Simple Brown Eyes

And in my mind,I just hope you dont feel it.

The existential bummer mixed with the heart ache. 

That all these feelings disappear 

I hope for your sake. 

From the pit of my stomach to the bottom of my heart,

All you did was take me, 

fill me with memories, seamen and fake happiness 

in all my empty cracks.

You made me believe that forever was now 

and now was all we had. 

And like nothing and yet everything I meant to you. 

I felt almost lost. 

It seemed out of the blue. 

You told me the worst parts and now what do I do? 

with those little bits of information

The way you hate something, 

The way you sleep and dream.

I take them all like hits. 

Hits to the chest, to the head 

How can you let me just lay in my bed

Wondering

Pondering 

If everything that was

Could have been

Should have been

But wasn’t. 

Fake 

You cling to me 

A heart break,

That’s what you left me.

It wasn’t the imprint of ur laugh, 

The way you smiled.

It wasn’t the way I perfectly slept in your arms, 

head nuzzled into your shoulder

The way we synced, 

You moved, I moved, 

You cried, I cried

You danced, I danced

Now the past tense, 

everything that was.

The way I fell in love with the simplicity of brown in your eyes

 the way you held me when I was scared of the storms. 

I called you pumpkin, and I was honey bunny, 

Pulp fiction.

I would show you stupid videos, 

sitting in your car, 

only to spend a few more minutes in your world. 

Faded away is now the feeling of you making love to my body every nip,

Every grip.

so effortlessly

I let you in, 

Inside my body, inside my mind, inside my soul, 

I let you into every inch and crevice.

I trusted you.

I was open

The words of your lips escaping, saying I was your everything.

Now reduced to merely nothing.

It wasn’t the way you walked or held yourself as a “man”, 

Your admiral attitude and ambition I had once admired in pride.

No you left me with the worst

You left me with your words of hatred

With what you really thought 

after all this time.

You left me, but before you did, you kicked me to my low.

What a low blow. 

You didn’t leave with just a heart ache, 

You left me with disappointment 

Dissatisfaction. 

Diss, a diss, an insult written in words brightened and embedded through a screen with no regret or feelings of remorse. 

A tasteless attack on my insecurities, 

You left me wondering if I ever even was good enough, if I ever was a goddess before you that you also blindly loved as I had once before, 

You were everything to me, 

It was one sided, 

Unlike your face.

you damaged this. 

Us.

Me.

The last memory damaged by your actions, and the intention of hurt. 

How could someone I have loved done that so easily without hesitation. 

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Simple Brown Eyes

The Contradiction of Connecting

C.R.A.V.E

Do you ever just crave something? Not want, because if it was wanting then there is more ambition to obtain it, but just crave, something that sits on your mind in the back of your head and lingers on for a while. Not the crave of food, or going to a familiar place, but a crave within yourself.

Lately there has been a sense of nostalgia inside me, I am not happy, yet I am not sad. It seems to stir in the middle of things, and I do not know how to care for this feeling.  My thoughts trail into simple human needs, to feel craved, to feel wanted, to be given some form of attention, and yet I want nothing more but to be left alone, I want to sit in a corner and watch life happen before me in this neutral expression, and I can’t help but to feel so out of place, like I know my body is there, but I am not.

I realized how empty I was feeling while I sat aside from being social today, I sat and watched, the life happen before me, the slow intoxication of liquor fill my friends, the flirty talks and dancing, and all I wanted was to just be in a bubble, to sit in the corner and just stare, and all I wanted was for someone to just come up to me and say “hey wanna talk about something”

Perhaps silly conversations about partying and drinking bore me, the consumption of forgetting yourself for a few hours seems low, yet lately its all that has been tempting me, fully aware that it cannot always be used as an escape.

This isn’t a crave for sex, or flirty attention, no what I crave is something deeper, something honest and soul worthy, something with a real connection. I find myself being an envious person during my observations, watching people connect is so beautiful it makes me wonder if I ever even had that with anyone. Publicly displaying their open souls, knowing that the room is full, yet to them its only them. I admire people who can connect without the care of the judgements around them, without caring about anything or any labels, but you see the happiness on their faces, and you can tell that there is no emptiness inside them, in that very moment they just connect, I suppose that is what bothers me, it angers me, I am trying to figure out how to fill this missing void inside me, where to find this form of happiness without having it backfire in my face, my past is enough to have taught me not to go down certain paths.

Yet my mind keeps contradicting itself, I want connection, yet I want to be alone.

And then I remember how angry I feel

How damaged I became.

How empty I am inside.

How broken I am, with what I am trying to heal.

How tired my body and soul is.

How numb the world looks to me now.

And I think, why would anyone even try to connect with someone as fucked up as I am right now?

It is human nature to want to connect to something, or to someone, to feel recognized and appreciated. Nobody likes the idea of temporary when they find something so great in their lives.  Perhaps what I am craving is a connection where I can be me, a fully open human being, I am craving for someone to just listen, and yet I have the hardest time finding the trust to place in people. Everything sets me on edge, and I find it driving me insane.

How do you connect with someone that cannot open up, yet wants to open up?

 

The Contradiction of Connecting

.Decaying and Expired.

I wish there was some sort of manual written for your life, things would seem safer I suppose, you would be able to avoid the tragic things without the surprises that lurked darkly behind.

In a world of feeling a misfit and out of place, fitting in with life itself never seemed to be such an option. It is just confusing as ever, floating around attempting to keep what is left together. Has been it a struggle? Perhaps in ways, yes and in other ways I can’t be more grateful about it. School, Family, Break ups, the minimal drama at my job… its all been there for me to soak up.

Bored, we all get bored we grow desperate in search of something more, something to satisfy better, something to tame this gluttony for human existence. We lunge with the risks in mind, “But I am here, I am alive and this is who I am now”

I have recently been in the process of figuring out myself, do not get me wrong I know more or less the person I am to others, but there is this thirst for finding inner peace, with my body and soul. I should have gone on this journey a while ago when I had the opportunity.

Everything is so temporary, and yet we hold onto everything as if it was to last forever, things fall into an end, and when you keep pushing it forward, it only becomes more and more stale. Somethings are better left to when they expired, when something is in a process of decay, we can always grow something new from that pile of shit we put ourselves in.

So I must grow.

.Decaying and Expired.

FLIPPED

In this world Figure A, is no longer a black sheep but the golden one. Figure A has everything in place and a world so perfectly laid out. Figure A is not misbehaving and is doing what they are told. Figure A is no longer Figure B. Figure B on the other hand is now in question of sanity, the mental state in which they think. Figure A worries about figure B, and wonders about the morals. Figure A was taught to be faithful towards the loved ones, just like Figure B. And when figure A finally is grabbing a hold of life, the relationship, the job, the well everything, they notice figure B starting to slowly diminish that. Figure A is conflicted with telling Figure C, knowing though it might hurt Figure B. Figure B is a liar, they are a cheating un grateful liar. It is as if Figure B is no longer even recognizable, there is no shame in Figure B. It is funny how things flip, life makes these small changes and suddenly Figure A doesn’t feel so guilty about making this about them. Making it their summer to travel and fall in love, or well deeper in love. Figure A has no regrets in knowing that they are keeping all of their sanity. Their only disappointment although is Figure B, what is to become of that?

 

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Happy Readings.

 

FLIPPED

Sorry for Being Fake.

I am so sorry,
I am sorry for what I am doing to you.
The feelings that you feel,
Sorry
I don’t feel them.
Those soft cheek pecks,
I can’t return them.
And when your lips
They touch mine,
Deep down I wish
I could enjoy them,
Honestly.
Your hands on me,
The way they move
All over my skin
If only they would
Really turn me on,
But…
I can’t feel them.
Your hands cradle over mine,
And they cover every inch,
You see they are
Secure
But…
I don’t see it.

Perdoname (sorry)

When you smile with that light,
There’s just darkness in mine.
And I go fake and turn cold,
like frigid metal.
I wish I could run.
You know?
Just run the other way,
Avoid looking into those eyes,
What was left behind.
I can’t do it,
I can’t look you in the eyes,
I can’t look at you…
At all.
I am so sorry,
I am such a disaster.
There is too much chaos
Stay away from me, please,
Can’t you see it?
I am not good for you,
I am not good for anyone.
So please,
If you end up,
Heart broken,
Angry,
Or mental,
Just as much as I am.
Just know, that deep down
I truly was very sorry.

 

– Happy ReadingsMariana

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Sorry for Being Fake.

“You Never Get What You Want”

I wish sometimes I could just open up.

Just spew out every emotion and thought with no filter in mind, and not care who I was hurting.

I wish that my voice could be as easily heard as my writing can be written.

Why?

Why the hesitation?

If you want something, then you go for it, well I know what I want.

Although what if that something you want is out of your reach and you’re just scared to go for it? Scared to take a step forward in fear of just being pushed away.

So, I just hold my self, I just glue my mouth together and that is that. And then I am just left with the regrets to sit in my mind: of what I could have done, what I should have done, but I didn’t, because I am a coward.

It is my voice, so use it right? After all what harm can you do? People forcing you to speak all the time, giving you a chance to open your mind and let everything unfold, giving you the chance to be hones.

And I just let moments like that pass me by, with simple one syllable words, because I am to scared to be faced with fear and rejection.

Already knowing the answers, so why do I bother to speak up, voicing something for change, but why? When it wont be changed. I understand that, I get it.

I just don’t want that.

I know, I know

“You don’t always Get what YOU want.” *sigh*

 

Happy readings!

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Thanks,

Marz

“You Never Get What You Want”