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About Literature / Hobbyist Marlana MixFemale/United States Group :iconshortandsweetpoetry: ShortAndSweetPoetry
Short poetry for all! <3
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Literature
Blocked
The worst people make the most memories
in my brain, in my soul,
and years later I can still
pick them out
in a crowd of a thousand faces,
a million memories,
one similarity.
My writing isn't good
but I try to capture emotion,
the way you used to look at me
and the trembling of my heart,
the touch and kiss(es) of lust
and the broken hearts of dust,
and even when you're just a mistake
that lingers in my brain,
you're still here,
a broken mirror.
I watch and watch
and vow to never be like them,
but the truth isn't gonna save me anymore,
so I'm turning you into a lie.
You never happened,
we never happened,
the summer never stammered,
the thoughts stopped,
you are nothing,
you are blocked.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 5 8
Literature
Bailey
Your voice sounds like
spring flowers blooming,
born from soil that has
seen too much rain,
too much drought,
too much erosion and
not enough attention
to last through the
cloudy April days
and heat of early summer.
Tell me about the men
who have stolen your innocence,
the reason why you show up
at work with tears in your eyes,
who did this to you,
who broke your heart and made you feel
like you weren't beautiful enough?
When she braids your hair
and your eyeliner reflects
the kohl of ancient queens,
I stand exasperated--
O! Woman,
you do not burden me,
I may be young but
your soul is old
and I long to learn.
My friend,
I hope that my smile
and ever present happiness
stays with you no matter
where you go, and no matter if
you forget my name--
as long as you remember my fire,
I will remember yours.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 8 4
Literature
2-23-17
I'm still alive,
trust me,
but I cannot
b r e a t h e .
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 8 4
Literature
.
      I never thought that
      history and chemistry
      were similar subjects
      until I met you.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 10 4
Literature
-
I kissed you 14 weeks ago
under the lying sun
who should have burnt us
who should have turned me away,
and closure is a whore
that doesn't know when
to stop demanding the truth,
because there is no true in you,
you have no truth to make you true,
I drive down the street
and every song whispers your name
and makes me believe that you
will always offer your embrace,
but you feel so wrong,
you feel so wrong.
I am attracted to this pain
that eats me alive
but my body won't die,
my skin won't shed
(and Lord knows I have
been a snake to him),
This shore has been flooded
and the water won't drain,
the anchor has been done for days
and now I only have
my songs of discord
to keep me away.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 10 2
Literature
Dust
Listen to the melody of the
mushroom clouds
that composes a symphony of
nuclear bombs and nuclear booms
as we choke on the ashes
of long lost lovers and
politicians.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 6 0
Literature
The Truth
He promised me the universe
while I played in someone else's bed.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 10 5
Literature
Necromancer
You aren't alive
yet here you are,
talking and moving
and spewing the
same ol' same ol'
words you do.
You aren't alive
yet here you are,
pretending to know
that you know it all
and I'm pretending
to care for you.
You aren't alive
yet here I am,
hoping that one day
you'll wake up
and realize that
you don't have
to be dead.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 21 5
Literature
Deflowered
I am sorry, but the
son of your sorrow
stole my flowers.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 16 8
Literature
Love Me Like The Stars
My heart is a galaxy
         swelling with shooting
                   stars and passing comets,
                             rocky asteroids and alien
                                       worlds; stardust pumps
                                                 violently through my veins
                                                           when you touch me so.
                           
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 42 27
Literature
iv. Fool
This love is nonexistent
although I still exist.
I will blame it on
    her hair,
    her lover,
    her name,
the way the sun rises
and falls e'vry day.
I will crash and burn
and fall to the Earth;
the wind will carry
the salt from my skin,
o'er the land;
the crops will die
and her heart
will finally
be mine.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 15 5
Literature
Fat Girls Shouldn't Wear Shorts
Fat girls should not wear shorts
to "show off their curves"
or "display their legs"
because thick thighs
do not actually
save lives.
They should not wear shorts
because everyone will
gawk and talk
and hope they can
mentally erase the image
of chubby legs and wide hips
rubbing together.
There must have been a reason
they were watching your back
in the first place,
anyway.
Fat girls should not wear clothing
that does not suit
their body type.
Throw on a sweatshirt
and feel like a prisoner
in a cotton cage.
Let yourself become
"one" with your
insecurity.
Never dare to wear revealing clothes
because no one is attracted to
repulsive, ample limbs.
You will never find a lover
because character and self-worth
are determined by the
meat on your bones.
All people are created equal,
and equal equals skinny,
and skinny equals the
ideal woman.
But the ideal woman
spends all of her time
loathing her appearance
                        &
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 387 401
A More Updated ID by BlueLionEyes A More Updated ID :iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 10 21
Literature
Hiccups
My diaphragm is fluttering
and I wish the call wouldn't
have ended;
You fall asleep so easily
and I am left with an empty bed
to roll around in for hours.
I can't just hold a pillow
and pretend it's you.
I'm not like that.
I need you in the flesh:
No more phone calls and
late nights, webcams
and tearful sights,
I need your arms
wrapped around my waist
and our legs intertwined
under the sheets.
I need you there when
the hiccups come,
to hold me close and
lull me back to sleep.
Because I am in your dreams
and you make my diaphragm
f l u t t e r .
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 13 13
Literature
Sins Of Our Mother
"Home free" is midnight fights,
whiskey bottles,
anti-depressant cigarettes--
Mother, mother, where are you?
I'm feeling as though my heart
has been torn as you're
rolling death up in paper-thin sheets
smoking him while claiming release,
blood-shot eyes, lungs black,
I will never take you back.
Don't ever compare us because
(I am scar[r]ed) of you,
scared of being like you,
scared of treating my future family
the way you did ours--
People need to stop
telling me to forget, because
how can I ever forgive
the unbelievable pain and
endless nights of gasping sobs,
believing that I am nothing?
People need to stop
telling me to forget, because
I will never forgive 
&
I will not be blamed
for the sins of our mother.
--but I will suffer.
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 10 24
Literature
Papa Blue Eyes
Papa,
tell me more about the war
and the stars in the sky,
how to shoot a rifle
and how to fish and fly,
teach me holy lessons
and sing your silly songs:
aloha oi, aloha oi,
until we meet again.

"Ghosts aren't real, but Jesus is,"
you said when I was scared,
but when you were scared
I had nothing to say.
Papa,
take me back to that wishing
fountain at the mall
when you'd give me all
of your pennies and send me
to wish upon a shooting
water stream.
I wish that I would have wished
that you you live forever,
because I believe in wishes
just like I believe in you.
Papa,
I miss the baseball games
and unhealthy food;
I miss the tractor
and endless photos;
I miss listening to Cash
and building weird things
in the basement;
I miss post-office visits
and hospital coffee.
I'm sorry that I didn't help you more
when I was younger:
I never thought that I would
someday lose you.
Papa Blue Eyes,
I have your blue eyes,
and you should be proud
I have that fire in my heart
that almost
:iconBlueLionEyes:BlueLionEyes
:iconbluelioneyes:BlueLionEyes 15 22

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Literature
knots
mama,
i've always tied myself into knots
that bent double to please you;
when you shook i would shatter,
a frayed child waiting for the next
night spent sleepless
by your side.
mama, i used to climb trees to escape,
armed with a book and a knife i'd climb
and i never knew what i'd do if my weapons
were required but i kept them close
just the same.
i used to climb trees to cry
because you always told me
my tears were by design
but they always escaped me
like rats fleeing a doomed vessel
and i would never
have given permission
if they'd only stopped to ask.
mama,
i've always tied myself into knots
that bent double to please you;
when you break, i'm there holding
the pieces of you
that held me when i was small
and mama,
you've no trees to climb
but i'll help you leave
if you ever need
to go.
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:iconlissomer:Lissomer 38 21
Literature
Vanguard, Book 2, Chapter 10
Vyacheslav tapped impatiently on the hilt of his sword, the tip dug into the mud between the granite tiles at his feet. His breath was steady, his eyes ever lingering on the manor before him, his heart beat quiet like a jaguar lurking in the underbrush, ready to pounce as soon as the prey had turned its back. The Umbral manor was undoubtedly one of the more recognizable manors in all of the Sanctuary, and Vyacheslav hated every single brick of it. It rose tall into the sky, several oily black spires standing like bony fingers. The facade seemed almost to meld with the night, one large shadow among thousands others, and taking upon itself a strangely cathedral-like appearance. Mosaic windows, black gargoyles on every surface, rain drops dripping from their ferocious teeth. Vyacheslav's gaze rose even further, up to the heavens themselves, blackened with the high of night and the overshadowing of omnipresent rain clouds. He felt the droplets on his face, but after living a few years in t
:iconSteenBelhage:SteenBelhage
:iconsteenbelhage:SteenBelhage 1 0
Literature
Vanguard, Book 2, Chapter 9.6
Walking through the wall was like pushing through a curtain—a curtain that didn't yield, yet didn't stop her either. It was strange to pass through something meant to keep unwelcome guests out like was it mere mist. It wasn't the strangest thing she had tried—for her, what was strange and what was normal had become frustratingly hard to distinguish—but she still had to open and close her hands, to know that she was still made of solid material. She looked down at her hands, but it didn't matter; the darkness that engulfed everything in here hid them away. For all she knew, they could just as well be absent. For what the darkness hid was there, and yet not there, all at the same time. This she had come to learn in the years she spent seeing no light but weary candlelight. Perhaps her hands were there, and perhaps they were imaginary... but who was to say that simply because something was imaginary, it was not there? The darkness that overcame her made her doubt the rea
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Literature
Vanguard, Book 2, Chapter 9.3
The night had fallen, but that didn't stop them. The people. It never did. Every hour of every day, they were always hungry for shows like these, Theodor found. Down there they stood, the hordes of plebs in rags and filth, flocked like starved dogs at the gallows' feet. A gentle rain trickled through the frigid air of night, faintly illuminated by lantern posts scattered around the city square. The mists were white trappings upon an oily black night, where the silver grace of the moon was tucked away in the cotton duvet of rainclouds—only the lonesome light of lanterns could ward away these shadows. Theodor's amber stare drifted over the teeming masses before him, silently counting them as they shoved and pushed, all of them wanting to get front row seats for the pending show. Their ill mutterings were a cacophony of broken voices, some wheezing, some loud—some drunk, some surprisingly sober. It was ironic, Theodor found. In a realm so possessed by water, they would all muc
:iconSteenBelhage:SteenBelhage
:iconsteenbelhage:SteenBelhage 1 0
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BlueLionEyes
Marlana Mix
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Hi, my name is Marlana and I am a senior living in Michigan, where the weather is unpredictable.

♥ Musician ♥ Writer ♥ Conservative Libertarian ♥ Space Cookie ♥ Poet ♥ Someday-Author ♥ Someday-Teacher ♥ Leo ♥ Lioness ♥ Rabbit ♥ Survivor ♥ Loves: ♥ Video Games ♥ Movies ♥ Some TV ♥ History ♥ "The End" ♥ The Sea ♥ Stars ♥ Music ♥ Animals ♥ Cookies ♥ Chocolate Milk ♥ My sister ♥ My boyfriend ♥

Marlana's Personality Type Results


USA Language Level stamp4 by Faeth-designStamp: German Language Beginner by MafiaVamp


"Who are you, that do not know history?" ~Ulysses from Fallout: New Vegas

"For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved." ~Romans 10:10

"May ruin overtake them by surprise- may the net they hid entangle them, may they fall into the pit, to their ruin." ~Psalm 35:8

"Don't be sorry your darkness is gone. I'll carry if for you- always. I'll keep it with mine." ~Dexter Morgan

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:iconratinrage:
ratinrage Featured By Owner Apr 21, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
:wave: thanks for the :llama:  
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:icondonwhitt:
donwhitt Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Like your work! Keep it up
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:iconcricketumpire:
cricketumpire Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer

Thank you so much for delivering the very encouraging llama Marlana   :iconllamatruckplz:

 
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:icontolosati:
tolosati Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2017
teşekkür ederim
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:iconsharkitty:
Sharkitty Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist

Dropping by to say hello, and that I hope you're doing okay. 
:heart:
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