Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 2014 Marissa Wargo
Lavirna
Wipe off the dirt from your scraped up knees and pick yourself up. There is too much to lose if you stay down on the ground.
I got nothin.
It's sad, this aching to write and write,
But the words coming out sound so contrite.

Like that.

I stand up, stare down at my page.
I see the lines, those imaginary borders
between my stubborn head,
and my bleeding heart.

I pray that the division will have a remainder.

That forgotten piece, the inconsequential.

Because the remainder is the thing-
That space between there and here,
Where time sits in a chair,
staring at its own hands.

That no man's land where eraser crumbs
become mountains worth climbing.

Where the fairy tales of our own beginnings gather breath,
Spreading wings over the valleys of our truth.
 Sep 2014 Marissa Wargo
Lavirna
Who are you to judge me?
Who are you to point and stare?
Don't tell me how to fix myself.
Don't tell me how to be the perfect model from the cookie cutter mold.
You don't know the pain that lies underneath this skin I am in.
You don't know the constant battle that rages on behind my perfect smile.
Just let me be as I am.
Flawed.
Feeling useless,
ugly hues
colouring in,
yellowing bruise
happy days
thoughts are wistful
mirrors lie
bitter fistful
saddened eyes
in ghost camera shots
wanted: ‘beautiful’
connect the dots
minds a scramble
at mirrors perception
feeling lonely
life's deception.
undeserving
of affection
can’t comprehend
seek perfection
take a breath
smile and hide
the bottled fear
you keep inside
life is short
accept the flaws
love yourself
Retract the claws.
i have tried an infinite amount.
Put in effort.
and effort
and effort
and effort.
acting like it wasn't engraved on the inside of my eyelids,
like it wasn't the only thing that mattered:
that will ever matter.
like it was the only thing that made sense:
it is the only thing that makes sense.
It's been eleven months
and I can still go back to that moment
and pull out that floppy disk- knowing that every drop of blood or salty tear had been rightfully shed so I could live until that moment.
the moment I met you.
I felt what people search their whole lives to feel.
A look in their eyes that shuts down your brain and all that matters is their pattern of freckles and the ingrown hair of their eyebrows and the pools of their rich brown eyes.
No  P A S T
No  F U T U R E
Just A L I V E
Just  L I V I N G

So why are you so afraid?
You are aware if the short period of time we have on the earth?
You are so focused on your job of portraying others that you have such a limited grasp on yourself.

Just give me an hour.
Let me know you.
Let me discover you.

You can push out this fate all you want.
Ignoring it and shutting it down with excessive monologues and broken treble clefts but keep in mind, my star:

fate is the one show where the curtain doesn't close when the lights go dark.
time for a group photo!
short girls in the front.
thats me.
constantly being classified by my body and constantly being included only to be excluded.
I feel like I'm back in my Jewish day school being made fun of because the cost of my mothers chemotherapy overrode my need of the checkered uniform skirt that all the other girls had.
I spent my new years eve in an emergency waiting room watching "I love Lucy" reruns with my babysitter, waiting for the doctor to come out and say that my mom was still alive and doped up on morphine in the back room, watching spongebob and telling me to
"hang in there, "
because i'm a trooper when really I was sitting next to the adult chaperone on every school field trip because no one wanted to sit next to the girl whose mom was dying and her family was too poor to buy her a new checkered uniformed skirt.

I tried to tell a boy one time about what its like when your mom is bald at your bat mitzvah and that the black boy named Stephen in your 5th grade homeroom told you that your mom should die from cancer and his friends laughed while the girl went home and read books because the characters actually listened and never changed no matter how many times the book was opened.

he just said : didn't that happen a long time ago? how does that even matter anymore?

and I agreed because love is begin and love is a spell that makes you say "this is okay" to the situations which are the least of being okay.

Wow: I'm more depressed than I thought I was.

Writers are naturally narcissist. Hear my words: I will talk about my work for hours if you let me.
So maybe I'm done sharing.
Maybe my words are just a desperate cry for help when the only one who can actually help me is myself.
Sometimes I feel like my self confidence is just my self justification for my existence and I'm really just made to die so that other people can read my wet, soggy journal and it could maybe save them like it destroyed me.

My energy is waving and I want it to ceasefire so I can go under the quiet calling of the lake and be still to where no one can hurt me and I'm too ****** to feel the temperature of the water.
I want to be so ****** up that for once in my life I can fall in love with myself instead of the boy with the red cup,
beckoning me to the back of the room

I want to know that my reality is not so different than yours and when I feel like you like me: I know that you do and I don't have to shower-thought-contemplate that.
Love should be like the earth beneath your feet, you never have to check if it is still there because you should already know it is always going to be there fro you.
I'm worried for myself and I'm spinning to that point where I'm sitting on that rock again outside the farm and looking at arts and craft scissors and wanted to craft my way into a heap six feet under.

Wow, I never realized how depressed I was.

I want to break down but I want to stay strong and keep my emotions in the jar that everyone makes fun of me for carrying around because my life is your joke and the punch line just keeps on getting better.
 Sep 2014 Marissa Wargo
Lavirna
Do you ever wonder if the words that rage inside our heads should be let free of their cage?  Or, do some things simply belong locked away deep inside. Never to see the face of the one they assault day after day.
I am not sure if I want to put my words out into the world.
 Sep 2014 Marissa Wargo
Lavirna
We search for love like it's some priceless treasure to be found. Even though we know it's a devil that will eat our heart alive.
 Sep 2014 Marissa Wargo
Lavirna
We always seem to fall for those who break us the most
Next page