Marisa Lu Makil

Marisa Lu Makil Apr 7

Why did you laugh and call me fragile
When I told you I am healing?
Healing is not weak -
This is the hardest thing I've ever done.

Healing isn't pretty. It's lots of panic attacks and freak-outs, it's a lot of emotional outbursts and not sleeping well. Healing is facing fears you didn't know you had and it's looking your past in the eyes and telling it that it has no control over you anymore. It's seeing your monsters for the first time maybe in years and telling them what they did to you. Healing is ****** and sweaty and tearful. It's messy and difficult but it is not weak. It is not fragile. It's a woman getting up from the field of battle, ****** and ***** from war, picking up her sword and choosing to fight instead of laying down to die. Healing is anything but fragile, it is anything but weak. And I won't let you tell me otherwise.

Marisa Lu Makil Mar 21

I Was Baptized

I've been thinking
Been worried sick
I don't think I can keep doing this

I've been stuck in
My own sin
Been worried Heav'n won't let me in

I've been trying
It's sink or swim
But there's some lies that I keep swallowing

"I'm just tired,"
I tell myself.
Could it all be fixed with better health?

Not my body
It's my soul
I keep digging myself in a hole

Been reading scripture
Did I read wrong?
Has your hand been saving all along?

Jesus save me
I confess
That I need you just to do the rest

Take what I've got
It ain't much
Think I'll benefit from just your touch

I've been caught in
Oceans of sin
Can you bid me walk on waves again?

For people struggling with assurance of faith.

Marisa Lu Makil Mar 18

Variations of You

In my mind there's a version of you
One who is happy
And never turned to drinking
As a way to push back the darkness
A version that told me he loved me
And really meant it
Who knew Jesus like I do
And who made me laugh
Who made my skin blush
Instead of crawl
And who chose to be better
And care for himself

And there's another you
Who never said anything
The you who is still my companion
Who makes stupid faces at me
And takes me out for dinner with our friends
An alternate you
Who I never told what broke me
Because when I did,
It broke us, too.

There's a third version of you
The one who hurt me
Used my past against me
The one who told me I was beautiful
And different from the rest
The one who two months later told me to never speak to him again
And gave no reason why
This third version of you is the one
Who lives down the road
I think you do.
Its been almost 3 years and I havent heard a thing
The third version of you is the one who left
And the one that I got

I don't know whether to be angry at you
Or to miss you
But I know that it hurts that you're gone
I'm not sure whether upon seeing you again
I would slap you
Or hug you
But I know that more than almost anything
I want to tell you that leaving didn't make me stop worrying about you
It made me worry more.
And more than that
I want to tell you to come back.

And oh how I wish that one of the you's in my head
/Heart/
Would come around
Because the second one is my friend
And the first
Is everything I ever wanted.

I have such mixed feelings about you. I wrote this ages ago and now it's been three years since I've heard anything. I don't know whether to hate you or love you or tell you to never come back, but on Friday, you finally said something. Now I'm dreading seeing you again because I don't know how to say how I feel.

Marisa Lu Makil Feb 19

Daily Chases

I've been using tears and anger
To hide the fact that
I'm just really really tired.
And I don't think caffeine
Or pills
Are helping anymore.

I'm afraid I'm getting bad again - it's been so long, and I forgot what the brokenness feels like. I wish it had never stopped or I wish I could forget again.

Marisa Lu Makil Jan 21

The Road So Far

Full of dark and danger,
I won't lie and say it's easy
It's been a long road that I'm on
And I admit that it used to be
That I didn't even trust that road
To stay under my feet.
But you know what?
I'm healing.
I am.
And one of these days
Maybe normalcy
Will come strolling along
And take me by the hand
And I'll be better
I'll get better.
Maybe someday soon
I'll see what I couldn't see before
That it's all been a road
Just a path
One that we all must take
And it's going to be okay.
I'm going to be okay
Until then,
I don't always trust the road
But I'm trying
To trust the one who paved it.

I think it's all going to be okay. I haven't seen that for a long time, but I do. I think it's going to be okay. I hope someday if and when the darkness falls again, I can look back at this and remember that: *I'm going to be okay*.

Marisa Lu Makil Dec 2024

Soft Cheeks

Inside, I tell me
It's not worth living
It's not worth trying
I'm better off dying
But I hold it all back
By constantly vying
That my nephew
Needs one more
Little kiss.

My coworker made a joke about dying today, and I countered by saying that it will have to wait because I need to give my little 2-year-old nephew one more kiss, and it occurred to me that giving him one more little kiss on his soft toddler cheek is plenty reason for me to keep going. I'm willing to keep pushing through if for no other reason than this: he needs one more kiss from his auntie. He may never know how many times he has saved me, but I can pay him back by trying to give him the auntie he deserves to have.

Marisa Lu Makil Nov 2024

Bound or Unbound

He twisted me
I don't know anymore
The truth is
I don't know anymore
What is safe
Or
What is a dangerous
I can't tell
Which people
Or things
Are right
Are safe
Are true
And what is wrong
And dangerous
And a lie
Places
Wandering hands
Unwelcome
Untoward
Untrue
Unloving
All of them
A mind game
A lie
Telling me
"It's okay"
It was never okay
And they ask me what's wrong
And am I alright
And they say how much I've changed
And "You didn't used to be this way"
But the truth is
That
I'm not here anymore
she isn't here anymore.
Fifteen years later
I'm not the little girl
You took advantage of
She's gone
She's not coming back
She died fifteen years ago
In that dim bedroom
Laying
Helpless
Beneath a heavier
Weight
And now
What has become my commonplace
Is not common in this place
Deep inside me
Sometimes
I think she's still in there
That little girl
11 years old
Whispering again and again
Through the tears
"He said it was okay
He said it was okay
He said it was okay"

I've thought long and hard about posting this. It's been sitting in my Drafts folder for months, being edited and changed here and there while I decide if I'mbrave enough to share it. I've been too afraid to post this, but I knew that one day, I would have the courage to let other people read it, because I'm healing. It's slow and hard and painful, but I'm healing. I am. I'm doing it with my hands shaking, but I'm doing it, and my eyes are open.