Poetry and Playthings

I write poems, I put them here, the end.

[queenmaddyblake-blog]

Poems from my insta because I'm awful.

[queenmaddyblake-blog]

He asked why I wasn't sleeping (14November2016 01:30)

How do I tell you I have nightmares about you walking away. About falling to pieces as I chase you As you chase her As he laughs. When I found out about you and her it was nothing No secret, no shock But for three days I wouldn't talk I wouldn't laugh I wouldnt look at peoole who'd pass I was a zombie Mourning both body and mind robbed of me. I drank myself into a stupor. Went to school hungover I guess you never did know since it all went your way. I did man up and sleep with you anyway. You hold no guilt here. It was an over reaction I used you to figure head the spear This has always been my weakest time of year. Im sorry i can't shake that memory of you. Trust me. Ive wanted to. Wish. I could have gone back and pretended I meant more than I did. Im sorry, For all I hid from you. I promise, Youll never see the effects of the damage anyway. QMB

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Reaction To The Question (13November2016)

You complicate my world Your words, My actions, Our history Your body... Complicated. And I'll admit it's made me jaded Tried to walk away But you made it Impossible. Its possible. That our destinies are tied together Written on every star across the cosmos The universe loves us most. Together You were always my future Why you gotta go and Marry her.. We are the perfect kind of crazy The kind that cant stay away No matter how hurt How angry We..draw back together We've seemed to weather Every single storm, No matter how ship wrecked We always drift back, We're two pieces of broken jigsaw puzzles, We fit other places But intertwine our spaces and we make the prettiest picture together. I wish you never met her, I wish you still only loved me, I really hope she makes you happy. Baby.. You were my superman. She was your Louis, Left me, loveless. I guess I'll be my own super hero, Prolly just be Harley Quinn though,. Weve got a lot in common, Can't walk away from our man, Even.. When he doesnt want us anymore, We love him anyway. Of course At the end of the day, At least..we're in the same universe.. -QMB

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Tough Girl Act 2November2016

I am five foot three One hundred and nineteen pounds soaking wet And I think my favourite phrase might be "fight me" Throw my arms out wide, Look up at my opponent and say "take a swing bro" I am not good at picking my fights They are usually guys with a few inches and about 100 pounds on me. I will fight them anyway. Fuck the woman card Hit me mother fucker, See what happens. Sometimes they tell me to "dial back the tough girl act" Say "yes Maddy we know you can kick that guys ass, no you dont have to prove it" Just becuase I wear heels doesn't mean I won't curb stomp a bitch. "Tone down the tough girl act" Like I haven't had to fight my way up amd out of this world Like I haven't had to scream to be heard, Like I don't have to climb into 6 inch death traps To look you in the eyes when I call you a dumbass My finger nails are razor sharp, But Ill use them To castrate the next mother fucker to say "Honey will you pipe down you don't know what you're talking about" They'll still be a pretty shade of pink when you're on your knees. Tough girl isn't an act. Its a survival mechanism Called "feminine" This is my anthem Im not a tough girl, Im just tough, And I won't dial it down. QMB

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Halloween Prepping at the Beach (18September2016)

Hunting for seashells is some if the best fun you can get on a beach. Finding a fully formed little masterpiece, Presented to you by the ever tumbling tide. When you're a kid, You don't realise that beaches are the world's biggest graveyards, That those perfectly formed twists of calcium, Are just some sea-creature's skeleton. I wonder, That when when my body turns to bone, Will something much bigger than me, Come looking For my skull, all the teeth intact, For my ribs, for my spine? It come back for the fingers that penned poems for generations? I wonder, if they'll deem me worthy Or toss me back to blonde beaches, In search of a skeleton with prettier pieces, Than my own. QMB

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He's Getting Married. (15September2016)

I keep looking at virgin pages, And I refuse to christen them with stories of you. They're too innocent. Too new, For such things. But my holy water graces Keep turning to brimstone baptisms. I hope you burn one day. I hope your whole body feels like hell fire. When you think of me, I hope you realise youre burning And the only thing That can quench you, Is me. I won't be there to wash your flames away. You already turned me to ashes. Burned me up and flicked me away like an old cigarette. I wish my pages could be met with happier memories But when you've been this close to an open flame for so long.. Everything you touch turns to soot... You really left your mark on me. -QMB

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To friends, in college or rehab (NoDate)

In every picture we've taken together You were high, Drunk, Or had your tongue out. In every memory I have of you Substance is somewhere You are my best friend With a changing addiction. But you have always been mine. My greatest highs Have been standing by your side Completely sober. I don't want this weekend to be over. But I'm so thankful you've chosen to see me. Let me have more fantastic memories. Ive missed you more than you've missed weed. You're peaceful Because we're at a point of fully comfortable silence Content just crossing auras in a room as peaceful as the quieter sides of the cosmos. You are the most Beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. My best friend. My heart still beating All because of you. I don't wanna leave. But this visit is ending soon. Im so thankful for the memory. So grateful. You've remembered me, At all QMB

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My Apology Poem (13September2016)

I can still pick your voice out of a crowd from behind closed doors. I dont know why I ever noticed it before, I am very aware when you walk into a room. I do not love you, I do not want you, The idea of lusting for you is the shadow of a memory I stopped trying to bury. You're infatuating. Intimidating. You're judgmental and hurtful and lovely. I wish You weren't around me. Wish you were a memory Like an old party I can try to remember fondly. We are broken glass, More cracks Than visibility. Im trying to glue all the pieces together again. I want to be your friend. Quinn.... I still remember how you take your coffee, Still have the note you wrote me. Never deleted the emails you'd write me nightly, I miss being your friend. I hope... You feel the same. QMB

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Jazz Moves Me More Than You Ever Will (7September2016)

Smooth jazz, and chocolate in the dark. Oh, what an ode to sensation. To relaxation. Whole body, Feeling more bubbly than a glass of champagne, Run away to retreading fantasy, To day dreams Of dancing to good swing, In high shoes, With a suave man in a sharp suit, Day dream in the dark Of the simple times. Finish your chocolate. Let the Creole moans of a dying trumpet fade away into the silence. Remember, You'll always have these little windows, And day dreams; Of the simple days QMB

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Scars Fade (5September2016)

Another scar. On a body seemingly made of imperfections. Of stretch marks And cellulite and scar tissue. Every inch of me has history From discolouration, To freckle pattern To burn mark to razor cut. My body screams "Lived in" Says "Ask me" Beams "I have a story". Every nick and burn and broken bone. Every surgery and recovery Every inch of me.. Screams lived in. And I wont be ashamed of that. QMB

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Alexander (4September2016)

You're on my mind tonight. Your memory Dancing across every consciousness. I thought I was over this. Thought id stop hearing your name in thunderstorms. Stop seeing your eyes when I closed my own. You're here. And I'm not sure if I want you to be. I love you to death, platonically. But youll always be something more to me. You are the excitement and the whirlwind, You are my eyeless storm. Someday you'll kill me. But tonight you're on my mind, And I will get through, As I always do. Because your rainstorm can keep trying to drown me. ...but I've always loved to swim. QMB

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Ode to Slocum (27August2016)

Farm country is eerie at night, We don't have street lights, But the shadows cast by moonlight Are still enough to put you on edge. Here.. The roads wind on forever. Especially in winter, Turn from pavement to sheet rock, to gravel, to dirt to death trap. You can always hear the coyotes creeping just beyond the tree lines. Close your eyes. You wouldn't know you were half an hour from Wilkes-Barre. Its much too quiet here. Open your eyes and still see nothing but shadows Forty five minutes from the electric city And the only light I can see Is from porch lamps and headlights. Farm country Is scary at night. You can see every star in the infinite sky, Taste the breeze that cuts through the corn fields and the smoke it carries. The scent of state game land after a rain storm never seems to fade here. This is a place of earth, Of land and soil. This is where the coal miners ran, When they needed to see the sun again. And were blinded by what they saw. Welcome to NEPA farm country. The locals arent often friendly. Take pride in the name "Hillbilly" We look out for our own here We're just beyond the boundaries of "Somewhere." Not quite the middle of nowhere But we are damn close. Farm country. In all its eminent beauty... Hopefully. A few of us, Will get out of here someday. QMB

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Another poem about Alex. (23August2016)

I say your name like a prayer. Let the four syllables fall from my lips when I'm scared, When I'm hopeless I feel nothing but emptiness, I let your name fall from my lips like a spell, Like a secret. Whisper it Under my breath like a good luck charm. Let those nine letters remind me That I have someone behind me. No matter how far away you are. Your name. Is enough to get me through. I just really hope, You have someone out there, That can do that for you too. QMB

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ROAD TO BNV (12July2016)

She was a little spitfire. With angry eyes and a colourful tongue You could see her fire hiding behind those thoughtful brown embers. She was small. But with attitude twice her height Strong, spunk and brilliantly bright. With a love for music And no one can match it. Little Suzie spitfire Listening to her hip hop gospel Sweet, beautiful, kind And down right fucking hostel QMB

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GIVE ME THE BOYS 5MAY16

Give me the boys who have bourbon for blood, The ones who are twice as sweet and three times as sharp As the whiskey that fuels their guts. Give me the women, Who have fire in their eyes, And ice I'm their hearts And a touch that can melt the crassness of own skin. Give me the ones that bite. The ones that cut and scratch and hurt. I want the ones that will love so greedily They bleed me dry of words. Give me the ones I can write about. My life is a story And this production will never hit Broadway Give me the backstage back alley crew. At the end of the day... They're exactly where I want to be