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Victoria Maretti Feb 2013
Making man into machines
Disposable commodities
While the puppets pull their strings
Which is better
Wood or metal?
Victoria Maretti Jan 2013
I want hands and lips
I want a dark room, I want tips
of your fingers
and the tip
of something else.
I want
Je veux
I want eyes
Your eyes
that burn holes through my corneas and my cerebellum all the way through the back of my skull.
I want to wrinkle your sheets and ruffle your hair and bite your pillow
and your neck
and leave scratches on your back.
That’s what I want right now.
Victoria Maretti Jan 2013
I wish
I wish I were braver
I want to be in an environment where I can be
Brave
Audacious
My Self.
All I am now are whispers
And I'm worried that
I'll fade into an echo
And echoes grow more distant
as time passes.
Victoria Maretti Jan 2013
What am I even doing?
This process seems so pointless
Smiles and charities
We all know it's about the drinking
and the ***.
And the coke.
(don't forget the coke)
These girls aren't your friends
they're side-by-side failed clones that
strive to give you validation
excreting words that
you will never need.
Victoria Maretti Jan 2013
Voices whispered through wires and electricity
Voices heard
and recognized
and cherished
Peals of laughter come from closed doors
Remind me, yes, I'm still alone.
Victoria Maretti Jan 2013
The smooth marble
A chill like ice
Indifferent
numb
Senseless.
A blade waits
Dull metal
silver
Lackluster.
The hilt grasped
And lowered again
and again
Again and again—
The tears form involuntarily
and fall like abusive raindrops
Pelting down with Gravity’s work
Contributing to the cold of marble.
Victoria Maretti Dec 2012
In Winter
The wind howls, doleful as the lone wolf
The only birds that circle round are
black and laden with death
All the others have gone south
for brighter days with the sun.
In Winter
Clouds once filled with gaiety and light
lose their merriness
Growing dark and groaning heavily
Burdened with loads of furious rain and
apathetic snow.
In Winter
The fox gains prominent ribs
slinking silently through mazes of fallen branches
back to a barren den
No rabbits can be found
their fur has blended in with panoramic white.

*With all that’s dark, chaotic, and alone
There’s question whether such a time will end
It’s rather easy to forget
that Spring is just around the bend.
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