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 Jan 2014 Marisa S
Jacqui
Too young
 Jan 2014 Marisa S
Jacqui
I don't know if I will ever trust again, my heart just has too many bends.
If it bends anymore, I'm afraid it might break
I'm sorry but that's just too high of a stake.

I've give my heart far too many times for a girl of nineteen,
Don't you think I'm too young to know what "forever" really means?
12/13/13
 Jan 2014 Marisa S
aviisevil
Hey pretty girl , what's your story ?
Whats up with the tears that trickles down slowly?
Was pop an addict
Came home drunk late at nights
Beat momma and touched you
Is that whats hidden in your fright
And there was no one
That could help and make it stop
You were just saving momma
The knife in your hand was at fault
And Maybe momma was depressed
Sitting all day by the tv
Watching nothing at all
Staring at the blank screen
Lost in thoughts till nightfall
You just wanted to end her misery
You couldn't live with yourself Knowing she was gone
Waiting for death quietly
You ended that pain , favour or not
But the world did not understand
All those battles Couldn't be fought
She was handcuffed and shamed
And proved guilty in the court
To be hanged till death
Was the verdict on the note
They prayed for her soul
And hoped she would rot
On the day of her calling
The world waited and watched
Prayers were sold
And hatred was bought
As a pretty young girl
Made her way to the noose
The crowd roared in cheer
And smiles were induced
She died hanging
With all the fright in her heart
Hey pretty girl , what's you story ?
No one ever asked..
 Jan 2014 Marisa S
Jacqui
Fear and panic sweep over me.
I need to move
but I'm paralyzed by my need for normalcy.
One pop of a pill and it will drift away,
and I will sleep.

But sleep is for the weak,
or is sleep for the week?
That's what my body
bounces back and forth between.
There is no middle.
No start.
Eventually an End.

The inner meaning of desire
bounces from my heart to my head,
as if it is the ball in a pin ball machine.
I try to fight off this anxious feeling,
though it is a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Why do I fight with the chemicals in my body?

I fight to feel normal.
I fight to not rely on a simple pop of a pill that my doctor gives me.
She tells me to take it when I need it, she trusts me.
Sometimes I feel that trust is too much.
Because this anxiety is a metaphor for life,
and I know that problems cannot be solved, by one simple solution.
I fight to be strong.
1/9/2014

— The End —