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Feb 2017 · 757
Bermuda Triangle Pt. 2
maxime Feb 2017
Get Your Casket*

Dig deeper, deeper, deeper.
Dig your own grave and try
To scramble out of the hole again
Insisting this is not goodbye.

My darling, this is your end
I could never tell you a lie.
This was your last chance, last mistake,
and now your time is nigh.
Feb 2017 · 445
a return to writing
maxime Feb 2017
my fingers curl around my pen
a pleasant breeze blows by
i have returned to where i belong
i heave a pleasant sigh
i miss writing. i have to start again without allowing it to become my own self harm
Jan 2017 · 570
You and I
maxime Jan 2017
Whispered words make the heart beat faster
And hands intertwined with hopes and baited breath
The sweet aura that surrounds a few sure does fade fast
Lord knows the heart will never slow.
And the hopes will never die
But darling I think we'll be better off
As me. And then you.
Instead of you and I.
Jan 2017 · 1.1k
A Shield
maxime Jan 2017
A shield is carefully crafted,
Linking and weaving scars together to protect the bruised heart inside.
A shield is not a painted piece of polished protection.
A shield is the last resort, a desperate attempt to grip onto life,
Which is but a fragile skein of thread,
that quickly unravels and easily snaps in two.
The bruised heart is not hiding behind this armor.
A poor heart that has suffered at the abuse of the outside world,
Is simply trying to preserve itself from decaying.
If the battered heart is not secured behind its shield,
The deterioration of the muscle begins and the heart slowly fades away
In an revolting and repulsive death,
Unless the world is merciful and a spear is plunged through the heart
before it can succumb to a lethargic and dreadful death.
The heart avoids its fate,
Skirting around pain and skipping away from death.  
Through as the shield of scars becomes lame and worn,
The poor heart begins to wonder,
Would death really be so unfavorable,
If death meant it wouldn't have to live like this anymore?
Jan 2017 · 250
Returns
maxime Jan 2017
Sometimes I wonder if you still think of me
I’d like to think I was important enough for you to remember
But a part of me knows that I was just temporary entertainment
A part of me knows that I was but a pest
You let live a while longer than the rest
So you have moved on with your life,
You’ve probably found a new toy to entertain you by now,
And I am sitting in your dust,
Wondering if you’ll ever come back for me.
Jan 2017 · 619
Playing with Knives
maxime Jan 2017
I watched her play with a knife last night.
It twirled beneath her fingers,
letting the moonlight glint off of the metal devilishly.
It seemed tempting.
Something so elegant couldn't possibly cause such desperate violence.
Something so refined couldn't possibly cause such dreadful wreckage.

I watched her play with a knife last night.
It tapped upon her desk,
creating invisible scars that cut deeper into the wood each week.
It seemed ridiculous.
She could simply put down the knife and she wouldn't be in pain.
She could simply put down the knife and her scars could heal.

I picked up the knife last night.
It darted between my fingers,
daringly darting and narrowly missing the edges of my skin.
If I slipped, I could be just as scarred as she is.
If I slipped, I could finally feel something other than fear.

Oops.
Jan 2017 · 964
Bird Set Free
maxime Jan 2017
Today, I have become a bird set free.
My wings have spread and I have flown high.
The sun shines warmly on my feathers,
and I smile. A joyful tear comes to the corner of my eye.

I do not know what I left below me,
and I do not care to look back.
All I know is that I left misery for life.
I left before I could permanently crack.
maxime Jan 2017
How long are you going to let your happiness be decided by her actions?
Jan 2017 · 305
Because I Left You
maxime Jan 2017
I sat alone today,
and I felt absolutely free.
The air was crisper,
My shoulders were lighter,
I felt like I could fly.

The weights on my ankles disappeared,
the spring in my step returned.
I haven't felt so alive in months,
and all because I left you.
Jan 2017 · 648
Sand
maxime Jan 2017
Sand slips through the cracks in my hands
As a struggle to keep it close.
It always finds a way to go,
No matter how tight I hold.
My grip must be weak,
Or maybe it’s betraying me.
Because a better part of me knows
The sand will always slip away.
Dec 2016 · 338
Lungs
maxime Dec 2016
I like my lungs to burn,
While your arm’s around my waist.
The sweetest touch lessens the burn
Of such an acrid taste.
Dec 2016 · 891
My Grandmother's Old Clock
maxime Dec 2016
I watch the pendulum swing on my Grandmother’s old clock.
It’s three hours and twenty minutes off, and she can never fix it.
She keeps it anyways.

When I was little I used to sit in front of it
And sing along when each hour hit
Three hours and twenty minutes off.

The old clock used to wake me up at night
And I’d climb down off the top bunk
To check that it was three hours and twenty minutes off.

Now the clock is shoved in a corner,
Old and forgotten,
But still three hours and twenty minutes off.

My Grandmother’s new husband fixed the old clock.
He did what my Grandmother could never do.
The old clock is no longer three hours and twenty minutes off.
It will never be again.
Dec 2016 · 219
note 6
maxime Dec 2016
i want to tell you how much I love you, but i choke on my affections every time
Dec 2016 · 902
bricks
maxime Dec 2016
bricks upon bricks pile up
pinning her down against the cold ground
she's trapped between burdens and hell

once she could make a wall
bricks arranged anxiously in a barrier of protection.
the wall was too heavy. the wall fell.

now the bricks are thrown on a heap
carelessly tossed upon a death bed
weighing to much to ever have hope of life again
Not my best. I'm a bit of a mess. Sorry.
Dec 2016 · 736
What I Wish I Could Say
maxime Dec 2016
"You're so annoying."
I love that you stay to bother me.
"You're stupid."
You can do so much better than that.
"You're an *******."
Thank you for always speaking your mind to me.
"Please stop being nice."
I really don't deserve your love.
"Shut up."
I just want to enjoy being with you.
"I didn't even think of you."
I missed you more than I can even say.
"I hate you."
*I love you more than I can put into words.
Dec 2016 · 1.8k
Deer and Hunter
maxime Dec 2016
Deer leap clear across the field
Elegant and graceful,
Beautiful and limber.
The beauty of the open grass,
the feeling of freedom,
outweighs the threat of danger.

The hunter stalks his prey,
hidden by the the grasses.
The very grass that lures the deer to freedom,
also leads the deer to it's death.
The hunter is filled with power,
arrogance filling the hole virtues left.

He takes his aim.
He shoots.

The once limber deer is dead.
Dec 2016 · 229
notes 5
maxime Dec 2016
i will scream until i have no voice, even if i have no chance of anyone listening
Dec 2016 · 591
Rise
maxime Dec 2016
I rise from ashes.
I am not washed away by rain,
or carried away in gusts of wind.
I am renewed. I reform. I rise.
And by God, you should be terrified.

Every time I rise again I am stronger.
Behead me and I'll be born with double the power.
Your fear of me only fuels my fire.
And each time the ability to end you becomes stronger.
Each time I rise, I know more, can be more.
Dec 2016 · 1.5k
Bermuda Triangle Pt. 1
maxime Dec 2016
Don't Test Us*

Turn around and run,
Your too far out of your league.
Why you insist on fighting us,
Is a matter of intrigue.

Do you believe you're brave?
Or are you ignoring your own timidity?
Do you believe you're courageous?
Or are you convinced by your stupidity?
I'm going to be taking lines from Bermuda Triangle by ZICO (feat. DEAN and Crush) and writing whatever the line inspires. Their content won't be related but they're all from the same song so that makes them connected...right?
Dec 2016 · 688
A Poet
maxime Dec 2016
Being a poet is writing down words that you're too afraid to ever say aloud.
Dec 2016 · 202
Music
maxime Dec 2016
Music is white noise
Destroying my eardrums
Muffling the screeches around me
Drowning out my own sobs
The louder the music,
the number I feel
Yet the pounding bass
Is the only thing I can sense
Nov 2016 · 200
note 5
maxime Nov 2016
i miss drinking your poison, though i know it kills me
Nov 2016 · 401
Small Bug
maxime Nov 2016
A little bug sneaks past the window
Completely unseen and completely unheard.
A bug so small can barely be detected,
a bug so tiny it will never be noticed.

But the bug lands on a flower,
which was previously undisturbed.
A beautiful flower it is -
Colours brilliant and bright.

The flower seems unharmed,
facing towards the shining sun.
Little does it know,
it's own death has begun.

The small bug leaves -
Flies away with the blink of an eye.
The Flower faces down now,
Pretending not to cry.
When will you get out of my life.
Nov 2016 · 260
untitled 4
maxime Nov 2016
Do you think she will leave me?* the Owlet questioned.

Everyone moves on to the next best thing the Wind replied.
Nov 2016 · 1.3k
Golden Boy
maxime Nov 2016
Golden Boy, dear Golden Boy
You don't know how lucky you are
Everybody loves you
Here, near, and Far.

Your mother wears a proud smile,
when she looks upon you.
But when she looks upon me,
I see nothing but rue.

A star athlete, a star body,
always healing from injury.
I am left sore in bed,
wallowing in my own misery.

A Golden Boy loves a Golden Girl,
Hand in hand as they breeze through life,
I sit and wish I could be you,
Though you're oblivious to my strife.

Golden Boy, dead Golden Boy,
Won't you come teach me?
Pick me up. Glue me together.
Teach me what I could be.
Nov 2016 · 297
Spiraling
maxime Nov 2016
They call it a descent. A spiral. A fall.
As if you have failed over and over
Feeling new emotions with each new failure.
The truth is, it's the same every **** time.
The same nightmare.
The same uncontrollable shaking.
The familiar feeling of bile rising.
The familiar ache to be grounded.
And you can't help but give in.
The old blade is dug out,
Though you thought it was long forgotten.
The pain is sweet.
It seems to bring you down,
Bring you back to an Earth you hate
But are too afraid to leave.
The same events repeat.
The next night, the next week, the next month.
And the only difference between each one
Is that you hate yourself just a bit more
For spiraling once again.
Nov 2016 · 253
Lost
maxime Nov 2016
The sirens blare and the lights are flashing
People run in panic, searching for a safe place
Fenced fly up around the perimeter
Doors are padlocked and baricadded
Adrenaline and Fear force everyone to flee
The safe space is lost, invaded, conquered.
As people look back over their shoulders,
Weary already from their journey ahead,
They yearn for all that they lost
And hope that they shall find it once more
Nov 2016 · 1.4k
Most Precious Possession
maxime Nov 2016
How dare you push aside your most precious possession?
Do you not understand its value?
Its rarity? Its unique and original gifts to you?

It's perfectly clear that you don't understant.
What you hold in your hands is a treasure,
A treasure that is not commonly found,
And once lost, a it's impossible to find again.

Yet you treat this treasure like an afterthought to fools gold.
You treat this treasure as a stepping stone to something better,
When I think you know that there truly isn't anything more valuable than what you already have.


Take time, heed these words.
Youve come close to losing this precious possession once before,
And there is no way you'll regain it should you come close once more.
So tread carefully.

Best not lose the best blessing that you have ever received.
Some people don't know how lucky they are.
Nov 2016 · 176
note 4
maxime Nov 2016
i listen to the same album on repeat, hoping it will make me feel like i used to
Nov 2016 · 202
drowning
maxime Nov 2016
i'm drowning slowly
it's gradual, leisurely
i don't even notice it
until my head has slipped
under the waves

the surf is cold
leaving my skin prickled
and cold to the touch
i would call out
if i knew anyone would hear

but Anyone is too far away
they're busy with life
something i couldn't breathe in
i can see them living
although they're blurred by the water

i know that here is where i am
i know that here is where i will be
i suffocate in life
so underwater, unseen and unheard
is where i belong
This is actually inspired by a poem I wrote quite a while ago that I have long since lost except in fragments in my mind.
Nov 2016 · 748
puzzle pieces
maxime Nov 2016
puzzle pieces fit together perfectly
or so they should
sometimes the pieces are laid out perfectly
each delicately handled with care and slid together easily
sometimes the pieces are scattered haphazardly
thrown aside and yanked back and forced to fit together
each method creates a picture
beautiful and original, yet grotesque and obsolete
if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, who is to say which is which?
sometimes the puzzles that are aligned perfectly are disappointing
they are drab, dull, ordinary
and sometimes the puzzles that are forced together are enticing
they are alluring, captivating, enchanting
so next time chose to force a two pieces together
surely you'll find something new that's better than before
Nov 2016 · 205
someday
maxime Nov 2016
darling, i can see the pain in your eyes.
you cannot even force a full laugh.
it's empty and cold, half-hearted and broken.
you tell me that you're fine,
when you and I both know you're far from a safe place.

i know that you lied when you say you're okay,
then your text notification wakes me up in the dead of night.
i know that you lied when you say everything is fine,
then i can't find you because you ran away once again.
you're not fine. you won't be for a long time.

but darling, i know you'll get there.
i know that someday you'll truly smile again.
i know you'll never forget her.
and i hope that you'll never forget me either
because we're the two that destroyed and rebuilt you.

someday is a day that you cannot even imagine.
it's foreign and lost in your panicked and damaged mind.
but i'm here to prove that someday truly does exist.
i'm here to guide you along a path to meet me here too.
i will never abandon you, no matter how evil you think you are.
because i love you. whether your someday is near or far.
pretty much all of my poems are in lapslock and i'm not even sorry about it
Nov 2016 · 352
insecurity
maxime Nov 2016
shooting terror
bubum
paralyzing fear
bubum
immediate regret
BUBUM
rejection
beep
mocking
beep
scorn
*beeeeeeeeeeeeep
Nov 2016 · 904
muffled
maxime Nov 2016
my fingertips are numb
filled with feathers that ferry no feeling
i press, i ****, i reach out for more
i know my fingers are there
they're simply just numb

my ear drums are throbbing
silence smothers them in a suffocating stillness
i strain, i scream, i yearn for a sound
i know my ears are viable
they're simply just unsound
I've been feeling scared to publish poems likely. I'm not really sure why.
Nov 2016 · 737
Toy
maxime Nov 2016
Toy
Toy: a thing or matter of no value or importance
Doll, plaything, trinket
Handled, moved, manipulated;
Exploited, fondled, groped

These words should send a chill down every girl's spine
They should raise the hair on their arms,
Make them look over their shoulder one extra time when they go outside
Replace a few hours of sleep with nightmares of terror.

Because here, you are nothing more than a toy.
You are not human with hope, dreams, and aspirations.
You cannot conduct yourself with dignity, maturity, and respect.
You are nothing but a body, here to be a toy.

Remember that, as a woman, your safety is worth nothing.
Remember that a ******'s fear for his safety is more concerning that a 15 year old girl's.
Remember that your dignity, your self worth, your self respect, your entire identity
Isn't worth more than a couple months in county jail to a man.

A woman’s ability to create life is not even her own.
It is something that is debated between men a thousand miles away.
It is something that is controlled by the hand of a man.
The most basic right and role of a woman is stripped from them.

To a man you an object.
There is no difference between you and the doormat into a man's house.
You are thrown on the ground, covered in pine needles, and walked all over.
No difference.

A woman’s concerns can be dismissed because this is just “locker room banter”
You are used as a ploy to further a man’s political presence.
This is a part of our daily lives now.
Get used to it.

We will no longer teach our children to stay away from drugs and be safe around wild animals
We will teach our daughters to fear a beard instead of the click of a gun.
We will teach them to be afraid of their fathers and their brothers, simply for their own safety.

They will be forced to cover themselves.
Hide their joyful smiles. Cover graceful legs. Mask skillful hands.
Because otherwise, they will be blamed for their maltreatment, told that they asked for it.
They still might be, because, remember, a woman’s word means nothing.

Toy: a thing or matter of no value or importance.
Doll, plaything, trinket.
Handled, moved, manipulated.
Exploited, fondled, groped.

I am a woman. I am no more than a toy.
A spoken word poem I had to write for a class. I decided to share.
Oct 2016 · 189
note 3
maxime Oct 2016
i'm just counting down the days until my body stops breathing
Oct 2016 · 2.6k
press restart
maxime Oct 2016
press restart
simple enough
a new beginning
a brand new experience
but really, it's not all that different

press restart
for the nth time
again and again
another attempt
how many will there be?

press restart
and wonder now
how long it will be
until restart is pressed again
and it doesn't work

press restart
everything i write is **** so i've decided to just give up and publish whatever the hell i want. better than doing something else that's stupid
Oct 2016 · 224
note 2
maxime Oct 2016
i am so full of fear and self loathing that i can't even see clearly enough to find an escape
Oct 2016 · 190
note 1
maxime Oct 2016
i would rather die than have to face the life i am living right now
Oct 2016 · 352
untitled 3
maxime Oct 2016
I don't know if I recognize the person in the mirror anymore.* the Owlet admitted.

Doesn't matter. said the Night **You're worthless no matter who you are
Oct 2016 · 268
untitled 2
maxime Oct 2016
I hope to finally meet the sky one day* the Owlet admitted.

You shoot too high the Night laughed. **You'll only fall, never fly
Oct 2016 · 268
untitled 1
maxime Oct 2016
Does she still think about me?* asked the Owlet.

I don't think she cared about you enough for you to remain in their thoughts replied the Wind.
apparently I'm starting a little snippets series
Oct 2016 · 340
A Letter to the Fledgling
maxime Oct 2016
"Stop playing with me," the Fledgling begged.
I sat there and wondered for who she had me pegged.
My hands were clean; I had done no wrong.
You blame a poor Dove, and you forget that I am strong.

For must I remind you that a Dove is white, not red.
You'd best remember, before you end up dead.
Poor flamingos can only balance so much.
At this point I could knock you down with a single touch.

You forget, dear Fledgling, that I am the student that beat the teacher.
She was the reigning champion, said no one else could beat her.
You want to play a game?
You'd best pull out now, or you'll be put to shame.

Your passive aggressive glare?
I honestly couldn't care.
Your fake cries of a martyr?
Fledgling, I am not the archer.

Continue frolicking with tears streaming from your eyes.
I won't even notice all your other petty tries.
Keep thinking that you own me, a poor Dove brought you down.
Fledgling, I'm no fowl here.

*I wear the crown.
an old poem but somehow still relevant
Oct 2016 · 405
Victim? I Think Not.
maxime Oct 2016
Paint yourself with sores and wounds
Broken bones and a broken soul
Allow yourself to wallow in self pity, self loathing
You deserve it

I truly believe that you are the worst kind of person
Apathy is all you deserve
You used another person as a toy for your own pleasure
I feel no empathy when you are terrified by the horrors you've created

Your eyes have finally been opened
Watering as they are bombarded with smoke and flames
The destruction you have caused, created, entertained yourself with?
It's permanent. You cannot fix this. It's done.

Don't crying poor victim,
When both you and I know you're not.
Leave her alone to she can find her smile again.
Try to fix yourself before you go fixing someone else.
venting session
Oct 2016 · 543
Illusion
maxime Oct 2016
Fear me.
Honest to God, you should fear me.
Because you are the only thing I know how to hate.

Someone once told me that I had a heart of gold,
That someday it would ***** me over,
Despite it being my best quality.

I can empathize with the greatest villains in the world.
I can find our commonality in our humanness.
I can see the small slivers of goodness in them.

I find none in you.

You are the worst type of monster.
I cannot even fathom having that type of evil living inside of me.
I see nothing but darkness in you,

You think I'm scared of you?
I can't even begin to try and contain my laughter.
You cannot hurt someone immune like me.

But, sure, if it makes you feel better,
Believe that you have "hurt" me.
Believe that you have some sort of power or victory.

But remember this.
When you have to turn and run, and I am able to stride on by,
Your illusion will be shattered.
Oct 2016 · 755
little game
maxime Oct 2016
little people with big mouths and shriveled hearts
filled with excuses and pardons beneficial to themselves
pretending that the little game is just that: a game

forgetting about feelings and filled with fallacies
pieces are placed in their perfect position
strung along like stupid, sorrowful simpletons

experience is not something that can be fooled
anger is not something to be played with
apathy is something to fear

love is  patient and kind
love is also obstinate and persistent
it will not be misused or mistreated

true love is not an elementary concept
small minds simply cannot understand
naturally cling to games that only give empty satisfaction
Oct 2016 · 932
Perfectionist
maxime Oct 2016
Unsatisfied
Left empty, void, hollow.
It's unsettling.
It's nerve wracking, unable to follow.

No matter what you try to make it fit
Nothing is perfect, nothing is right
Nothing is working and it's all simply ****
It's ****, it's ****, it's ****.

I struggle and I fight.
I scream and cry and groan and whine.
People tell it's not a problem;
That it's really absolutely fine.

Both you and I know that it;s not
and it never will be
because it's not going to be perfect
And I don't think it ever will be.
Oct 2016 · 896
A Swing (Revised)
maxime Oct 2016
A girl kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
unable to coordinate her young body to move forward.
Her small hands are wrapped around the chain links,
holding her high so she can only touch her toes to the ground.
Her stomach hurts and she frowns.
It always hurts when she tries to play, so she stopped trying.

A teen kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
not having the energy to move herself forward.
Her bitten fingernails pick at the ridges of the chain links,
holding her now that she is far too exhausted to do so on her own.
Her whole body hurts and she can't even frown.
It always hurts when she tries to breathe, so she stopped trying.

A woman kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
too sleep-deprived to move her body with enthusiasm.
Her hands that have written millions of words wrap loosely around the chain links, gripping on for the sake of formalities and tradition.
Her body doesn’t hurt anymore and she never has any expression.
It always hurts when she felt sympathy, so she stopped trying.

A mother walks up to a swing,
allowing her own child to tug her towards it.
Her actions are careful as she pushes her precious cargo,
cradling it yet letting it roam far enough to find happiness.
Her whole body feels light and she can't stop smiling.
It always was a struggle to keep going, but she never stopped trying.

A old woman is pushed to a swing in her wheelchair,
Her daughter urging her forward as her granddaughter skipped beside them.
Her hands rest lightly and carelessly on the armrests of her chair,
Relaxed and gentle as she teaches the next girl about her battles.
Her whole body feels rewarded and she always wears a small smile.
She never thought she would, but she succeeded.
Oct 2016 · 1.3k
A Swing
maxime Oct 2016
A girl kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
unable to coordinate her young body to move forward.
Her small hands are wrapped around the chain links,
holding her high so she can only touch her toes to the ground.
Her stomach hurts and she frowns.
It always hurts when she tries to play, so she stopped trying.

A teen kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
not having the energy to move herself forward.
Her bitten fingernails pick a the ridges of the chain links,
holding her now that she is far to exhausted to do so on her own.
Her whole body hurts and she can't even frown.
It always hurts when she tries to breathe, so she stopped trying.

A woman walks up to a swing,
allowing her own child to tug her towards it.
Her actions are careful as she pushes her precious cargo,
cradling it yet letting it roam far enough to find happiness.
Her whole body feels light and she can't stop smiling.
It always was a struggle to keep going, but she never stopped trying.
I will be the woman someday.
Oct 2016 · 880
restless
maxime Oct 2016
fidget change move
i'm honestly interested, i swear
change move fidget
i'm not trying to interrupt, i'm sorry
move fidget change
i don't understand, i'm trying
fidget move change
i can't sit still, i'm restless
change fidget move
i want to learn, i'm doing my best
move change fidget*
i need to do something, i'm going crazy
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