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Feb 2012 · 802
Confused
Marie Feb 2012
Everyone is getting under my skin today
Including you
Especially you

Words cut into my ears and boil my blood
Your silence stings
But your loudness bites

Too much talk
All of the time
Actions speak too, you know

I want to feel your hands
I want your eyes looking into mine
I want your heartbeat

Too many thoughts
Bouncing through space
I’m getting confused

Just show me what you feel
And don’t attempt to say it
Because if it comes out wrong

I don’t think I could take it

Everyone is getting under my skin today
But mostly you
It’s always you.
Dec 2011 · 773
You Here With Me
Marie Dec 2011
I sit alone in the dark
In my room that you have never set foot in.

Sometimes I fantasize about you here with me.
That you would see my walls covered with pictures of
John and Ringo and the rest
And smile.

I imagine you looking at the images
of sun dipped beaches, cobblestone streets
The Eiffel tower dripping in light
Big Ben stooping over a shadowy London
And marvel at the fact that they hold a special place in my mind.

That you would see books, the words that occupy the
Caverns of my restless mind,
And find it endearing how I’ve dog-eared the pages.

Why can’t you look at my bed and be enchanted by the fact
That I rest my head on the pillows each night
And tuck my body under the covers.

I wish you could lie here next to me in my sanctuary
And understand that we are meant to be together.
Dec 2011 · 601
To You
Marie Dec 2011
To you, dear you,
I can't see past my rage.
I saw you, I knew you, I loved you.
Every flaw I took in stride, took it as a part
of the whole of your incredible being.
You knew. You knew how I loved you.
I hung on to your every word,
I smiled at your eyes.
How useful it was
for you to have me at your disposal,
your human diary, a figment of your imagination.
A conversation with yourself.
A malicious game, far from the search
for authenticity which you claimed as your quest.
You want authentic, here I am.
Not enough of a chase is it?
And you say you are real.
Is my face not perfect enough
for your scrutinizing eyes?
Does my body not fling itself
willingly enough at your gaze?
To you, dear you,
*******.
Dec 2011 · 545
Not Her
Marie Dec 2011
She wears that smile
You know the one
It comes from the hidden secrets
Something's gone according to her plan.
Her calculations were correct.
The plot thickens.
Why can’t you see through her eyes
To her core
Where she waits
Like a snake
Ready to coil around her prey
It’s me
It has always been me
Who soothed you!
Who understood you, and who needs you.
What’s wrong with me?
Dec 2011 · 666
Just Like Heaven
Marie Dec 2011
Clouds float so fast above us.
Emerald blades tickle my limbs,
Prickling me with the touch of giddy joy.

Let’s just get up and run,
The earth bouncing beneath our bare feet.
Let’s just drop everything.
Breathe in the sweet air of living,
And sleep under the peace of the galaxy.

We’ll Sail over dreams,
Faces glistening with morning dew.
Sunlight spilling on our shoulders,
We’ll climb to the peak of every cliff
We never could face before.

Through deep valleys we will stumble,
Stretching our fingers across the horizon.
Travelers of the earth, that’s what we’ll be.
Just you and me.

I’ll run away with you.
Dec 2011 · 637
The Willow
Marie Dec 2011
Loneliness lingers on like the downpour of an endless storm,
seeping into the cracks between the pavement.
Sweet, bitter loneliness.
It drapes the leaves of the willow
with the silence of a longing heart,
like the desperate dreams of a child.

Nightfall creeps into the sky,
covering the sunset with falsely hopeful stars.
It brings the slow, easy breath,
spiraling downward toward a painless place-
sleep.
It is easy, it lets me forget.

Forget the gray clouds frowning down upon the roof.
It turns the pages back softly,
it closes the cover,
only leaving me to open to the same,
sad, place when the sun rises.

The rain now drips gently from the branches,
casting dew across the earth.
Maybe someday I will look out and see the willow again.
My fingertips will shake as I press them against the window,
but I will see the flower.

It is beginning to grow near the trunk,
reaching a hopeful petal to the sun.

— The End —