• Marissa commented on the post, derived 5 years, 9 months ago

    I feel spent. Despondent. Searching the seas, I have no idea where the sudden sadness has derived from. All I know is that it is here. It makes my stomach feel gaping. It makes my mind feel empty. Maybe because nothing recently has worked in my favor. Forever in limbo.

  • Marissa commented on the post, orders 6 years ago

    I don’t know if she’ll ever understand how tiring ignoring someone you love can be. I’m my own doctor, taking orders I know I shouldn’t, leading myself to death. Most of the time, I welcome it with ignorant and hopeless arms. Other times I think I should fight it. But I’ve never been fully alone before, and I don’t think I have what it takes anymore.

  • Marissa commented on the post, wheelchair 6 years ago

    Four months ago, her mom would have stopped at my register, we would have had a nice chat, and it would have been a break in my otherwise monotonous shift. But things have changed. Her boyfriend beams as her mom says something funny. I feel her cart push past me, wait for the hello, and instead, feel the wrath of silence. I gaze blankly at the…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, braid 6 years, 3 months ago

    And after I told her the honest truth–everything I wanted to say but was too passive to before–she walked out the door, her braid swinging down her back. I saw him catch up to her, probably asking if she was okay, what could he do for her–it’s your guess. My best friend, but all I could do was hate. Hate her, hate her for dating him, hate it…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, solidarity 6 years, 5 months ago

    I was sick of everyone–my parents who I saw too much of, my friends who I saw too little of, the boy I gave my number to without thinking, hell, even myself. I couldn’t stand sitting in my own skin. I just needed out. Out of this body, out of this town, out of this life.

  • Marissa commented on the post, backlit 6 years, 6 months ago

    I walk in the dark, past my old best friend’s house, on toward the backlit streets beyond. This walk is so ingrained, so memorized, so normal. When I walk it after so many months, it feels as though I’m twelve all over again, late for dinner, rushing so as not to get scolded, eating quickly to run back down and play some more before the dark…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, collection 6 years, 6 months ago

    When the night is one where it’s too hot to think and too boring to be creative and you’ve seen your old friends in a grocery store, you check up on that old collection of cronies and see how truly fucked up they’ve become given enough independence and free range and alone time. Some things you’ll never come back from. But they’re not my problem…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, creative 6 years, 6 months ago


    “What?” I ask.

    “Alden.” He smiles, holding out a hand that I take. “I meant that this whole thing reminds me of entropy, the measure of molecular disorder. This whole town’s gone into chaos over one murder.” I can see that he instantly regrets his word choice as my stomach drops even lower than I thought it could. “I didn’t…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, willful 6 years, 6 months ago

    I remember walking past his casket, not wanting to be anywhere near his family, his friends, his acquaintances, his body. I glanced over and held in a sob. Win looked like someone ripped him open and filled him back up with sand before sewing the holes shut. I willfully kept back the tears and walked on, letting the next person say goodbye.…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, instant 6 years, 7 months ago

    In an instant, I saw them all before my eyes as my head cleared. It was as though smoke lifted from the confusion built up in my head; it all made sense now. They were all in on it. Against me. Together. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, he said. But then I spoke.

    Keep your friends closest.

  • Marissa commented on the post, blamed 6 years, 7 months ago

    I want to shake her and open her eyes to the sky above. So many stars, oh my, so many twinkling lights. She thinks she’s the sun, too bright to see anything else around her, and yet too dim to realize she’s not the only one. Blaming the earth for trying to keep her grounded, blaming the water for reflecting her follies, blaming the wind for…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, arthritis 6 years, 7 months ago

    Sometimes, in the night, thoughts of you flow forward from behind the cobwebs in my brain. I don’t feel pain or anger much anymore–it’s more of a numbness in my mind. But sometimes if I think hard enough, I know that when I see you again that I’ll want to be with you. And I hate it. You’re nothing special–you never were. You were mostly a…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, sleeved 6 years, 7 months ago

    I watched him go in front of my eyes, sleeved in the warm darkness while I stupidly followed behind in shorts and a tank top. The mosquitoes sunk deep into my skin, sucking out everything they could. So while I got weaker along the way, tripping over roots and underbrush, the distance between our bodies grew deeper. The distance between our hearts…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, pixels 6 years, 7 months ago

    I saw her so clearly through those lullabies. I saw her orange, curly hair, her bright blue eyes, and her porcelain skin. Her soft, tiny hand reached for mine, but instead of the touch flowing into my skin smoothly, it felt like pixels rubbing hard against each other. Little did this innocent girl know, her orange hair would turn brown and frizzy,…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, wrath 6 years, 7 months ago

    I would have done anything for you–anything at all, darling. But you didn’t want any of it. Even when I pushed and prodded, even when I knew I downright annoyed you. Eventually, I had to practice what I preached and get off my damn knees and stop worshiping you like I owed you something. All I owed anyone was my dignity, and you had buried that…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, flee 6 years, 7 months ago

    I hated that you didn’t stay on weekends. I hated that you texted back only a fraction of what I did. I hated that I always had to plan our hang outs. I hated that you talked about other girls during and after our make outs. I hated that you blamed me for what we did both times to carve the path of innocence into your conscience. I hated when you…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, decompose 6 years, 7 months ago

    I had a dream last night, and I gave you a third chance. People have heard of second chances, and that’s why I gave you one in the first place. You were the only one who got a second chance out of my stubborn hands. But a third, no.That would only come in places after my eyelids had shut and my mind had failed to make any sense. And when the sun…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, alarming 6 years, 7 months ago

    The sun peeks out from behind the valley hillside, and I’m alarmed at the beauty–at the connection it makes to my life. People have never stayed in my life easily, but the ones who do–they’re special, they’re genuine, they’re selfless people who’ve had shit thrown at them without a helping hand. And those are the people I admire most in life,…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, montage 6 years, 7 months ago

    The rain beat down on the hood of my jacket as my rain boots squished against the muddy hillside. Tears blended in with rain droplets, and the howling wind concealed my sobs. A montage of our memories ran across my brain as I threw the metal box into the mud. Underneath my fingernails went the mud as I dug a nice grave for your things. The box hit…[Read more]

  • Marissa commented on the post, spilled 6 years, 8 months ago

    He was late.


    Pulling up outside my house, I jumped in his stupid car before he could open the door for me. I noticed his shirt, and even in the dark, I could tell he had spilled something on it. But I loved him so damn much it didn’t even matter. The only problem was he didn’t even know.