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maybe marc Jan 2019
--
you can't see it but s is for ****
for being this way
for betraying myself
for wanting it all
for not saying what i've been meaning to say for ever
couldn't even whisper it against your skin.
dec 2 2018
maybe marc Aug 2018
ya me confundi contigo
me fundi conmigo
claramente no nos entendimo.
y ahora queri ser mi amigo?
no se loco yo no quiero mas lio
aunque me gusta tu piel de abrigo,
no nos relacionemos en el frio
que se me confunden los hilos
tampoco en el verano,
ya fue,
no me esperí,
no se pa que ta hablé
maybe marc Feb 2018
eres un respiro;
un claro en medio del bosque.
se pide perdón con la lengua
sin siquiera decirlo.
akí hay aktivismo a golpes,
una gotita de sangre calentándote la cara con su caída.
en los ríos la calma que da balance a la violencia
en la lluvia una oportunidad para empezar de nuevo.
se respiran flores amarillas y moras
dejándote un gustito dulce en la garganta;
con ganas de un día más acá.
las hojas bailan como bailé yo la noche de ayer
sin ningún esfuerzo
dejándose llevar por el ritmo de la brisa.
caminar por tus calles una confusión conocida,
perderme en tí es lo más lindo.
quiero una conversación eterna contigo,
ver como das vuelta todo lo que pensé que eras;
que escuches mis penas pisando tus caminos,
que me limpies el corazón con una botella de vino
y los actos amables que se esconden en tus esquinas,
detrás de las cortinas de tus casas de hojalata.
maybe marc Dec 2016
but i have eighteen,
one is that i've found more comfort in these clothes than in my own body because i can't stand my bones,
two is that my heart is so heavy with all the weight i've had to carry for all of us,
three is that my mouth is sewn shut when it comes to speaking my mind about you and her,
four is that all i hear from you are complaints,
five is that i only complain too,
six is that i feel so stuck here,
seven is that i have no money for cigarettes,
eight is my lack of motivation,
nine is my obsession with burning myself out until there's no wax left in this candle,
ten is this ******* loneliness,
eleven is a *** drive that makes me want to be abused,
twelve is this voice that belongs to me three years ago,
thirteen is the fact that i won't have skin left by the time i'm twenty nine because i keep carving ink into myself,
fourteen is my anxiety, i can't even stand up for myself,
fifteen is the lies i keep telling everyone when i say i know what i'm doing,
sixteen is when i pretend that my friends are real,
seventeen is that i don't think i'm going to graduate,
eighteen is that i really have more than eighteen problems and they all keep me awake at night and they keep from reading those books that have been unfinished on my shelf for months now.

you say i have a problem,
but i know that.
i don't need you to remind me,
not when i find a minute to forget about them.
maybe marc Nov 2016
if you asked me to
i'd burn myself alive
and not because i'm in love with you
i'm not -i think-
but i do love you,
without hidden motives.

there's no reason behind it
for you
i'd listen to silence for months
and i'd starve myself for years.

i've never questioned you
and i never will

but the only thing i ask of you
is to let me know,
not even the whys
just the i can'ts

i just wish you'd let me know
if you aren't coming over.
maybe marc Nov 2016
sometimes i forget that i exist
i wake up without knowing what time it is
but it's fine because i've forgotten that pain is a thing
that last night i could've cried
because i missed being able to say out loud how i felt for you
but also because i was having the millionth existential crisis of the week.

sometimes i just
i forget that i exist
it's like when you're sleeping but not really dreaming
but you're conscious of the nothingness that has become for just a second,
everything.

and for some reason
i've never talked to a person that understands what that nothing is,

but

sometimes,
i forget that they don't exist where i do
because if i don't exist then there's nothing and that means that
they don't exist

but me,
i forget that i exist.
how can i forget that i am alive?
it's like i can feel my body,
but i can feel the space between my fingers
no matter how tight i hold my hands together.

sometimes
i worry
because i forget that i am here
i forget that i am a living being
i forget that i am skin and bones
and memories
and connections with other people
and i am pain and sorrow and tears and light.

sometimes
i want to forget that i am here
i want to forget that i exist.
sometimes it's easier to imagine
not existing.

but sometimes,
when i forget that i exist-

i've never wanted to exist
but sometimes,

i realize i do.
i am here.
and if i am here
then so are you.
i'm so tired of people being ignored and killed and painted wrongfully. i'm tired of war and hate and hate and hate being released in all of the ******* wrong ways. i am tired of bullets and blood and self induced pain and shaving my head to protect myself. i am tired of you being better than her and him being better than me and you being all there ******* is. there is no we if there can be a they. i am so tired. i can't find words to express how much i want everyone to ******* stop being alive because we are evil and we are horrible to each other and we don't deserve this sky and these dogs and the water and autumn and words. we don't deserve any of this, if we can't handle love and hate with two hands and a heart open to understanding that these are both powerful emotions that can get out of control.
maybe marc Sep 2016
she likes me
he told me they feel things in her heart.

i haven't told them that i lied.
i told her i hadn't thought about it
i told him i didn't know i liked them
but i knew.

she understands
and he listens
and they are so ******* important.

she's someone i could fall in love with,
i could be comfortable with him.

if i had the guts
i would've told them the truth
i would tell him
i would hold her.
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