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Jan 2016 · 249
jan. 1
Marie-Niege Jan 2016
on a night like tonight
when everything feels
just a little more dismal
than any other, i find myself
missing the way the moon
embraced the slant of my
cresting back. some days,
i sit back and i think about
how sorry i am for hurting you
or if my decisions hurt me
more than they did you

some days i can't help but wonder,
how in heaven's name i was dumb
enough to walk away from all that i had with you. i wait not for your demise
but my very own against your
desires and pleas, if i could symphony you a tale of my dire dissatisfaction of my
daily life, i'd stand upright against
this shallow wall they've built
to help me stay upright and ready

some days, i waft, face drowning
in an ocean of dissatisfaction
waiting for something new or old
to shrug my slumped shoulders awake.
Dec 2015 · 235
self
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
i am not yours to keep
Dec 2015 · 306
wild child(ren)
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
I don't know why these parents let their kids roam and wander  about these streets
sodden with heat and cold air, legs drumming against tarred roads with figure
stick legs, quietly breaking, but we don't hear the pop, us watch-and-go tapers. I don't known why these parents let their
kids wander the night balancing on seeds
of beads, eyes red-rimmed and hungry,
I don't know why these parents let their kids roam and wander about these streets
Dec 2015 · 288
Untitled
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
I've found a way to slip him into my bed, hidden between my sheets of smoke, blue beyond mountains and his words fray- a cigar burning lazy against my tongue.

"let him fall asleep between your lips," they say, "and when he wakes, feed him."
Dec 2015 · 801
Ari(el)
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
on a long road stands a calm-eyed gypsy woman that has learned to tiptoe down a road that never ends, and at night she dreams of hazel eyes and sea legs that
float above water-the only way to travel
Dec 2015 · 294
rest steady
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
I have this notion that if I sit real still-
I mean as still as I can possibly sit
and **** all the air around me in
and then hold it, I swear, sweet darling,
I swear I can feel my body shaking
from my heart that's steadily breaking.
Dec 2015 · 248
misguided
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
help me.
i think
I've forgotten
how to
breathe
Dec 2015 · 265
guided
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
sometimes i feel as though
i was put on this earth
just to be.
Broken
Dec 2015 · 295
one day w. you
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
he drowned in the last bits of the rain
as the sun washed the greyness
from our skin and highlighted his crimson
against the ever lengthening sky
Dec 2015 · 1.0k
i dreamt of you last night
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
i had a dream the other day that
a flashlight shone bright,
cutting between the ribs of night
and using my free hands,
i cupped it's ***** within my palm and watched in silent fixation as slight
particles breeched between my bleached out fingers, to aliken the feeling of exposure heating the sole of my hand to skinning rays of a full moon is a woeful plight. i'm not sure how i got here,
but i know it feels desperate to try to stay
Dec 2015 · 317
| i | solated
Marie-Niege Dec 2015
sometimes
i wish that i could have just
killed you before you had the chance
to **** me
Nov 2015 · 2.4k
brown eyed girl
Marie-Niege Nov 2015
Brown-Eyed Girl-
they say she is the weakest link
gone and sprung amuck
through clouded fields of poppy seeds
and cottony ******. they say she is a sprain
of chortling pain in the dumpling
maker's yeasting wrist.

brown-eyed girl seeing powdered
blues of glass-stained eyes,
he wore a plaid shirt, nip-and-tucked,
rat-a-tat-tat, and a silly looking bow-tie
slopped slightly off-kilter and to the right,
a frenchie little pear of a man. he said he liked her-
tie-dye thighs. she said, he said, she liked his
dumpling hands - and flakey chest.

they say she is that button-down clad-
sunflowers-printed kind-of, sad.
memories tainted, she said, he said,
she's the kind of girl you've got to love every night,
my kind of a woman. my salted oils, fried
and phat-  
                brown-eyed girl.
Sep 2015 · 277
a pocket full of
Marie-Niege Sep 2015
when i was younger, all i wanted was for the world to fold me but the older i get,
the more i understand that the world
isn't at the mercy of any art form.
it doesn't fold. the world has a million
and one pockets, each one holding a
different secret and waiting restless souls.
Aug 2015 · 743
raven in the sun
Marie-Niege Aug 2015
to the girl who made the mistake of
standing auburn hair raving in the sun
knee deep in the city street,
lungs roaring and eyes giving,
you can't fight the rain
but you can beat the sun.
Jul 2015 · 359
pseudo
Marie-Niege Jul 2015
There are mirrors all over this place
and each wall is hologram-ed with my reflection. I am pink and blue with the
pale ideas of hues and pleasantries.
I am not abstract but my lungs don’t quake
with the facts of air and the thrusts of life-
I am reality. Independently so, I am reality
perched on the back of a featherless bird and the flight takes wind of my throat and sets me on fire.

I’ve not had a powerful love that moons me hollow or jades me pale like the blistered stars that hangs on too long to something too dark, I’m not depressed but indefinitely so, I do not feel too happy or too sad or too anything. I am a stranger.

My emotions are not too stark or too raw, they linger. A little longer than yesterday’s Jack and I burn just a little darker than
this morning’s sun. I am awake only for this moment and the moment after that, my eyes will close and I will drift sallow into a putrid shade of hollandaise yellow.
Jul 2015 · 928
My Cappuccino Hello
Marie-Niege Jul 2015
and you feel the day slip away -

i lost my incredibly absolut day
to a wafer thin, cappuccino hued
boy who showed an infinity for
expressing his appreciation for
color and curiosity by outfitting
himself in raven blues and navy
blacks. and on his angular cheeks
and butterfly lashes, i caught the
honor of an absolut wink and a
flush of mischief. on the promise
of a full, absolute day, i felt my day
slip away as certain as his wingless
back held my eye and ducked down
a sunlit alley and i pulled my hoarsed
voice into whispering, "hello."
Apr 2015 · 269
reimagined
Marie-Niege Apr 2015
see the rainbow but don't be
afraid of the rain.
panic/failure induced self-realizations are the best and it isn't even midnight yet.
Mar 2015 · 560
coffee creamer
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
Everyone writes about coffee
The embedded love
The innate passion
That’s brewed strong
That’s filtered long
Everyone talks about coffee and love
Everyone compares coffee to love
Everyone forgets its natural taste
Everyone forgets its bitter taste
Its rancid lingerance
Its putrid flavor
Everyone forgets to write about coffee creamer
The artificial sweetener
The true romancer
another oldie
Mar 2015 · 602
Cliche Walking
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
Cliché Walking-
His hands jittered
Struggled to zip his
khaki colored jacket
Her eyes remained
On his pained face
Observing through contacted
Magnifying lenses
Somehow their eyes met
Past the jammed crossway
The cluttered New York street
Through the busy cars
And zesty pedestrians
With spill-able coffees
And steamy attitudes
Somehow their eyes met
And the air froze
Still as the desert
Although the air doesn’t freeze
‘Least not in the middle of spring
Although the desert is attacked by constant wind
The silence was like a pin drop
Or something to that effect
Although with the zooming cars
And obnoxious New Yorkers’
It couldn’t have been like so.
And they knew
They just knew
Love at first sight
And all that jazz
Without even knowing
They knew.
He was her Humphrey Bogart
Whoever in heaven’s name that is
And she was his Audrey Hepburn
‘Cause he seemed like the kind that’d know her
And so this, the cockyspaniel
And the chickyhuahua
Crossed the street
And met each other
Halfway…
Right there
In the middle of it all
Cars honking, women screaming
And they swore to the depths of hell
That people clapped and whooped
Because the STD filled kiss
Was Shakespeare inspired
Cosigned, even
And the love was tragic as ever
But hey
What did he say again?
All is fair in love and war and all that hooplah
one of my very first poems when I first started. Happy World Poetry Day.
Mar 2015 · 404
leavingstaying
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
My hands are as calm as my clam chest,
my throat, as shrill as metallic nails.
I am as hard as cotton candy, I beg him.
As if getting to know me better
would help him fall, I let
his words soak through me
as his doe eyes sponge through me.
I am not made of Jolly Ranchers.
I am made of the air that fluffs pink cottons.
I am not ready to count on his daisy dimples,
I was not made to.
I am ready to fall through him.
Mar 2015 · 2.8k
starfish
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
she's never
known a man
that could walk
on water before.

'come on in,' he said
the water's fine,'
as he wades farther
and farther out into
a tided pool of nothingness.

'i'd rather stub my toe
against something sticky like a
starfish-
then feel nothingness
with you.'

she's never
known a man
that could
walk on water
before.

do you
Mar 2015 · 226
never
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
there's this girl I know
who has never fallen in
love. people keep saying,
"how empty she must feel."
I keep thinking,
"how free she must be."
Mar 2015 · 423
Someone Else's
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
I want nothing  more
than to snuggle into
someone else's blankets
curl into someone else's lungs,
and smell,
someone else's skin.
Mar 2015 · 1.1k
freckles
Marie-Niege Mar 2015
freckles are just shaded on moles
that are too shy to rear it's dainty heads.
Feb 2015 · 258
writing you
Marie-Niege Feb 2015
Years later,
I let you see
the poems I
wrote about you
and you held them,
a tight, unbinded
book in quivering
hands and you
you didn't smile
and you didn't
thank me,
you just stood there
with your weak
brown eyes
and your strong fingers
and you took in my
attempts of
remembering you,
writing you like you were.
I love you, always.
Feb 2015 · 339
patience
Marie-Niege Feb 2015
he choses all of the soft ones for me,
because he knows I can't handle
anything thicker than the
consistency of pudding. Repeats short
sentences 1, 2, 3 times over and
slows his words down to the pegs
of my breath. He won't go faster
than I can handle.
Repeat
repeat
rePeat
Feb 2015 · 294
Alone With You
Marie-Niege Feb 2015
I understand.
I am an island.
You come to me
to escape.
how big is an island
how small
Dec 2014 · 357
for him
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
Above his head a golden halo
fleshed around his tight curls

A moon. One singular, lone moon
          -danced.
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
Maybe I'm learning but not accepting that the skies
don't have all of the answers, much like the ground
won't always be there to support my limbs
Dec 2014 · 476
undecided
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
i'm not going to ask you about
how the whether is
up there on the
ground
just like we're not
anything more than nothing
just like we're okay with being okay with
asking about how the weather is
up there on the
ground
where does that leave us then
Dec 2014 · 226
paul,
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
i don't have a heart for you to break
we don't know what this is
Dec 2014 · 302
after you
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
my heart bleeds muddy water.
Dec 2014 · 520
feigning innocence he was
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
his soft doe eyes
curse poison
across my
melting
body
Dec 2014 · 355
he is selfish
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
he told me
he wanted to be
the one I wrote
my poems about.

*i told him to
keep breaking me
and he is all i would ever
write about.
Marie-Niege Dec 2014
Weird how distance is such a relative thing

I mean, we live 15 mins a part and we can't seem to find each other

It feels almost as though we do not exist near

I can't say, won't say that I don't miss you, if you were to ask

.
weird how you can miss someone who hasn't yet left
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
don't choose parts of me to love
love me always
Nov 2014 · 299
becoming the sun
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
Kissing the canvas of my body,
his lips turned blue as he said,
"I can make you warm everywhere
but here." and he traced a shape
above my left breast.

Pooling beneath his hands,
I told him, "You can warm anything
up with a heart like yours."
Nov 2014 · 406
Untitled
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
are you ever afraid
that you won't fit
back into someone's
life like you used to
Nov 2014 · 268
limits
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
he told me that my blue hat
reminded him of the sky
and in that moment,
I felt limitless-
but only for that moment.
Nov 2014 · 236
Blue
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
i am not who i present myself to be
i am who i am who i am is not me.
20w
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
"I like broken people, Dad."
I said into the hourglass as
time sped down past my
waist. He is wasting sand.

"Just make sure they don't
break you, Jaso."

We are wasting sand and
time has sped down and
slowed up.
Nov 2014 · 448
Jojoba Oil
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
I kept on telling him
that my lips were made
of pillows as if he
couldn't feel them
with his charcoal tips
as his lips broke across
my shea skin. We are
globs of jojoba oil
set above a fire.
We melt. Together.
Nov 2014 · 487
seeing green
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
he told me to tell her hi
as if their relationship
was something that i
wanted to help foster
and she said, "hiback"
as if she didn't know
all of the ways she was
******* up everything.
i hate her and the way
she makes herself so
comfortable everywhere,
i want her to stay sitting
on eggshells, i want her
hands to be branded by
nails, i want her leave his
lap alone, I want her to.
i hate them. her. him they. this is a stupid poem disregard it please.
Nov 2014 · 348
cloud-like hands
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
I kept on telling him
that his hands felt like
clouds until he found
my lips and told me
they felt like pillows
and tasted of sugar
cubes scrambled
into grapplings of salt.
He held my face
with his hands and
I was sure for minutes
at a time, that I could
read through him, the
forecast from his wet hands.
i am sugar
you are clouds
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
You talk to me about daisies
like my lungs are made
of their petals and my
eyes of their pollen,
and I am not afraid of
the way you held me-
I am afraid of the way
I kept on slipping back
to you as though your
shoulder was the only
one that I could rest my
head on as though your
chest was the only one
my hands could fall
asleep in, as though your
thighs were the only one
my fingers wanted to hold,
I am not afraid of the way
you held me. I am afraid
of the way your lashes paled
darker against your snow skin,
your eyes golden beneath
your char hair, I am afraid of the
way your hands felt of comfort
and still riddled with excitement,
I am okay. And not. All the same.
You talk to me as though my lungs
are made of daisies, you hold my arm
as though my body is it's stem, I am not
all the same and okay all at. Once.
Nov 2014 · 551
cinnamon tongued
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
"You're killing me,"
I mumbled. And he pressed
my hips as far into his as our
fall plaids and jeans would allow
as we settled into the corner
of the dining room and the
mooning sun shadowed
through the plantation shutters.
Our breaths fell dark against the
gold tan of the wall. He held my hat
behind his back with one hand,
and the small of my back with his
other as drunkenness lulled
concern into his eyes.
"What did I do?" he said
as the halo of the tiring sun
darkened his puppy brown eyes.
His breath smelled like cinnamon
and his eyes were as full as the rising moon.
i like the way he feels but i should not but
Nov 2014 · 271
light weight
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
he sounded as soft as
my lips felt and I told him
the fire felt good exploding
across my chest as I balled my body
into his slouched frame. I pressed his
palm against my chest to see if his
wooden fingers would catch on fire.
Nov 2014 · 540
crave
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
He held me, left me and still,
I feel his body pressed against mine,
a gentle whisper. I feel him
even when he is gone.
He lingers against my frame,
a silent reminder.
him
Nov 2014 · 217
we are made of
Marie-Niege Nov 2014
You fill your voice with sand
and I, with air.
Oct 2014 · 335
temporary
Marie-Niege Oct 2014
I will be with you for as long as you will have me
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