Bruise

Bruise

By: Marie Castiano

you, you non-artificial reminder of a last physical altercation. you, some mark left by a sentiment that i'd rather not remember. you, mocking all the fibers of my delicate skin, aching in every movement of my muscle. changing your colors, as quick as I've changed my emotions, changed my thinking, in the things that i'm feeling, nothing left standing except for you. all I've got left is a memory, and your the only trigger to that obscene vision, I left it unconfined, but when i moved my body, it was you i envisioned. i wish i could erase you from the surface of my skin, remove all the feeling from inside and within. pick and tear away the layers that somehow make up your existence. the foulness, the cruelty, the hatred, left within that one particular spot. i try to keep my eyes from it, but quickly realize its my only thought. it's eroded into the membrane, left shot by the nerve cells in my spine. sanity gives way to the wish, of not wanting it to be mine. and yet it's still you, the embodiment of my lowest sadness. you, the reminder of the weakest I've ever been, you, you, and only you, the creation of a passion lost, a love that has disappeared, you are the face of your creator, you are the answer to that painful resolution, you are within me forever, my external and internal, bruise. by: marie castiano

.Regretted Creation.

By:

Marie Castiano

I Wish I knew what psycho,

created a being like me,

Created under setting sun,

forgotten by the sea,

Was born with just one thought inside,

A thought I now deceive,

And yet I blend with perfect sense with others,

Not like me.

I hide intentions perfectly,

you never saw them once,

And yet you knew,

that something odd has taken over me,

I guess you could look,

beyond what you see,

But before me lies, so many lies, that tie around my throat,

I lie and lie,

to just get by,

to get away from truth.

If I get away from truth,

then I can run away from you,

Im not afraid to go away,

disappeared in a breeze so cold

You shiver from the thoughts,

like madness wrapped around its shell

I could not redefine the place,

I was blown away by hate.

And yet I suffocate,

And yet I recreate.

I wish I knew what psycho,

Created a being like me.

11.13.10 mc

.Imaginary.

Imaginary

By: marie castiano

Enticing and seductive as it is,

I must regretfully decline,

The invitation you have placed in my spine,

How tempting,

the remark of it all,

How boldly you placed,

each ligament to induce mine,

Frightened me,

and made me smile at the same time.

I have a certain path,

that has been carved for me to walk,

Shame on me,

to let you,

talk me out of walking in this line,

How good it must have felt,

for you,

to see me,

break my guidelines,

Ashamed I was,

that I too felt somewhat gratified.

Allowing for lies to set in deep,

Unraveled the verbal secrecy,

And allow them to not be such blasphemy.

My hand melted into yours,

And so it was not forced upon,

Whatever journey we sailed on.

It was not right,

And it was not wrong.

Eyes Now look at what our souls show off,

They did not agree,

Mostly about you and me,

Or what was laid in secrecy.

Whatever sounds our voices made,

Were heard throughout the universe,

The universe looked bleakly upon,

what made the beautiful sounds,

And found us intertwined,

in perfect harmony.

As I remember now,

why I rejected such tempting invitation,

The owner of this spine,

Walked across the lawn,

And did not see the journey

I was once upon.

What was hidden in the darkness,

Remained there.

Ashamed?

Not I.

Not Anymore.

Not after I experienced the freedom placed there.

I Shall allow for the memory,

To decay in its crevice,

And allow it,

to find me again,

Whenever my life creates,

The need for my soul to escape.

11.15.10. mc

11.14.11.mc

.whats in this obligation,

only i receive,

that everyone is enjoying time,

except me.

watching all these people,

growing in reverse,

standing in slow motion,

watching it from earth.

i report that these,

workers really do seem

rather,

content and happy.

but more and more i see

children running to the streets,

yelling to their elders,

dont you see me?

im not that grown up yet,

for you to leave me on my own!

do you hear what im saying?

im not that grown!

and as i watch these smaller people,

cry out to the skies,

the pain welds up inside me,

and i begin to cry.

a storm forms on the coast,

slowly starting to get worse.

parents look up to the sky,

and see their children faces

reflected in the skies.

the storm is made,

from the rage

in their souls.

i report what happens,

to the parents on the shores.

and thus it takes a storm,

and something much more.

children see through the masks

their parents often front.

forgetting little faces,

and placed them in the mud.

reporting now is over,

and though i often see,

little smiles on the shores,

smiling up at me.

01.14.11.mc