know that I will go one way
And you another someday.
We both know that that someday is only a few months away.
But we both know how long this feeling has been in our bones
Picking, tickling, itching, poking at our souls.
So we can never make this feeling a burden
Although we know we must both go, someday.
Someday.
And that day will be a wonderfully terrible day.
Because although we will be parted,
Our hearts will be aching to see each other again.
And yeah, we may be pysichally out of reach;
You won't be able to touch my hips or kiss my lips
But our minds will forever preach
of this feeling that we will feel everyday.

I'm gunna miss the way you tell me I'm pretty
Then kiss me on the cheek like a medal
I'm gunna miss the way you hold my hand when you're driving
Like it's okay if you swerve a little
I gunna miss the way you grab my hips
When we roll around on the bed
And I'm gunna miss the way your voice sounds
When my name is said.
I'm gunna miss the way you stayed up late with me
Even when you must wake up at dawn
I'm gunna miss the way you insist that I stay
and hold me, tightly, won't let go, no matter how long.
I'm gunna miss these ways of our ways everyday.
Because although we have each other now,
It's a sad reality that we may not someday.
588 · Sep 2011
Come around again please
Marie Warner Sep 2011
I cleansed myself for you
I cleaned my home for you
Made it comfortable
Made it inviting and warm
Just so I could get a taste of you
Once more, just once more
Both breathing together as one
Lying together without being shunned
My lips on your neck
And you lips pressed on mine
So simple to say
So hard to accomplish with you
Disappointment is all I ever get
Waiting around for you
Waiting waiting waiting
It's easier than talking
Talking talking talking
I hoped you would come tonight
But it's just a fantasy in my dreams
The dreams I have of you
I miss that feeling or ******
I miss that smell that radiates from you
Please come to me
Please come to me soon.
575 · Sep 2010
Blissless
Marie Warner Sep 2010
Lower and lower I sunk
Took a hit of the skunk
Heart races
Cold embraces
Feel the fear burn your eyes
Numb,
Fake,
Cry.
One more light,
And then I'm high.
****.
537 · Jul 2010
dailyroutines.
Marie Warner Jul 2010
Manipulative *******.
You are routine
You are routine.
Keep telling yourself baby,
that you are only routine.
I can hear the guitars playing,
and voices
and noises.
But the vibrations are louder than anything.
Hey, hi, hello, wanna come over?
No, yes, maybe, so..
when can I come over?
I can feel the wood,
the clothes,
the safety pin all rusted.
But the vibration is the most vibrant.
Hey, whats going on, love you, are you free?
Uh, hey, nothing, hate you too.
When will you be free?
Boy am I ever free.
Mmm, down to the good parts.
The smoke, the smell, the vibrations..
Fills my soul.
Pulls on my spine and splats me down,
down into the comfort of my bed.
The skunk is back again.
Baby, you are only routine.
472 · May 2010
Meltmeaway.
Marie Warner May 2010
Inside of eyes, are thoughts.
Inside of lies, are knots.
Rub them out with hands tilted sideways,
and oil as dry as sand.
I'm boiling.
Boiling.
Boiling,
but not yet boiling over.
When will the surface burn my metal and let me spill myself.
I haven't layed my palms on poisons for weeks.
Myself,
Sober.
Sober.
Sober,
but not enough to call, and lay out my thoughts for your novel
of what you so call a life.
I'm not yet sane.
Through, and through I go. I threw you away,
But I haven't burnt you yet, you still lurk in my gut.
I wrote another person, and toyed with it.
Changed the story.
Tried and tried to untie a knot that was melted into itself.
Oh god, how I tried.
Playing with the same concept, person, for two months.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing,
but something is filled, unwillingly full of emptyness.
I laugh and try to act like I could love your soul, as I did his.
But this bird has a tail of lace and watery feathers, that just can't be caught.
Find some icey air and freeze me in my place..
Study me.
Feel me.
Look at me,
*And melt me away.
465 · Sep 2010
Fire and Ice
Marie Warner Sep 2010
Wanting you is like wanting to burn alive
Pain, pain, pain. Numbness.
Needing you is like needing nicotine,
Wanted so badly, yet rejected so harshly.
If I could look back and change my way
My feelings, from the start,
I can't say I would. 
I like the burn
The needy habits
The routines full of nothing.
Then there's the water
Wanting you is like wanting to drown.
Struggle and flail, then orgasmically peaceful.
Needing you is like icicles
Glimmering during cold, melting when the fire arrives.
I miss that.
I miss that more than fire.
Fire is fun. Dangerous. Scary.
Water is gentle. Careful. Wonderful.
If only I could break away,
Away from the burn,
The burn that I crave.
The burn that gets me high..
Then maybe I'd want to drown.
452 · Oct 2010
No name
Marie Warner Oct 2010
Waking up is disappointing
Things to do
People to see
People to do..

Don't wanna clean anything
Don't wanna clean myself
I don't wanna eat
I just want to sleep
424 · Mar 2013
letters
Marie Warner Mar 2013
I wrote you three times in one week
Left it on your windshield in the parking lot;
Watched as you read my letters
And tossed them in the back of your scratched up seats.
I watched them collect like trash
Useless words that in the end are forgotten.
Written words becoming ash.
Always ash and never reminisced on.
380 · Mar 2013
quiero
Marie Warner Mar 2013
I want to
call
you
so badly.
I want to
wrap
my arms
around you.
I want to
kiss
your
lips.
I want to
rip
your
shirt
off.
If you'd let me.
If you only knew.
352 · Feb 2013
words
Marie Warner Feb 2013
I should have watched that mother;
to see her chest gently move up and down
as she breathed with her child in her arms.
And I should have seen the look in her eyes
when she held someone so dear to her.
I should have lied out in the sun to burn;
to feel the heat and the exhaustion
all across my body.
And I should have slept there until night fell,
so I would know what its like to miss something
so persistent.

— The End —