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marion Mar 19
i filled my notebooks with your words,
my canvases with your spirit

you're in my soul, my heart, my being
you eternally inspire me.

you may be gone,
but i still have you.
marion Jan 2
love,
a funny thing
so uncertain
yet so promising

your gift
is but a paperweight
atop a dresser

meant as a promise:
you wouldn't make
the same mistake
again

another chance,
a retake.

yet it sits,
meaningless

pearls won't fix
how my heart aches

your love
was never really there

was it.
one of the best ways to heal is to write about it and move on.
marion Aug 2018
a word that is applied to all,
holds no true value with its use.
it is only overused.
marion Mar 2018
I keep my feelings on a leash,
locked in a cage like the perpetrators of crime.
Sometimes I take them out for walks
to test out their rarely used legs on the ground.
Only too reel them back in,
too scared to let them wander,
wander towards those who let theirs loose freely,
not caring where they step.
For I have learned that this only leads to hurt.
Stubbed toes on the curbsides called love.
Failed attempts at crossing the crosswalk,
into the depths of someones shallow, unforgiving arms.
Not paying attention to the Stop sign right next to them.
Over and over, I wish I would've noticed that sign sooner..
Before all the heartbreaks and fallen tears.
And that is why
the footwork of my heart, kept captive in the dark,
is sleeping in silence for perhaps eternity
this is the poem I used to apply for this community. not my best work, but still, I thought I should share.

— The End —