mar @licensetoconfuse - Tumblr Blog

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ my personal and main blog ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ::

marelia.substack.com ♓︎ writer, sentimental being, patron saint of run-on sentences

I want to go home, though I don't know where that is anymore I try to stay in the present but it so quickly becomes the past I look for something to hold onto but everything seems just beyond my grasp. My grief consumes me. A grief I've known for so long I can call it by my own name. There's a sadness so constant, so permanent, it exists as a limb. I can recognize it as my reflection; it takes form as the body I'm in. I flex my calf, I flex my arms. "look I am strong!" Silver linings for carrying this weight for so long. Why can't I put it all down? If I am someone who leaves, can I leave this behind, too? With each passing year, I wonder if it follows me or if I keep it tethered like a dog on a leash. Consistency is comfort. Does it keep me safe? Keep me comfortable? I let it go, it comes back. I let it go, it comes back. A loyal companion. I am married to this sadness; this anger, this grief. I look towards the light, longing. My loyal companion gnashes its teeth. So, I retreat. Back into the static. Is this home? I don't want to be seen, but I want to be heard. Do I? I don't want to be loved, but I want to be held. Do I? I want to be wanted, I want to be discarded. I want to be needed, I want to be beaten. I want to be remembered, I want to be forgotten. Do I? I do. Do I? I fear this weight has stunted my growth. I look for what kills, tell myself it helps me to cope. Dig out the poison root, only to crave its fruit. So, I'll starve; emaciate myself. With nothing to consume, can it be tamed? I don't want to get bitter, I want to get better. Do I? I do. Do I? I do. I go outside to see sometimes. I get a taste of the light, of it's warmth. And again, I long. What's to be done when getting better seems adulterous; an infidelity; an uncomfortable dishonesty; a sin. It's a nasty divorce; an unamicable separation. When I think that it's subsided, I feel it linger like a shadow in the corner of the room. And I can't help but try and face it; catch it in the act, red-handed. But, when I try to fix my gaze in its direction, it moves. And still, it looms. I am someone who leaves. Can I leave this too?

empty bottles on the counter

And I wake up on the floor

I don’t remember what I said last night

But I can’t promise that it won’t happen anymore

I had a place that I called home

But we don’t talk anymore

And I still feel like that girl stuck inside the frame

I don’t remember getting bigger but I don’t recognize my face

The moon is wearing red tonight

Reflecting the whites of my eyes

You said it wasn’t your intention, but it never is

Is there a means to end with all the truth that you’ve bent

I had a place that I called home

But we don’t talk anymore

I made a home inside that burning house

So focused on the warmth I didn’t even wanna get out

Somewhere there’s a locket with a broken clasp

With a picture of you

You look so different than when I saw you last

When you left me on this shelf

Now I have nothing left to lose

I had a place that I called home

But we don’t talk anymore

I so desperately want to feel human. I so desperately want to feel anything at all. I am so full of anger, pain, and poison; a war resides inside of me.

I seek pain disguised as pleasure. A love so lonely and full of violence that I don't want to get out of. A stab in my side in the form of art and expression. A love so loveless I feel nothing but static. Validation to be a soft spot to land, pain mistaken for pleasure. My pain for their pleasure.

Do I want to feel human or do I want to feel pain? Is pain what makes me feel human? There is so much comfort in misery, being hurt is being home. Pain is consistent, to abandon it would be unfaithful of me.

Getting better feels fraudulent. There is a certain kind of freedom in being self destructive. To burn the bridges surrounding me, to leave no one behind if I do decide to go.

I don't want to live a life worth living, I want to lead a life I'd be content with leaving.

Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

At least that’s what they say

Why do I fear the only thing I’ve ever craved?

I think that I’d do anything for love, to be loved.

I’m fooling myself.

That wasn’t love.

Maybe what I mean is that I’d do anything to be held.

Even if it is at the other end of their knife.

Though, I fear touch too.

I think I’m confused.

To have value? To be of use?

Of use. A familiar place I’ve grown up in.

I’ve never been clean.

What’s a few more impressions on my skin.

On this body, this grave.

I miss pretending to be loved.

Drawing up excuses for every push and shove.

I miss pretending that I didn’t hear him say her name.

I miss rewriting what happened back in May.

It’s all in my head, I’m lying, that’s not what I meant, that never happened.

I’ll forget the glimpses in and out of consciousness.

I’ve always been good for satisfying urges.

Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be.

A familiar place I’ve grown up in.

I ran away from that once,

Only to end up in the arms of that same existence.

But, I loved pretending to be loved. I did.

He could do — and I could be — anything he wanted.

Why wasn’t that enough? Why am I never enough?

But I was too much. Wasn’t I?

A shapeshifter for any desire.

A doormat, a punching bag, a body, a toy.

Content to just be there

A passing time for when he was bored.

Stop it. He didn’t want you.

I miss pretending to be loved.

The in between of it all.

When I was held and pet.

Even if sometimes it only served as a trail to a bed.

The periods of consolation and reparation.

I craved the pain inflicted.

Never minding the wounds on my flesh, because he was there compensating for the mess.

He could do whatever he wanted, I wanted him to do whatever he wanted.

Because when morning came, so did the kindest man I’d ever known.

Why am I still living in my father’s home?

I miss pretending to be loved.

To be held, even if it’s in between their teeth.

A dog on a leash, taken to be put down.

Wagging its tail the whole way there.

Happy to be a part, of use, held, pet.

I miss pretending to be loved.

Tell me then what to expect

From someone who I haven’t met

In a crowd I can’t help but feel alone when I can hardly recognize this face as my own

Is your body a cage

Like mine?

Do the waters keep running?

I can’t see far down the line

I’m surrounded by this double paned glass

I’ve been on the other side before

But I don’t think I could ever go back

I’ve made a home inside this hunger

A labyrinth of pain

The ice has thawed

But it leaves a shiver I can’t shake

Tell me Is your body a cage

Like mine?

Does the fog ever clear?

I can’t see far down the line

How do you make those broken pieces look so pretty?

Mosaics dressed as bodies all around me

I’ll make the edges sharp

minimize the casualties

Is your body

A cage like mine?

I have nowhere left to run

I can’t see far down the line

I can’t see far down that line

I can’t see far down that linehdkakfjskkfjdlfkd

07.25.22

Reasons & Reminders

I tell the same stories over and over again

And you’re listening

Like it’s the first time that you’ve heard them

I know how you like your coffee

You know how I take mine

Next to you is my favorite way to pass the time

And I'm holding on

Through this storm

‘cause when it gets as cold as it does

You have kept me warm

I've gotten all the letters and the postcards

And hung them on the wall

You have nothing to gain from this conversation

But you’ll always take my call

And I’m holding on

Through this storm

‘cause when it gets as dark as it does

You lead me back home

I'll take what’s been prescribed

To ease my troubled mind

They say to make a list of reasons and reminders

And you are all of mine

07.21.22

No Echo

the doctor is holding the baby

the preachers say to see it as a blessing

But my body’s still holding the weight of a man who’s been living a life of pretending

So I’ll meet you at the border

You tell me that you’re better

say that you went and found god

but it’s just your reflection in the water

i can’t keep you warm

I won’t hold you close

And I can’t compete with whoever you see

in the corner of your eye when you’re looking at me

I’ll crave your consolation

You’ll tender the wounds and I’ll confuse it for affection

You can hold me at the end of your knife if

It means I’m being held at the end of the night

Can you keep me warm?

Please just hold me close

And I can pretend that you meant what you said

Ignore that it serves as a trail to a bed

If I could believe everything again

You could succeed in pulling me back in

You were not a refuge or some haven or a home

You were just a body that held a familiar place and I hate being alone

7/9/22

Skin

So soft in memory

The burn I feel is not so fleeting

In the dark the lines are blurred

In reminiscence, the truth obscured

A constant crave for consolation

A tendered wound; confused affection

To find it a privilege to fold in your teeth

With confidence I can say that you felt deeply for me

Whether hate or love or curiosity

So I’ll continue to peel the paint in your shape

Let calluses form for fragility’s sake

You were not a home or a refuge

But a body that held

A familiar place

5.28.22

The ice has thawed

But it leaves a shiver I can’t shake

I’ll make the edges sharp

Minimize the casualties as I plan for the escape

I’ve made a home inside this hunger

A labyrinth of pain

Catalyst for chaos

Embodiment of entropy

Surrounded by the mirrors always facing me

Leaving left to wonder

All the world that I won’t see

5.25.22

Put me in my place

Make me second guess my name

Lay the eggshells across the floor

I’ll wear the blame, I know that’s all I’m good for

Compromised my beliefs

You could get mean and show me your teeth

I don’t care for the truth when I’m lonely

I don’t care if I bleed if you’d hold me

Now my hands are tied and I’m on my knees

Isn’t that how you like me? Isn’t that how you like me?

You liked me better in the dark

Was it harder for you to tell us apart

When it gets colder and she won’t answer

I’ll still be here

Isn’t that how you like me? Isn’t that how you like me?

longing

the old house on the corner is halfway boarded up.

the fence remains unmended and it’s covered in rust.

my body’s in the basement waiting for you

these days are much too long for longing for a hand that won’t reach for mine.

do you want me around? do you look for me in a crowd?

I'll make myself as small as you can imagine to fit inside of your world.

do you like the taste of loneliness on my lips when they meet yours?

I'll stare at this wall until I see faces, to keep me company

as I sit in this space, waiting for the next time you want me

I'll try to make myself at home in this waiting room

for you? there is nothing that I wouldn’t do

I'm not too keen on convenience when that’s all we have in store.

I'm sure you’re sick of hearing me ask for just a little more.

but I'll stare at this wall until I can see your face

I'll get used to the weight of carrying this, if that’s how you’ll stay

again & again

keep the door closed

leave the curtains drawn

I've been standing in the corner for far too long

smaller and smaller, I slowly come undone

I am my mother’s daughter, I am my father’s son

the rain will fall again

she’s holding me close

she’s breathing me in

the rain will fall again

I'm watching from the sidelines

they’ll get loud and I'll get thin

I want to be clean

an unfamiliar feeling, I was born in the ring

they’re packing up and saying their goodbyes

my body’s made of anger

it should come as no surprise

the rain will fall again

I'm betting my life on a losing game

the rain will always fall again

I'm raising my flag

I'm letting it win

softer

you left the water running. you're lying on the tile

the mirrors fogging up, who’s looking back at you now?

you never planned to overstay your welcome

but, that letter never met your mother’s eyes

you’ve been living in the past, you say that’s where you should’ve stayed.

can’t be a better daughter, you were made inside a grave.

jealous of the coats hanging pretty in the closet, you lit the match and set the room ablaze.

maybe, if you were softer, someone would hold you close.

you still have growing pains from outgrowing your body.

you promise not to take up too much space.

you’ll be a good little girl. you’ll act middle aged.

a problem child with no problems of her own.

swear you’ll take the leap from stories up above

the stories that you wish you had made up.

and maybe, when you are softer, you won’t be so afraid of their touch.

you’ll stay for their sake

be fine with the fact, this cough syrup won’t take the cold away

acetone

the light seeping through my blinds sets my skin on fire.

I will die with this thorn in my side.

I'm tired of peeling my skin, looking for a reason for anything at all.

my mother told me to stand up straight

I've been 25 since seventh grade

don't wanna hear what those walls have to say

never had that white picket fence, couldn’t even make the rent

still can’t afford the love that I have spent.

she’s still here and I can’t think clearly because she’s still screaming for attention.

she lingers like the smell of acetone, trying to avoid coming to a house that never felt like home.

covered up in wounds that never healed, never had the space to feel.

destined to a life of constant rehabilitation, pouring myself out without any limitations.

staring at the ceiling, trying not to drown but the quiet can get so loud.

I wear my cynicism on my sleeve,

trying to pretend that I don’t care when they decide to leave.

she’s still here, I can’t recognize your good intentions.

spiraling in all directions. she lingers like the scar across my forehead. trying to outrun all the skeletons living in my closet.

september

I slept on the fence last night, it’s time to make my bed.

there’s coffee on the counter and a voice inside my head.

I promise not to make a scene if you promise not to leave.

I know an exchanging of words doesn't mean anything.

with one foot in the door and the other across the street, I'll blame being locked out on misplacing my key.

I'll try to make it better, keep an eye on my temper but

I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, you’re wearing yours where I can’t see.

I want to go back to September, laying in your arms in the middle of the desert.

this isn’t something I'll grow out of like an old sweater. I meant when I said forever.

I will leave my window open. come in the screen is broken.

competing with my ceiling fan, seeing who spins faster.

I know you didn’t sign up for a roller coaster.

I promise you I'll always feel this way, but I understand it’s not enough to make you stay.

still lying on the concrete with my skull cracked open.

all my thoughts spilled out.

falling broken them out of prison

you know I'm clumsy, but I swore I saw you at the bottom.

I would jump again for you to hold me.

I guess I'm just another lovesick casualty.

never really

we’ve been here before. is it more than you bargained for?

I'm getting nauseous watching you walk through the same revolving door.

and now I'm homesick for a parking lot and the way you’d say my name

we were so foolish to think that it wouldn’t end the same.

it’s my mistake. I misplaced my happy place only to find it in you.

tell me the truth, was I just a memory to add to your box of blues? were you unamused?

I'm still dizzy from having the tables constantly turned on me.

you were so good at calling me stupid and making it sound so sweet.

and you loved the sound of when I'd say I'm sorry.

it wasn’t your intention, but it never is.

we’ve made it a tradition to fall out of place.

I warned you not to look so close or stare for too long.

now I can’t even bring myself to listen to that song.

I’m rough around the edges, I'm no good with my hands.

you never let me in or try to help me understand.

I hope you find a pair that you haven’t outgrown

I see you’ve woken up, she’s right above you.

it’s time to go.

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