I'm Maresa. 20 years old. growing. i love words, stories, good conversations, stupid jokes, coffee, laughter, and hope.

"I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors."
April 19th
8:00 PM

sleep.

i’d like to fall asleep tonight

i’d like to empty my soul and fall into

nothingness. 

but my eyes close at night upon a soul that tosses and turns

my brain firing blanks at the backs of my eyelids

machine-gun like precision and 

over and over again i see the faces 

breaking my heart like porcelain 

over and over again and it’s

futile to rebuild

futile to believe that promises ring true

that “we the people”

could ever be “we united”

and though we like to say that we help those in need

we’ve forgotten to acknowledge the neediness of our hearts

but inside we are all beggars, vagrants

wandering the streets of self-pity and scorn

hoping for a handout but refusing to acknowledge

that the problem lies in us

and we are the enemies of ourselves. 

we pledge allegiance to a flag that we’ve forgotten

and red white and blue means nothing to us

except a slogan with which to sell our souls

while blood drips from the wounds of those 

in foreign nations 

we gorge ourselves on the blood 

that drips from our hands

and we cry peace but we’ve forgotten

the meaning of the word

as we sip champagne from our crystal glasses

and seek to shut out anything beyond the realm

of me.

me, and i, not we.

because we means coming together

and coming together means acknowledging

everything i’m not.

and i’d rather sit in stony silence and meditate upon

all i wish had

then open my mouth for those 

who have no voice

no voice with which to utter cries of desperation help 

forsaken forgotten we are forbidden to speak

of that which lies outside of our borders and within our hearts

and though i may cry freedom

i can’t recall the taste of it

‘cause i’ve long been enslaved to the state of my mind

that tells me buy buy buy

more more more

and it’ll never be enough

until we drown in the seas of our own selfishness

hands stained green from the money that we grasp

our fists clenched too tight to reach out to our brothers

and this is all we are

and all that we’ve become

and though i’ll close my eyes tonight

i won’t dream of anything 

because sleeping comes with a heavy price.