All posts by AndreeaM

A Person

 

I can’t control my story

I see that now.

Tell it how you want–I no longer care about being liked

 

I’ve apologized time and time again for being me,

I’m a malfunctioning robot

And I can’t wait to become a person.

If this is rock bottom, pour me another cup

I’ve fallen madly in love with my misery.

Piece by piece, a little every year,

Parts of me have disappeared.

My life is filled with things I’ve outgrown:

Unread books that no longer interest me

Cards from people I no longer care for

Merchandise of things I no longer like

Empty journals of a life I don’t want recorded.

No matter how and what I try, I end up alone,

In this time and place.

Fate must have an explanation.

I need a soldier willing to be the shield around my heart

My body adorned like the Goddess Venus.

The luminous core inside me is spinning—

The heart of the Island still beats

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by AndreeaM on February 7, 2018  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on February 7, 2018

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2018/02/07/a-person/

Surrendering

I lie down empty, awaiting,

My hands open towards the sky

I won’t do anything, not this time

I’ll allow life to run its course.

 

I want to be kidnapped by fate

Tied down by enormity and

Raped by the universe.

I won’t even scream.

 

Just one new person

And suddenly the world grows larger.

Circles widen, halos brighten

 

The other archangel undid my world

Destroyed my voice,

Made a fortress of my body and

Covered me in shame.

 

Mantra, melodious Om

I will not control

I will not take action

I will let myself loose in fantasy

Reaching climax in the hands of fate.

I will give my whole self to a protector

Save me you with the Savior Complex

I want to be covered in Red.

 

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by AndreeaM on February 4, 2018  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on February 4, 2018

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2018/02/04/surrendering/

Parallel Lines

You used to look at me like I was magic

Hands up and down

Feeling, touching, squeezing

As if you’ve never seen one of my kind

A languid admiration

A tactile fascination

Time never seemed enough.

 

Time stopped. Something snapped.

You remained the same polished boy

It was me.

I broke.

I broke a thousand times

Rebuilding myself out of the ashes

Never the same identical woman.

 

Now we’re two pathetic parallel lines

Rigid, never-meeting.

Unable to bend and form one perfect circle.

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by AndreeaM on February 2, 2018  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on February 2, 2018

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/parallel-lines/

Vampyre

Waiting for you is exhausting

Waiting, waiting….time wasting…life draining.

I may bite, but who’s the real vampire?

Waiting for you to get off your mother’s bosom and out of infancy

Waiting for you to get out of your childhood, and over your adolescence

Waiting for you to be done at the bar, the pub, the school, the club

Waiting for you to get here…in this time and place.

Waiting for you to get to this moment now.

I’ve watched you chase every person who had no interest in waiting

While throwing away the hours in my disposable life

Like ancient ruins waiting for the wanderer to return,

I too am tired of waiting

Every gram of fat on my body like lichen

A measure for every moment I have given up

Grams of sand in the hourglass dripping away

Six years off my life—run a stake through my heart already

Throw silver at me and pepper me with garlic

Enough water circling the drain, this great strip tease

I’m no longer aroused by this never-ending foreplay

I see you singing and I no longer hear the music

Wasted six, why not twenty?

Penelope and Odysseus—Ithacan cunts

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by AndreeaM on December 31, 2017  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on December 31, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/12/31/vampyre/

A Single Day at Work

Inner collapse, a break of spirit

Depressive crisis,

Existential condition.

Words to paint the grey of my day

Mayday! My day, not a day in May

The same day wasting away

Every day, if you want to know.

I waste each day like I have thousands

I waste each day like it’s my last

Each time I’m asked who I am

I become a white canvas again.

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by AndreeaM on November 16, 2017  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on November 16, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/11/16/a-buried-disposition/

Angel in Bondage

Forgiveness is suspended in limbo

When your abuser is a victim

You are left empty

No one to blame—just the absence of people.

Everyone declared missing. The whore widow,

The deranged—mad as a hatter—trapped in the rabbit hole

The woman who didn’t ask for any of this,

Thrown upon her all too young.

Who holds the blame?

Who should be shrouded in shame?

Children wrung into adulthood and hung to dry

They walk broken and wounded

On all those days, you see, her Guardian Angel was imprisoned

In shackles and beaten, forced by the Demons to watch

As he was holding in his tears; unable to look away, unable to help.

Swearing that the day he breaks free

He will sacrifice eternity and become mortal trying to mend the tapestry

He will do everything to make her safe

He will embody all the people she needs at the right time.

He will save her.

***

Her body is a side-effect—used and discarded

Nothing is more exciting to her, than the thought of healing.

To cleanse the scarlet ‘R’

There is a bright light inside of her

Glowing spinning sphere

Releasing through her veins like tree-roots filled with energy.

He’s there. I see him. He was all the people. He is the one she loves.

He kept his promise.

She rests cocooned forever under his protection.

Under the warmth of his wing.

She gives a drop of glowing blood to everyone

Because I can,

Because I have to

Because I am.

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by AndreeaM on October 20, 2017  •  Permalink
Posted in Poetry

Posted by AndreeaM on October 20, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/10/20/angel-in-bondage/

My Body

Family

They use my body as a piñata

Something to poke at

Make fun of, scrutinize, judge

Something to criticize, analyze, and magnify

Constantly under examination.

Comparison with others. Be like them.

Caring about my body gives them purpose.

They care you see.

One day the dream: smaller bodies can crawl out of your body.

***

Love

He uses my body for entertainment

Reaching climax every time

Inside my body, on my body, thinking about my body

No one proposes to my body, makes grand romantic gestures

No one announces publicly love towards my body

It’s always in secret.

No one travels with my body,

No one discovers hidden secrets of the universe with my body

He uses my body as an extra body to his musical debut

***

But that’s okay. I’ll watch from afar

While other bodies get loved, are wanted, desired

While other bodies are cared for.

They are beautiful. They are some body, and I am no body.

Or too many bodies, my mother would say.

***

They call me when they need my help

He calls me when he needs support

Encouragement, strength, motivation, advice

They call me when they need to feel better

I am a bright light locked inside a crumbling home.

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by AndreeaM on July 8, 2017  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on July 8, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/07/08/my-body/

A Ghost in the Sheets

The night is thunder

Alone in a house of nine

I wash the clothes of yesterday

They won’t dry—imbued with regrets

Why is a fresh start impossible?

To be a new person tomorrow

And still continue to be myself?

Every day I try a new costume

Hoping it will fit, that it will be right,

Put a smile on this stone face

But it fades

Unlike the stains of yesterday.

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by AndreeaM on June 23, 2017  •  Permalink
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
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Posted by AndreeaM on June 23, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/06/23/a-ghost-in-the-sheets/

Quarantine

I am losing my mind

I see it leaving me

It hangs.

It dangles in the air

Like a suicide’d corpse

I’m making words up again.

And floats on the clouds in the room.

What else is there?

Inside this Siberian Quarantine

Alone in solitary confinement;

The hatch buried in the ground.

My mind won’t come back the same.

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by AndreeaM on May 12, 2017  •  Permalink
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Posted by AndreeaM on May 12, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/05/12/quarantine/

Dark Matter

I’m hugged tightly by a shadow

Over my brain hangs a condensed cloud,

I’ve been injected with fog,

Infected.

The sunrise is distant now

As I lay here tied and etherized,

My wrists hurt and there is no horizon.

I must go to work. I labour for a price.

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by AndreeaM on March 6, 2017  •  Permalink
Posted in Poetry
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Posted by AndreeaM on March 6, 2017

https://aimarin.wordpress.com/2017/03/06/dark-matter/

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