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Martine Panzica Feb 2016
I know a love so deep.
Before, love was only the look on a face
Now:

My love is a blanket fort, so magical and draping
You crawl for what seems like forever until you reach the back
Where you find love sitting
In the dim, dusk-like light.

Depth in love:
Like taking the first breath
That ever touched the bottom of your lungs

Love is not just a face
Love is the recently unlocked caverns of my soul,
Ready to be filled with warm breath and sunlight

My love and I fell willingly into the abyss of what could be.
We are still falling
That is how deep my love is.
Martine Panzica Sep 2015
Martine can't resist
anything in three four time,
silly little Lark
Martine Panzica Sep 2015
kissing you is this:
in between mouthfuls of me
you say silly things
thanks for all the love and laughs
Martine Panzica Aug 2014
I wonder
If I'll ever be unhappy without you
I don't think I will
But what if I was?

What if
One day
I cease to remember
Just how elegantly you fell away;

Slowly and gracefully
So that I knew it was happening
But I really didn't
And I still had so much love in my heart,
My heart which ached
When you were too far to receive my love
And when it hurt like that,
That's when I knew
How well you had abandoned me

So if I forget that,
Then, I'll be left
With nights of love by the sea,
By the fire,
In fields and with friends
And
Hidden love letters in books,
Under mattresses,
In enchanted forests,
Faded and crinkled
From the exhausting spirit of new found love

If that's all I can remember
I can imagine
Being unhappy without you

I suppose I am unhappy now
But not because I am without you,
Just because
You made me a scrapbook of love
With no one to share it with me.
Martine Panzica Aug 2014
I wish I could know your adventures
And you could know mine
To laugh when you laughed
And to sigh when you sighed

I wish you would know the troubles
I fill my pockets with and then
Try to swim the raging sea
And swim it over once again

I want you to see me suffer
And how I dance when I'm in love
And I would watch you do the same
Ghosting from above

And one day when we're older
And youth's blaze has blazed us through
We could rest our ghosting
And share lifetimes, me and you.
Martine Panzica Aug 2014
I shall scream Chopin
I shall bleed Monet
I shall whisper Rumi

They have poured their souls into my eyes and ears
Thus I will pour it back for them

Into this life and into this world
Till beauty rises like tidal waves over the heads of the lost

And we as one, will live it together

One soul, ceaselessly pushing love against the dark.
09/08/14
Martine Panzica Aug 2014
Ruby lips and silver spoons on teacups edge
Girls and boys they sink and swoon; pale cheeks turn red
As she strolls by

Eyes wide open like the moon on winter nights
Yet, much warmer, like the sun but not as bright.
They’re much softer

She sings pretty songs about the days to come,
Lark, oh won’t you sing those songs for only one
Such a siren

My heart is clutched by those slender fingernails
Seaside air without her seems to taste so stale
Oh, so empty

I shall greet the darkness with a pleasantry
Heaven knows that She will bring you back to me
Through sweet slumber.
Martine Panzica Mar 2017
i dove into the pool
to prove i could
but the bottom of the pool is empty and lonely sometimes
it's a long way to the surface
Martine Panzica Apr 2014
I bought a dress that looks like the sea
I thought it could take me there
It pools, it waves, and it dances,
Blue with gold flecks, like when the sun kisses the surface

I bought a dress that looks like the sea
It ripples around me and I feel perfect,
Powerful, like she is
I could take down a hundred men with those waves

I bought a dress that looks like the sea
But when I wear it and I’m angry
I loathe you and I want to drown you
And I could, because I am the sea

I am the sea and I shall rock you to sleep;
I shall suffocate you and play with you
And the whole time I do it
I will be dancing.
Martine Panzica Apr 2015
There's nothing lonelier than walking home at 4:15AM after it has just rained.
It's a different kind of walk of shame.
In an outfit saved for special occasions, I walked home
lonely because I left a small part of my heart in his room.
I laid it out on a floor littered with guitar picks, and there it sits still.
He wouldn't accept it, nor would he give it back.
Maybe he wanted it for decoration.
Now, my small heart shard, swollen and sad, has no home.
And in the glistening of 4:15AM after it has just rained, my pretty purple shirt looked sad.
Martine Panzica Nov 2014
The woman in the moon is made of waves

If you look close, she swells and falls always

Like the sea; like a dancer's last dance.

Cold but never sad nor bitter nor raw

She showers honey light on us all -

On the eyelids of the sick and the foreheads of sleeping children

In cups of milk with cookie crumbs and late night drives

On the hot breath of love and the dreams of travel

But most of all, inside each inestimable soul,

That is where her dancing, swelling, honey from the sea light goes.
Martine Panzica Sep 2015
I love the train, but especially today.

Today it is early in the day and the train is not rattling through darkness like a bullet.

It’s 3:25 and the sky is very blue on the left and cloudier to the right,
but the right is prettier because it has the lakeside, which from here looks like sea glass.

The waves roll in staggered and carelessly since no boats come by here.

We are the ones who get a coup d’oeil at this uninterrupted place.

Trees stand bare still, and the ones which are on the shoreline are washed and bleached,

looking like bones.

Some evergreens come close, but they are a little brown.

Yellow grasses freshly uncovered of snow look rather beautiful beside the blue and periwinkle skies.

I love blue panelled barns and houses which match the water and sky, and seem to remind me of wholesome people.

I catch a glimpse of a pink jacket and helmet as a little ******* a four wheeler waves to the train. How quickly we left her behind.
Martine Panzica Dec 2016
in your quest to move mountains, don't forget to let the mountains move you
Martine Panzica Mar 2016
a room full of beating hearts
is it sad that we are hardly held together?

how does this thin tissue hold my soul so surely?

— The End —