Miranda Marie Mayer: Favorites

Apr 2015 Miranda Marie Mayer

Alexis Mayer

I tried
to run my hands
through my hair
realizing I’d never
get to be anyone else.

Every tangle I catch
is another
stretch of road
I won’t see,
every knot
is the buzz of
bees in my gut
when I think
of what I don’t
know.

My biggest
regret
is I will never see
my past selves.
The lives I
lived before this one.
The people
I met, and
the things I saw.
The words I spoke
and the experiences I had.

My life
hasn’t been lackluster,
I’ve seen enough,
but not a lot.
I dream about courage,
and what
it would feel like
to stand
in a different place.

I know Nebraska
well enough to know
that it doesn’t love me back.
My feet
are arched,
they deserve more
than this
flat
land.

I love this state,
it seems that
we are in the middle
of everything
but
it flat lines
into oblivion
and I want to be a tick,
I want to be a pulse,
I want to feel.

So forgive me when
I say that
I need more
than this place
sometimes,
I need more
than this life
sometimes
I need more
than myself
sometimes.

Right now
I’d fall down
a flight of stairs
if it means
I'll have a story
to tell later.

I do my best
to punch the sky
I envy it
for continuing
to see more than I can.

My hands
are getting caught
in my hair,
and maybe I just need
someone else’s for awhile.

Jun 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

About my Grandma Theresa A. Zadina

Jun 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

Kayla Anne Fowler

About my Grandma Theresa A. Zadina

I’ll miss the polka music echoing through your home.

your little chair, whittled down and faded through the daily routine.

Prayer cards scattered about your pills and telephone.

You’d roll your eyes at Grandpa’s jokes.

You always wore pink shirts with flower designs.

I’d catch you smiling at me in unexpected moments.

Everything I wore was pretty in your eyes.

You’d tell me to bundle up and call you often.

You never failed to be silly with me.

I went to your house Grandma, and your chair was there,

everything in place but it felt so wrong.

My beautiful guardian and Grandma, I’ll love you forever in all walks of my life.

Stay by my side, I’ll see you soon.

-Your Granddaughter

Apr 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

14 cigarettes this time, still one dad

Apr 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

Olivia Greene

14 cigarettes this time, still one dad

Happy birthday, Dad.
You're …. 54, 55, 56?
I think I'm still jealous that you get to share your birthday with the earth.
I think I'm still a little sad that I never asked you if you enjoyed that.
I don't know why I am talking about you like you're gone; when you're only 17 steps down the stairs in your arm chair with the news on your lap and a glass of indonesian tea on your  left.
I walked by you and you were standing there and I almost hugged you.
Almost.
You were proud that I listened to Etta James.
That made me beam but I didn't let you see it.
So many people take my light from me.
I think the only place that I can go to rekindle that light,
is the notion that maybe one day you won't be disappointed in me.
Or my lack of ability and motivation  in school.
Or my lack participation in this family.
Or the notion that I won't be scared of you, scared of everything anymore.
Scared of loving people and then putting too much of myself into that person because I don't know how to love properly.
I didn't even know how to breath properly.
I had to go to a doctor and they had to tell me to take deeper breaths because I wasn't getting enough air.
Ever.
My breaths were shallow, and guarded, and hesitant.
I have invested hope in the day I won't exercise for an hour and a half every day for a week straight until my body  can no longer function properly.
That I won't take a long shower, with water too hot and knees pulled up to my heaving chest.
Or maybe I won't drink too much and try to feel something with someone.
Or even stop tanning because I am literally burning from the inside out.
Maybe that way people will see how I truly feel on the inside.
Burnt out.
Tired, fatigued. Unworthy.

Mar 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

Metaphorical Fabric-To Every Girl That Hates Herself

Mar 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

Alexis Mayer

Metaphorical Fabric-To Every Girl That Hates Herself

I will tell you this now,
you
are not silk.
There is nothing soft
about you.
I know
how
badly
we all want to be satin
but it isn’t in our
blood.
We come from stronger
crop.
Be grateful
for that.

I will tell you this now
satin is easy to cut
and silk is easy
to tear.
No one should be okay
with ruining themselves.

You are canvas,
and I will be frank
it isn’t always easy
to look at.
I want you to remember
that in the right hands
canvas is beautiful.
Even in the wrong
hands
it remains tough.

I want to
scream
nothing but
love at girls
who’ve hated
themselves for years.
I would wipe away
their anxiety
and replace it
with kind words
and their favorite
song.

I will ask them
to tell me
about the first person
they remember.
I hope it
was a kind face.
I hope one day
I will be that
kind face.

They will never be silk
or satin.
They are suited for much more
than softness.
They will fall into the right
hands
and I will tell them
they have always been beautiful.

Feb 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

February Heart

Feb 2014 Miranda Marie Mayer

Caytlin Rae

February Heart

February,
It’s been a year.
I wait, but why,
You’re still not here.
I knew you once,
But never again,
So please, take me back
To the way things were then.

February,
Seasons change.
Things are different,
We rearrange.
You’re not the same now
As I believed you to be,
Please, become yourself again,
Because you’re getting hard to see…

February,
You’re so cold.
My heart is frozen
Without you to hold.
I remember the way
Your lips felt against mine,
The day that you asked me
To be your valentine…

February,
Where have you run?
It seems it was over
Before it ever begun…
You’ve been out of sight,
And I’ve been out of mind.
I guess you’re too lost
For me to ever find.

February,
Sorry can’t repair,
The damage that is done here
The scratches, cuts, and tears.
As much as I want to,
I can’t apologize,
For things that have happened,
You’re the one who told the lies.

February
I guess that’s it, then,
No matter what I say,
You won’t come back again.
I guess our worlds
Lie too far apart,
But know that you are always
A piece of my February Heart.