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maria k May 2019
802 Bun Drive
Bun drive in Woolsbury, Horshire
With its crooked sign dripping with water
A doorbell oiled and glistening with an odd feeling of warmth
As if this was done to hide all the beautiful mess underneath
Like when an eraser hides the mistakes one makes
But these mistakes should be highlighted
for they are a part of one's identity

I knocked once but nothing happened
And I thought he may not be home
Welcome I said to myself
Even without a welcome sign or mat
I just knew welcome was to be imagined in our heads
when a house is so welcoming...
this is an excerpt from my poem story called Mr.Mashoo
maria k May 2019
He asked me on a morning which I didn’t want to see
“Are you well today”
And I say I'm fine
But fine is not definite

What I wanted to say was
I am balancing between two mountains
and today is the day when the ground splits
and crumbles below me

He asked me on a night that I wanted to hide from
“Whats up”
And I thought
Can I pass, ask someone else
sometimes when we say "i'm fine" we don't mean it
maria k May 2019
i refrain from picking people up
i drop them on the ground
and allow them to weaken
in the eyes of my existence
my careless mind that ceases to find
the good in life
but strives to make the
fittest of the fittest thrive
as i abandon those that
plaintively cry
hyper competitiveness...instead help others and become a better person
maria k May 2019
And I look in the mirror and say who am I
I want to be someone
I just don’t know why
Cause I have straight hair
But I want curly
Cause I want strength
And not weakness

And I told my friend
What they want to be
And they said
They want to be like me

So
Short and tall
And big and small
I guess it doesn’t matter at all
Dark and light
Skin and all
Who cares what color we all are
accept others not based off of their beauty
maria k May 2019
when life seems smothered in beauty
such beauty disappears
when laughter pierces the glass of night
it leads to sorrow
when the aroma of pie swirls through the room
a fire waits to consume
seeing the glass half empty may not be the best idea
maria k May 2019
the glass of the world
is cracked
by the shouts and cries
of those oppressed
by the wind of love
that ceases to exist
by the selflessness
that humankind
never did possess
maria k May 2019
My gears have not been oiled for years
They are oiled with
the dry crusty blood that encases my body
Pain is my friend
Yet it is my enemy
For everywhere I look
I see myself in reflection
Everything I touch
is me in return

Numbers
That’s who we are
Who cares about names
Names are too hard to say
Too hard to whisper
Too hard to even process in our minds
For we slowly melt away
Dig a hole in the dirt
And sleep
A long deep sleep
Yet I think
I think of the gateway to come in the future
A gateway that will free me
from my pain

I try to look at the camera
Yet light blinds my sensitive body
I crouch and bend
Light
Too much for me
For I live in darkness
And this darkness abides in me

The numbers huddle,
crouch
The man says for us to look up
And I remember that when in front of a camera
A smile should appear
Yet my face becomes distorted
Wrinkles that crease my beaten face
hang deeply engraved
Like a stone
That’s my smile

Being here
I suffocate under the blanket of stench
That arises from under the
Torn sheets
And the camera man with one click
Captures our life
A life that will be lived for years to come
And by many others later
A life that is a cycle of suffering
As it slowly chokes me
Day by day
Night by night
As I wait
and hope
To disappear
may we remember those that died and suffered during the Holocaust
maria k May 2019
That was a wonderful time of day
When I took a glimpse of a person
Who never bothered about the specifics
of life in general
but glided past it
and loved life to its fullest
because of the minuscule moments
that pieced together
bit by bit and
day by day

He would wake up with wide eyes
and absorb life slowly and quietly
a book was his friend
music his haven
and most of all art was his expression
words were simple
short
phrases
glued together with thought
and the only conversations
were those that dealt with sifting through
the meaning of life

He became my magnifying glass
my compass
my sword of knowledge
and this still
remains true today
find a role model to brighten your life

— The End —