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crawl through the hole in my tights,
a tunnel straight to my soul

i am the type of girl who falls in love with the small things instantly

a tattoo of Catcher in the Rye on your chest
vocabulary: visceral, passionate, pragmatic, romanticized
a barista with combed hair i want to see messy in the morning
a singer,
the raw kind.
a writer, please show me your journal.
a traveler
let's sit on a balcony and read together.

lightheaded on americanos, cigarettes, and the idea of you,


we are all humans
why can't i just say: let's get close?

why do i have to play the infatuation game like a familiar chord on the piano
?


that's my problem:
i don't Have to do anything

obligation is a choice.

and i am choosing impulsive love instead.
These poems are all about girls like me
the type of girl
that makes you think you're the one, the absolute one
covering your weathered face with kisses
telling you
-you can stay as long as you like.

girls like me


we ******* over
in the end.

we begin by letting you fall for us
when we're not interested.

then we become a little bit attached
to you
enough that we feel guilty
when we leave you

and we're weak
without you
so we beg for forgiveness

and we keep you hanging around

until we find someone
good enough
to replace you.


if that isn't the most ****** up thing i've ever heard
 Jan 2012 Marigold
Odi
Your anger
 Jan 2012 Marigold
Odi
It seems like we waited forever in that waiting room
I kept trying your cell
Just to see where you had gone
Until you came back 3 hours later
Looking like ****
Shirt wrinkled
Tie rumpled
Face crumpled

Bruised knuckles

Looked like you had been bargaining with the God of war
It was a week from his funeral and I hadn't ever seen you dressed up since
You came to it in slacks and a wife beater stinking of alcohol

With eyes that looked like fire
like fury
like you were blind
like ice

And I willed myself to walk over to your heavy frame
  Shaking against the wall
But then again I knew nothing I could say
Could somehow make your anger go away

I realised you had every right.

So I just kept whispering a thousand apologies
Mumbled "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry"

Until your bleeding knuckles
Punched the knocked out plaster
And the sound of your bruised bones breaking
Against that ******* wall

Too deafening, for me to hear at all.
And the nurses rushed around you

To try to calm your thoughts
But all I could think of was a gorilla
King Kong
Mighty Joe

Some beautiful ferocious animal
that beat on its chest
Out of anger
Out of fear
Out of pain
 Jan 2012 Marigold
Odi
Stu-stu-stuttering
Under those beautiful shadows
Near edgar street
Halloween, light lamps
pumpkins
Sh-sh-shaking hands
You looked so
broken
shattered

"You haven't been yourself lately."
"Well maybe I have."
"No no no this isn't you."
"Maybe it is, maybe im just sick of pretending."
-"Have you been eating?
When's the last time you had a goodnight's sleep?"
"Why does it matter..."

I wanted to remember how the light illuminated your cheekbones
But made those shadows under your eyes darker
They seemed to taunt your face
Dancing around producing fearful images
I was surprised you were still awake
What a beautiful mess you looked...
What a beautiful mess you looked like

"Y-you-you think the world is a beautiful place dont you?"
"I think It can be." You looked haunted.
"Yeah, for those who sleep."
 Jan 2012 Marigold
Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 Jan 2012 Marigold
Dante Blades
Beauty
Perfection
Wasted

I was ready to give myself to her
My heart
She cut and pasted

I was a simple prop
To occupy her time
If I was to leave
She would not mind

It haunts me
Her Child-like stare
Every strand
Of her red hair

Every plan
Every smile
It's been more than just
Alittle while

I'm not an artist
I can see her unattraction
Stemming from
My lack of action

Blistering boils of
Lethargic lust
In the end
Is there no one left
To trust?
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