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Merrimae Nov 2017
i Run.
it's what i do
not a hobby, nor a pleasure

the monster is not under my bed, or in my head.
it is in my heart, all too deep
She chases me around, eradicating sleep

radiating fear, devotion, yearning
for attention
for water to grow

Yet I Run.

No More.

I will face the monster
Head to head, she will lose
But not in a vicious brawl.

For She is not a monster at all.
Merely a sheep i mentally imaged in wolf's clothing

I will show Her compassion
and accept Her gifts into my heart

Nerve-racking may it be
i will stay
forever and always

She is Love.
I will give her to You
and You to Me.
Merrimae Nov 2017
Snowflakes.
Embrace me in your Chill
Consume me in your Hate.
Eat me alive, if you will
i'd love more to appreciate

your thoughts, motives,
the reasons you do
the things that Define you
as a
Snowflake.

BUT! Do you really think?
do you have a motive deeper than your skin,
in your heart?

Do you have one? A Heart?
Your actions, criticisms.
Your painful jabs at those you view inferior
are merely a reflection of your

Inner Turmoil.
Because who you really Hate
is You.

The ones you claim weaker than yourself
are mirrors at which you stare at
for Too long
hoping to see a change

However, change can only be made by melting
away your Insecurities and
finding new ways to be
Beautiful

Melt, Snowflake.
Melt away and let the dirt that
has turned your icy elegance
into muddy gore.
A snowflake is an unique person who is different than others. In this case, negatively.
  Feb 2017 Merrimae
Mikaila
I am not old, yet.

My skin is not powdery and white, see-through like a paper lantern.

But there is a part of me which

When I dare to reach for someone I love

Reaches with brittle ***** fingers, soft and cold and fluttering like white moths

That edge closer to a flame until they catch.

There is a part of me that feels old, and fragile.

And already even in the crest of my youth I’ve cursed this body

For its frailty, its needs.

It suffers and complains, always crying out for something,

Never sated, never still.

I’ve said it feels like living inside a porcelain doll

A look, and cracks can spider out along an arm,

A word and blood can bloom beneath the surface, seeping up into

Bruised pictures and symbols.

I must always be gentle,

I must always be

Watching.

Too passionate, and fissures form, marring the cheek, spreading like shadows thrown by a lace curtain.

I stare out, burning to touch everything,

And yet I pull back:

To dare is to risk, and I’ve seen

Both reward and loss.

I have seen a thousand shining colors spread across me like sunrise,

Warming my skin,

Calling to me like prayer until a bit of light escaped through the spaces between my atoms and reached another person’s palms,

But I have also seen the pale, flat shards of myself,

Sifted through white dust in dismay

For a salvageable portion.

Indeed, there are rooms in this world where sharp edges of me still linger

Waiting in obstructed corners and beneath heavy refrigerators

To gouge a foot or snag a hem,

Interred

In the dark and hollow places where they flew when I shattered and could not gather them all.

I have known

Intimately

My own fragility,

How maddeningly breakable I am

And how difficult to mend.

And there is a part of me now, always,

Which whispers to me when I would be bold,


“You are not old, yet.

But wouldn’t you just love

To live that long?”
*title is a quote from T.S. Eliot's The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock
  Feb 2017 Merrimae
Astor
5pm is such a pretty time if you think about it
Im relatively certain that it's just through my eyes
The church lit up all pretty and white
The sky a softy blue and the twinkle lights in the trees

I felt my legs weighed down by crushing existence
i felt my arms floating up light as hell
exhausted and rejuvenated  
id kiss the sky if im not so certain i would stretch myself too thin
  Jan 2017 Merrimae
Perry Madison
Seasons change and life goes on,
my scenes switch off, times are gone with words
From CT, to New York, to Colorado, the world’s voice I’ve already heard.
But not everyone can see the world’s treasures in their face,
the beauties, people, lights and sounds across this finite space.
Or felt the stars in their souls, that’ll disperse one day
It’s not the case, so please sit down, and listen to what I say:

We’re all too busy honing in on things that shouldn’t stand out
Like why I speak the way I do, with etiquette and class
why I transcend the lines between specific roles
in what I say and how I act

I say:
Why question and judge the little things I do
in my life, which isn’t yours
to the point where you cut off ties and contact that never had been forged
Because your preformed images of a bisexual, black guy
warps your eyes and makes you blind, way that can’t be right, because
across time the blind eyes symbolizes truth
so these illusions in your way, blocking you in sooth,
serve no purpose, see the light and accept the natural proof.

My hair’s not *****, my behavior varies to where
it fits no norms. I’m beyond your views, don’t you see?
It’s the eye of the storm.

I say:
It doesn’t stop at me, no, no. It spreads beyond these walls
and affects those who are different, who break society’s “laws”
Wars and fights over basic things are all I ever hear,
beliefs, gender, color, orientation,
the common fight is fear

Fear to be seen as an abomination  
to break or fall from grace
To stay hidden from their true potential
for their own safety’s sake

I say:
That’s no way to live a life of
chances, hope and purpose
to live in shadows, cold and alone under
a hidden surface

I’m here to say that there’s no shame
in being who you are
to break the norm and stand against those
who dare to change your ways, to those who can’t accept
that life’s about change.

Why do I say such things? Why do I speak?
Why do I stand as one?
Our fate’s o n a string, the strong and meek
we’re all united under one sun.

I say:
We’re all human, how hard is it to understand that we’re the pieces
of one heart, united in a common band.
If we don’t accept this, how far can we go?
Surely we won’t last, but if we rise above this fog,
the human spirit will ever last against whatever
time and space may throw, whatever darkness we may fear.

Open your eyes, your ears, your heart
Because I say this: It all starts here.
Wrote this in High School
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