Miranda Marie Mayer

Miranda Marie Mayer Jan 2013

Please** let it in,
the light.
It illuminates you.
It ignites you.
It will always be there,
to accept you,
when it's time to come home.

Miranda Marie Mayer Jan 2013

Untitled

People come and people go,
Love is the only remainder.

Miranda Marie Mayer Dec 2012

No Longer a Record

So I got this record player for Christmas.
It’s nothing new, I’ve had one before.
I took it up to my room,
Put the record on it
Then placed the needle down.
I stared at it.
Watching it go around
Mesmerized.
Suddenly,
this feeling of fear came over me.
It’s hard to explain.
I was raised Catholic,
to believe in God.
And Jesus
And the saints
And it goes on and on forever and ever
Amen.
Right?
In this one second of staring at the record player
I had a strong urge to stop it,
before it could reach the end.
Afraid of what might happen,
not to the record.
It all of a sudden was no long about this record.
It was about me.
Struggling,
with what I’ve been taught.
God?
God?
I call his name but he isn’t there,
he’s not responding.
I’m spinning around.
Just like the record.
No sense of direction.
Not knowing where to go,
not knowing what’s going to happen,
when it’s all over with.
This life.
What happens if what I thought
isn’t true?
I don’t know
I just pray to this voiceless God,
that I've been told to believe in,
that I want to believe in,
that the record doesn’t stop.
Because I'm too afraid to find out what happens,
when it does.

Miranda Marie Mayer Dec 2012

"You Only Live Once"

You only live once.
You only live once.
You only live once.
I hear it every ******* day.
As if it’s something that I need to be reminded of.
I hear it so often that at this point I wonder,
if it means what it used to.
You only live once.
It’s a scary phrase to me.
I dislike hearing it.
It’s this constant reminder that this life is limited.
It’s a constant reminder that this life is fragile.
It’s a constant reminder that I don’t get do overs.
It’s a constant reminder that I won’t get the chance to do everything I need to
It’s not enough time to break,
it’s not enough to heal.
It’s not enough time to inhale
It’s not enough time to exhale.
It’s not enough time to talk.
It’s not enough time to walk.
It’s not enough time to listen.
It’s not enough time to understand.
It’s not enough time to meet.
It’s not enough time to befriend.
It’s not enough time to start.
It’s not enough time to finish.
It’s not enough time to help.
It’s not enough time to be helped.
It’s not enough time to be sad.
It’s not enough to be happy.
It’s not enough time to paint.
It’s not enough time to write this poem.
It’s not enough time to love.
It’s not enough time to be loved.
It’s not enough time.
I don’t know,
maybe it’s just me,
writing this poem at 1:30 in the morning.
Stewing on the fact that this life it too short,
to accomplish anything.
Every night I struggle to sleep with the thoughts of the upcoming day’s events.
With the thoughts of that past day’s events.
I’m kept up at night distracting myself from all the mistakes I’ve made.
All the words I never said.
All the opportunities I didn’t take.
All the times I didn’t "only live once".
I sit here realizing this cliché doesn’t apply to me at this point in the night,
or rather the morning.
I’m realizing all the times I’m kept up like this,
I’m not living,
I’m forgetting how to.

Miranda Marie Mayer Dec 2012

VHS Tape

Do you remember those old VHS tapes?
The predecessor to dvds,
which were the predecessor to blu rays,
and it goes on and on.
Anyways back to the VHS tapes,
I don’t know I’ve always loved them.
I know it’s weird
They were such a hassle
You’d have to stick it in the VCR,
rewind it,
fast forward it,
so on and so forth.
DVD’s are so much easier
Yet I’ve always loved the VHS tapes.
Maybe it’s because they remind me of my childhood.
Or because they contain the finest films to ever grace the silver screen.
Or it might even be because,
no matter how long ago I last watched them,
they ALWAYS pick up right where I left off.
I think that’s beautiful.
The Mary Kate and Ashley and Rugrat VHS tapes,
sitting in my basement haven’t been placed in that VCR for years,
but it’s comforting to know that someday
when I’m feeling nostalgic enough
to watch one of them,
once it enters that VCR,
it will be in the EXACT spot I left it 6 years ago
when I watched it last.
It would be amazing if life were like those VHS tapes.
All the people you haven’t seen in years,
are just waiting there for you to arrive again,
just to pick up right where you left off.
No need to rewind or fast forward.
It’s not quite that easy though.
There are people in this life,
that I know are just like those tapes.
I may not have seen them for months,
but once I do it’s a straight shot back to where we were.
Then there are people like DVDs who don’t wait,
they don’t stay just where you want them to,
they keep moving and moving,
until one day you’re not sure where they’ve gone.
So you have no other choice then to restart,
and find someone new.
I know that there are people in this life,
just like the people in the films
on those VHS tapes.
There are people in this life that see the loveliness of it all
They understand the beautiful gift they’ve been given each day
They know that people are sacred,
living,
breathing,
feeling,
beings.
And then there are people like me,
who look at life with confusion,
and concern,
and wonder everyday,
what the hell is going on.
Who know that life isn’t like that VHS tape,
but wish more than anything that it was

— The End —