My book is up on Amazon, called Lost While Dreaming by Mary Rose
My book is up on Amazon, called Lost While Dreaming by Mary Rose
we barely relate, in this era of tech
unless it’s through a cellular device
i want to go back to soul connections
and talking face to face
the youth today are faced
with an alarming rate of
anxiety and depression prescriptions
trying to drown out
all the crises we have been left to deal with
i too, long ago, have given in
so accustomed to the voices in my head
and the pictures i see on small screens
i forgot there’s a whole world for me to explore
(set aside the oceans they’ve poisoned and the forests they’ve burnt)
please, ask us what we live for
because the people around me
have lost hope
hardly clinging to life
i promise you
behind all the editing and strategic planned photos on a phone
is a face that hopes for more
if only you could just open those doors..
I have always lusted over beauty
beauty in a photo
beauty in words
beauty in people, especially
the beauty I found in women often confused me
was I supposed to be quite so enthralled by the blush dusted over freckled cheeks
that bunched beneath crinkled eyes when she smiled?
that heavenly smile to match that beautiful laugh!
was I supposed to press my own lips together
when watching her apply lipgloss?
wondering how those lips would taste under mine
sure, beauty can be found in all people
but I’ve just always been drawn to girls
in all their cherry pink softness
with their smooth skin and dark eyelashes
catching glitter from their eyeshadow
surrounded by the damp morning dew of grass and daisy-flowers
that’s how I’d like to find my love
that’s the love I wish for
Why is it that everytime I think I’m done with you, everytime I think I’m completely and utterly over you, everytime I think I lost my love for you, you come around, turn my world upside down, make me forget why I hated you in the first place, literally sucking every bad memory of you I had deeply reserved in the back of my mind out of me, leaving me gasping for air, for you, while knowing exactly what you’re doing and then I’m stuck again in the same flow I tried to escape millions of times before but never getting out of of that devil’s hole
The worst thing is not letting you back into my life everytime you feel like it, no. It’s knowing exactly how it’s going to end everytime, it’s knowing exactly how everytime I’m left completely torn and more vulnerable than ever, yet never making this stop, never taking the first step and putting an end to all of this, it’s knowing exactly what you’re doing to me and what your intentions are with me, while still giving you the permission to fuck me up completely and not making one single sound, not saying one single word, not even trying to stop this mess, that I and only I myself created in the first place
I knew you were going to be difficult, I knew you were going to cause me a lot of trouble and yet I endured all the pain and stepped on my heart for you to give you a chance, to see how this was going to work out, to challenge myself, but in the end it’s me who lost every damn piece of everything I put into this mistake, I lost myself in the process of trying to hold us above water but you drowned me piece by piece and I never tried fighting for myself, the only thing I thought was always going to belong to me and only me
Again my body asks,
Why I use it as a canvas for my own sadness.
if I tell you all my secrets
you won’t look at me the same
I dont think that’ll you’ll believe me
though you will tell yourself you do
before you turn around and guilt me
in your perfectly passive aggressive way
my mind travels where it knows the road gets dark
i let it happen even though it makes me sick
a slap in the face to those who try to help me out
who tell me that my feelings are for me to pick
but i’m too used to being sad
moody, sullen, uninspired
it’s all that inspires my wares
so who cares if it makes me tired?
i’d love to have that romantic twist
on a suffering so beautiful
but nothing’s pretty ‘bout the way
my brain makes me hysterical
a fucking joke of a human girl
whose feelings run around unchecked
whose clown mask only grows more sheer
but still she thinks no one detects
that she’s dying inside.
isn’t that funny?
you’re quite unstable,
they all see it honey!
and whatever people say about perfect storms
there’s nothing quite as horrid as a good thing torn
to shreds, your own doing.
giving your heart is losing
any shred of dignity you had
and respect for those who aren’t yet mad.
sometimes it feels contagious
my longing is outrageous
and i know i need to face this
but for now it stays in the pages
of my crappy poetry book.
I spent so much time
dreaming about you
Scheming about, what I would do
Concocting rhymes to make you mine
Lines as divine as your aura that shines
Out from your soul, but I didn’t know
Once I had you in my grasp that I’d lose all control
Our hands clasped together, our legs entwined
I never thought these stars would align
And that you’d be mine
Your lips would be sweeter than the finest wine
Your hips and curves, art defined
And your addictive kiss would warm my cold heart
2/15/20 sunshine in a dark time
Funny how each line ends with “end”
Maybe it’s a sign we should too…
tonight i feel like reflecting
because every time i look around me
i see no one
and i used to blame my loneliness
on people’s inability to carry something
as sacred as me
but maybe i’m the incapable one
maybe i’m the one who won’t let go of dreams
that’ll never come true
i love people that i shouldn’t
and i neglect the souls that are in front of me
i’m an option because i allow myself to be
i’ll never be someone of need
but i need to take responsibility
and come to terms with the fact that
i’ve done more harm than i know
whether it was acknowledged or not
i’m no saint
so acting like i’m not a problem
is a picture that i need to stop trying to paint
self-reflection // kira malibu
Sun rays dropped as tears down her cheek, as storm clouds took over and covered her face. The light sinked deep within, only to be consumed by a life of sin. The brightness diminished, like how a day inevitably turns to night.
She lost herself and gave up.
And just like that, her light ended and darkness began. Her days were no longer days, just cold hearted nights; filled with regret instead of light. Her insight no longer there, as it had since disappeared.
In the end, all that was left were her fears.
My pipe is burning:
Black and white colors the life gray. gray prospects are endless. grayish red, grayish blue, grayish green. The pipe is burning and life is falling apart. Gray has a taste that is very common, and then we’re addicted. Just like life. The older we get the more we owe to it. so i leave it at the peak of my excitement. But why? It is a failure again, the misery will never end.
I will leave for the spring.
Yesterday i painted flowers in clay after planting myself with dirt. and the ears were yellow green growing on the area of my head, and the memory crows fly without air.
Crows cling to my brain, everything is a dream, and the feathers of dirt deceives us all the time..
Soon i will bring back the dust and fly the bird from my chest toward the land of the sun, O swallow, i will open the cage with this pistol.
Scarlet sheds, blood or fire?
I sit back and think:
The world has grown old and the face of the painting began to relax more.. Oh god, What can i do before it falls on the tower of spirits? the brush, the colors.
Quickly, straight and short strokes, sharp and agile, my colors are clear and primal, yellow, red, blue, i want to restore things to their spontaneity as if the world had just emerged from its first cosmic egg.
And today i have formed my face again not as what nature want but as i want it to be:
Two eyes, two eyes without a decision, a green face and a beard like fire, the ear was in the picture, i did not need it. i grabbed the feather, i mean the razor blade and removed it.
It appears to be mixed up between my head outside the picture and inside it. Well, What will i do with that flesh mass?
I sent it to the woman who did not know my value and i thought i loved her. Well, Let the appendages meet together…
Here is my ear you talkative woman, talk to it. Now i can hear and see with my fingers.