Comments Posted By Mara

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Intensify, your eyes like music amplified when you’re staring off into space. You adore the stars, you want to be among them, more than you ever wanted to be with me.
My side is cold and my arms are bare. I work until the early hours of the morning, on projects to help me find myself. I’ve been trying to do some sort of self discovery or whatever that shit is.
I want to have a passion for something other than you. I want to be intense about life, wild about living, and not dying for someone to be with.

» Posted By Mara On 06.22.2011 @ 11:33 am


He called them goddesses, and I wonder today who he was speaking of. His love was legendary. His passion was unpredictable. I wish I could find someone like that.
And now he’s shut up in a book, loud only when I flip through the pages. I read him when I need to calm down, when I need to be inspired again about the beauty of the world. He knew about beauty. He spoke it, and wrote it, and lived by it.
I can’t wait till I die and I’m as well known as him.

» Posted By Mara On 06.21.2011 @ 8:32 am


Stardom is a rising. I wish I could be lifted into the sky, chalkboard black and make it beautiful by shining brighter than any other. But stardom is not the night, it’s just darkness.
I want to be famous when I’m dead.
I want to be loved when I’m alive.
I have this belief where everything is more beautiful
if it’s hidden from the public eye.

» Posted By Mara On 06.18.2011 @ 12:51 pm


Crescent moon smiles are the best, where you bare your teeth and even toss your head back with an accompanying laugh. I love when they light up the faces of people I love. I wish I could capture every smile, toss it in the sky, let it be my moonlight. Live by it, swear by it, smiles are what keeps me going.

» Posted By Mara On 06.17.2011 @ 9:38 am


I was with my best friend when I fell asleep on a train. She was in the seat across from me, and I had my head against the window. The rhythmic sound and rattling soothed me somehow, and eventually my eyes just drifted shut.
My whole school was there. I woke up to the principal running down the aisle between the seats, yelling for a doctor.
Somebody almost died on that trip. Someone I knew well. My best friend almost died in her sleep.

» Posted By Mara On 06.15.2011 @ 5:10 pm


I fold my ticket in half and shove it in my pocket. My jeans are washed out and too loose. I bite my lip and listen for the coming train. I’ve had to be waiting for an hour… could that be classified as loitering?
Oh well. I’m the only one here, the place is otherwise deserted. I have half a mind to go back inside, out of the cold, but I think the train’s about to arrive. Maybe I can get another chance to skip this town. Maybe I can start over.

» Posted By Mara On 06.14.2011 @ 12:53 pm


They said that’s what my name meant. Today it doesn’t matter, and I stare out the window knowing this, my legs stretched out on the dashboard, not caring. I let the sun warm me, and I know a year ago I wouldn’t be doing any of this.
The world goes by just beside me. It did all that time ago, it still does today. But this day is different: Whether I’m bitter, or beloved, I’m seen as what I think I am. So I’ll love myself, not compare myself, and let myself be loved, and better things may come my way.

» Posted By Mara On 06.12.2011 @ 12:04 pm


I wonder if I should go back home now, let the road rise up to meet me, make no compromise. This place holds nothing more than home did. There are gas stations just like those in North Carolina, there are grocery stores, there are awful people and there are those rare classic cars. I should trade those things in, maybe get back some of what I once had in return.
I love what I left back five states over. Maybe I should go see if my love’s still all there.

» Posted By Mara On 06.11.2011 @ 7:36 am


Teacher, I wonder what could be taught besides the basic subjects. I want to teach something other than math, English, science. There should be lessons held for love, or for life itself, or the beauty that is the world and poetry. I could teach that. I think I’d do very well. Of course, with that salary, why bother? I’ll just write about those things instead.

» Posted By Mara On 06.09.2011 @ 1:06 pm


You always tell me to paint my nails, I don’t know why. Today, just walking, just like every day we walk, it’s great. Mild, sunshine, clear sky. You tell me that I’m beautiful, I’m beginning to believe you. You tell me you don’t think I love you, I do. More than you know. So when I grab your hand, I really want to hold it. When I turn around when I’m leaving I want you to hold me. I love you.

» Posted By Mara On 06.06.2011 @ 4:57 pm


Plaid like a schoolgirl with socks up to her knees. I’ll never be her, part of me is grateful. Part of me is not. I’m of another world, a world that’s much darker. It’s made of night, where I live. I walk when it’s dark out to find, I don’t know who. Sometimes I’ll wait for cars to pass by and then I think of diving in front of them–but then I get too dark inside, so I close my eyes and wait for light to come

» Posted By Mara On 06.05.2011 @ 7:04 pm


Like night, a tuxedo, slicked-back black hair, sleekness. Renting a dress, finally buying those new shoes. Prom night. My first prom. My last prom.
I saw you standing on the sidewalk, more eager than I’ve ever seen you, standing on the edge with only your tiptoes. You worked so hard to make this night special for me. Your enthusiasm is something to fall for; your drive to give me everything I’ve ever wanted in this life is something to treasure. I love your excitement. I love your ideas, your spontaneity. I love your love for me.

» Posted By Mara On 06.02.2011 @ 5:22 pm


Part of our mind to bring back memories and thoughts that we have stored for years to use them when we need them.

» Posted By Mara On 05.31.2011 @ 8:17 am


something my mum loves, and which I hate. Strong, and with a persistent perfume. Covered with chocolate, she loves it

» Posted By Mara On 05.28.2011 @ 8:49 am


This wasn’t what I was looking for. I never wanted to be here, with him, I never wanted to be ditched in the middle of a mall by the pretzel shop, smack-dab in the middle of the walkway. I watched him go and so did the cashier behind the counter. As I turned away, tears springing to my eyes, the cashier asked me, “You want a pretzel? It’s on the house.” So I took it, and his kindness comforted me, even if it was only a pretzel.

» Posted By Mara On 05.22.2011 @ 7:05 pm


So I’m supposed to die in fifteen minutes. I’m probably gonna be watching a movie and won’t even notice the time pass. I’ll be writing a story and six o’clock will come and go. But if the rapture does happen when it’s supposed to, at least I’ll die the way I want: writing. At least I’ll be living out my purpose in life then. See you later, everyone… hopefully (;

» Posted By Mara On 05.21.2011 @ 2:46 pm


Honestly I don’t feel like writing anything right now. I hate my thoughts. I hate what I say. I hate who I am. Sometimes I want to die, like now. I hate nighttime. I’m not even a morning person. I hate where I live. Sometimes when I’m walking outside I think of running away. Sometimes when we’re on the highway I think of opening my door and just unbuckling the seatbelt. Sometimes…. I don’t even know anymore. Nobody sees. Why should I make such a big deal out of this?

» Posted By Mara On 05.19.2011 @ 7:43 pm


Curious is the time you took,
a curse in my direction
lovers lone and long I stood
waiting for love’s perfection
It never came. I came around
to believing I wasn’t there,
not in that place they find themselves
love is no crown that I can wear

» Posted By Mara On 05.16.2011 @ 2:28 pm


For some reason, the word bones fills me with a childlike, thrilling fear. I can hear dry sounds. I can smell stale air. I can feel heat, bare heat against my skin. Bones is a summer word. But it’s not a good summer word I’ve come to love, like sweet and tryst and sunshine and daylight, it’s one of those summer-slasher-fic words that we all go to see though our parents tell us not to. It’s forbidden. It’s dangerous. It rolls so easily off the tongue. I am a child filled with fear.

» Posted By Mara On 05.11.2011 @ 4:43 pm


The word heel doesn’t remind me of feet. It reminds me of my dog walking days, where the owners of a particularly rowdy yellow lab actually told me to say ‘heel’ when the lab got too crazy.
I walked down the street and that’s when I first saw you. Heel was the first word you heard me say. Then, it was hi. Then it was telling you my name.
Today I said the last word. It was “you”, but of course, it had the words “I love” before it.

» Posted By Mara On 05.07.2011 @ 8:11 am


I knew a girl who used to be a fairy princess, or that’s what she claimed. She’d sneak into her mother’s makeup stash and draw lines and swirls all over her face with eyeliner, then put on bright pink lipstick, and she still looked like a princess. She lived in a house wear the floor creaked, and even though it did, she danced on it day and night. Her mother left her.
I was that little girl. Am I still a fairy princess?

» Posted By Mara On 05.05.2011 @ 4:55 pm


Camp reminds me of the days I’ve spent on NCSU, totally out of my league, tromping the grounds like I almost belonged but was in reality years away. I’d walk down the paths, grass or stone, sit in the ampitheaters and benches, and write haiku. My poetry teacher was amazing. She gave me my voice.

» Posted By Mara On 05.04.2011 @ 4:26 pm


dinosaur kind of rhymes with meteor… isn’t that a tragic coincidence? Meteors hurtling towards earth, dinosaurs just chilling, eating some other dinosaur or something. It’s kind of sad, kind of symbolic. Here we are, enjoying ourselves, not caring about tomorrow or anyone else besides ourselves, and there could be some inevitable, terrible end coming for us. It could be in the next second. Not an apocalypse. Maybe just death.

» Posted By Mara On 05.03.2011 @ 6:45 pm


Bandana. Child days when we were pirates, with makeshift swords to duel with, and you would always win. Because I’d let you win. Because I loved you then.
Now you still live across the street, but I don’t see you anymore. I don’t see your family, we want nothing to do with each other.
I still have my wooden sword somewhere, and I think my bandanas have been shoved inside a drawer–what do you say we take them back out again, for old times sake?
Maybe sometime this summer?
You said yes, of course, soon, but you never meant it.

» Posted By Mara On 05.02.2011 @ 5:26 pm


fluorescent. Tiny rooms where the walls are made of wood and insulation, with nothing but a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling… lit? unlit? I leave it lit in my head so I can see the room.
I’ve seen many rooms like this. I used to tell people I was allergic to insulation or wood, stupid as I was, just so I could avoid going in there. Those rooms scared me. I’d think of being walled up in there forever, a body forgotten, nobody to care. That’s what scared me most of all, the last thing. Nobody to care.

» Posted By Mara On 05.01.2011 @ 6:13 pm


Clover. The word reminds me of parades in the almost-springtime and bright Sunday mornings I have all to myself. And luck, a thing I can never achieve.
I’m not a superstitious person. So is luck superstition? I think it’s real. I’ve seen others stumble upon it without even looking for it. But I can never find those four leaf clovers, or horseshoes, or whatever people use for a lucky charm these days.

» Posted By Mara On 05.01.2011 @ 6:26 am


Angels. Whenever I think of a chorus I think of angels.
Or of children singing discordantly in a church on Easter morning, each in their spring-colored clothing, looking like plastic eggs themselves.
I never really liked Easter, though I recognize the significance of it to others.
Sometimes I don’t want to celebrate holidays when I get older. I don’t want to celebrate anything. I want to go somewhere, by myself, with no one else, hide inside a little apartment and write my whole mind out on paper until I die alone.

» Posted By Mara On 04.29.2011 @ 2:07 pm


the desk in front of me is immovable and I must write something on it. Or else I might not get out of here alive.
I raise my wrist, the one chained to the leg of the chair. I think of him right outside the door, breathing, waiting, breathing for me to write anything. A letter. A story. Words.
I fumble with the pen.
This is all in my head. He’s not even here. He’s never had any hold over me he’s been conscious of. It’s all my head, his influence over me, his power. Why do I let him control me?

» Posted By Mara On 04.28.2011 @ 6:39 pm


Trailers. Trashed lives. Cigarettes, overalls. That’s when I think of when I hear the word trailer.
Or move trailers–that strange kid who talks to himself in art class wants to be a movie director. I don’t know if he’d be very good.
I’m a very judgmental person, aren’t I? I taught myself to judge, and the people around me made it easy. But I could end up in a trailer park, or watching a trailer from that strange kid’s movie.
I could be in their place as easily as they could be in mine.

» Posted By Mara On 04.26.2011 @ 4:29 pm


these things entwine, like thoughts. and like thoughts there are more around it; streets, people passing by, little blood cells in a vein. I sit in silence, the way I like, and stare at my hands clutching the steering wheel.
I’m not going anywhere, because I can’t. They’re stopped in front of me. Accident, I think. I could turn on the radio for a detour suggestion, or to see if anyone was hurt. But I don’t, because I like silence.

» Posted By Mara On 04.25.2011 @ 11:40 am

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