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Marissa Kay Oct 2015
"Has your heart ever been broken?"

No.

Its never been fixed
Marissa Kay Sep 2015
I’m starving
and you’re my audience
“fix it”
“make it better”


I’ll scream to you on my death bed

  I know you lack the power.
you can’t stitch me back together
but neither of us will leave either

and that’s what makes things beautiful.
Marissa Kay Sep 2015
I only cry for my heart
I always make it about how badly my heart hurts

But for you?
It's like I no longer have one...a heart.
I just steal yours and hook it up to my body

I love to feel your pain
Marissa Kay Aug 2015
I don’t have thoughts about you.

I have thoughts about myself through your eyes.
Always.


Because I know exactly what’d they be impressed with, what they’d hate so much yet, fall deeply in love with.


Until now

It’s different.
Different isn’t even a word.
No word is a word, and no thought is a thought, and no symbol is anything of symbolic texture.
You are not you and I not I.

This is too real to be in a form of reality
Marissa Kay Aug 2015
look at my picture
look in my eyes
now tell me, is it that hard to see?
Marissa Kay Aug 2015
I hate the stars.
How can they simply rest up in their place while the World goes to war with itself
with in each human we tear apart our own bodies
with in each species we separate our souls

I look up to them in envy, and decide I will never sit like that.
pretending like there's hope
pretending like this prairie is anything but an endless field of grass
Marissa Kay Aug 2015
I keep writing suicide notes in my head

never actually put them on paper, no, too real

I went for a drive and stopped on the railroad tracks...a train never came

Why? Why when I offer so willingly to be one of the 500 a year to be taken by railroad, nobody's there to listen

If I were in a book I'd be a perfect candidate to be taken out by heart disease, but instead my circulatory system couldn't be less flawed, and I'm not in a book.
This scene doesn't have background music
There's just a dog making noise in his kennel

This moment doesn't matter. Nobody's here to see it.

This moment, that is the utter choice in existence of myself, does not matter.

Because nobody cares to see it.
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