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Marcia Probst

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The Damn

When I got the news fear of the unknown made me cry.
But the rain was behind shameful hands which trembled.
I saw rocks around me, and though I felt like flowing sand in the sea I fought to hold to my place.
I was not going to die they said. I could help myself and live a normal life.
And yet it has invaded every part of me
An infestation of myself runs rampant.

Needles, food, and blood are drowning me everyday.

The call came in while I was away the day my brother and I became one in our eternal plague.
I tore and screamed and shouted aloud for all to hear and witness.
My rage was a flood cascading over everything in it's path.
He was not supposed to feel my pain and sorrow. I was to bear it alone, as always before, while he lived a happy, healthy life.
I told him he always took my glory over the phone.
This time instead of hands, the phone hid my torrent of tears.

Together we are plunged into murky depths.

Grandma is being pulled in too, but won't admit that she is standing knee deep in our pool of anguish.
I watch her deny it all each time a new wave laps around her feet.
Someday I feel the undertow will drag her, and pull her to us.
When it does I don't think she will make it.

Trickles are breaking out anew all around me.

My mother at least sees the storm coming at her.
She is checking her levies, they are leaking so she is teaching herself to swim before the flood.
Her awareness adds another layer to her damn.
But will it keep it all from falling down and sweeping her away?

How did I open the floodgates on everyone I know?

Who else will join us as we kick and paddle in the flow?
Will they be ready?
Run from me, I've broken the damn!

Needles, blood, and food are drowning me everyday.

The Edge of Insanity

If I were falling off the edge of insanity who would be the one they sent to save me?
Would it be the fastest in fear that I would cascade at any moment?
Or the smartest, who could devise a plan to safely put me in the correct position?
Maybe the gentlest, who could bring me back with love and affection?
Would the strongest be sent to drag me back kicking and screaming?
Maybe a fool to show me what I may be and change the error in my ways.
Or would there be anyone at all?

A Fish Named Darwin

I have a fish named Darwin.
I like my fish.
I feed him, provide him a home, change his water.
I wonder what it would be like to watch him in the wild.
Would his characteristics change?
I named Darwin after the scientist.
I never really found what he said wholly true.
Of course to be fair I never really studied him much either.
All the same, I like holding Darwin's life in my hands,
Or bowl actually.

The Guise of a Man

Smile little boy.
Don't hide your fears behind the guise of a man.
If you can't let me hold you or listen, then at least let me sit near by.
You don't have to share it out loud.
But don't try to block it all in either.
You don't always have to be as strong as you want to be.
Just be as strong as you are.
In the end you will be twice the man you are trying so hard to be.

Holding Arms

You held me last night and it felt good to be in your arms.
For those moments were special to me.
I know you don't feel the same way I do.
That's okay.
I know you have feelings for others.
That's okay.
I'll just let you hold me in your arms all the same.

I held you within my own arms last night.
It felt good to know that for a moment I was the right person for you.
I know I won't always be that one.
That's okay.
I know this hasn't changed how you feel.
That's okay.
I'll just hold you until you don't need me anymore.

We held each other in warms arms and cried tonight.
I was there for you and your were there for me.
I know we will probably never do it again.
That's okay.
I know it will be others who hold your heart.
That's okay.
I'll have other arms too.

I Dream Alone

When I sit alone at night I dream.
Sometimes blood curdling horrors run from the corners
And threaten to tear the flesh back from my
Mutilated soul.

Sometimes I just ache with the strain
Of all of life's little whims and wants. Feeling each fiber of
Each muscle groan at the abuse it has tolerated
One more day.

An excellent bliss sometimes over comes me,
And I cannot help but smile at the ceiling in all it's glory as I
Ponder the magnificence around me. I even go so far as to
Giggle with the walls at the supreme wonder of
It all.

Many times I will snuggle into the warmth
And security of my own bed. Drifting off satisfied with
How I have lived that day alone
At the very least.

But a lot of the time I wish I didn't have
To dream alone
At all.

I Hate

I hate.
Why can't you feel it's burn?
Don't cling to me and try and shape me with your love.
I hate.
Why don't you feel it consuming everything good?
Don't hold onto me and try to pull me back from my stupor.
I hate.
Why can't you see me eating your heart, consuming your soul?
Don't cry out for me and morn my losses.
I hate.
Why don't your realize I am ravaging your mind and body easily?
Don't look at me or touch me please for,
I hate.

Keeping the Bad Things Away

When I was a little girl my mommy tucked me in at night to keep the bad things away.

When I was a teenager monsters within myself began to bump and grind causing confusion and disarray.

As a young woman I am trying to see through the gray for to where the black and white lines used to stay.

And I am beginning to understand why my mom wants to tuck me in to this day.

Knock at the Door

Take a deep breath, how do you feel?
Is the world reaching and clawing at your toes?
Do you find yourself wondering if it is even real?
Blink and look around you, tell me did you see friends or foes?

Knocking at my door the devil comes to call my name.
His face is pure and sweet, no flaw to point out it's wrong.
As the angel he was does he simply point out all of my shame.
I weep with the loss of what is not to be found and a wail of remorse is now my song.

Holding up his arms he offers innocence for my devotion and love.
Standing aside he shows me his multitudes, behind him a sea.
A beautiful smile at the head of many, how am I to see he's not from above?
And with shame such as mine is it right for me to question in truth?

Another knock at the door which opens to reveal the Father this time.
A grimy face looks at me in the clothes of a thug,
Filthy hands reach out to ask for my hard earned dime.
Through my mind slides real of violence past and yet he asks me to gift it all with a hug.

Take a deep breath, how do you feel?
Is the world reaching and clawing at your toes?
Do you find yourself wondering if it is even real?
Blink and look around you, tell me did you see friends or foes?

Laughter and Smiles

You aren't attracted to my charm and my wit.

You don't notice my infectious smile,

Or the way I laugh out loud.

Have you ever seen the way people flock to me?

They come to me for love, advice, for many things.

Why can't you come to me at all?

I won't chase after you and tell you how much I care.

If someday you see me, I'll look back,

And if someday you love me, I might do the same.

But till then I'll go back to my laughs, smiles, and friends.

Maybe someone will notice my charm and wit.

Or like my laugh and my smile.

And maybe I'll love them and share with them all my secrets.

They might be the one whom I turn from the flocks for.

The one who will hold my laugh and my heart.

Then you, who didn't ever see me, will never feel my love,

Know my depth and the real reason for my laugh and smile.

And you will never know what it truly measures

For me to hold you tight.

The Mayor

I was with the future mayor last night.

Not that he will be the mayor tomorrow but he's trying.

He's young.

And he was drunk.

But he was a good man.

It was funny,

I, a girl not used to much attention,

And him, someone who one day, no is, important.

We had fun. We danced.

We kissed.

Nothing more ever has to come.

For that night he made me feel sexy and wanted.

I was with the future mayor last night,

But he made me feel like he was with me.

My Name

My name is dirt, kick me off your shoes.
I am trash, to be thrown out and left behind.
My name is mud, push me aside to build yourself a world.
I am shit, to be flushed away and forgotten as refuse.
Kick me, throw me out, push me aside, forget me.
It's what I want, crave, desire, deserve.
Please just do as I ask and don't give me a cause to hope.
Hope is my bane, hope will kill me, hope has driven me mad.
My name Is dirt, kick me off your shoes.
Let me live satisfied with what you throw aside,
For what you throw aside is what I am.

Promise To Hold Me

Last night you were lonely and drunk.
So you held me.
Last night she didn't want you.
So you held me.
Last night she tore you apart blindly.
So you held me.

I know why you held me,
I know you don't want me.
Please just promise to hold me again.

Last night your realized you were leading me on.
You walked away.
Last night you remembered I care for you like you do for her.
You walked away.
Last night you didn't want to hurt me.
You walked away.

I know why you left me,
I know you don't want me.
Please just promise to hold me again.

Last night you made me feel funny.
This is why I love you.
Last night you made me feel smart.
This is why I love you.
Last night you made me feel beautiful.
This is why I love you.

Please just promise to hold me again.

Pulling Wool

I'm pulling the wool over my own eyes.
Make believe was always my favorite game.
Now I just have a different reason to play.
Deception and denial are truly such cruel words.
Living with depression is only a delusion that drags you down.
Everyone always told me I was creative.
And imagination was one of my favorite things.
So what do I care if I play hide and seek with the truth?
Just be glad that I am pulling the wool over your eyes too.

Remembering

I stopped caring a long time ago.
I stopped being, living, breathing to save myself.
I stopped, and now I just want to stop again.

I believed I was beyond love in my agony and pain.
I believed tomorrow was just another step toward the release of the end.
I believed, and now I just want to truly believe again.

I embraced the hollow husk I was as the last refuge of me.
I embraced my hurt and scorn as the only things I would ever know.
I embraced, and now I just want to embrace it all again.

I cried to look like the normal person they all wanted to see.
I cried to hide the fact that I exalted in what they were morning.
I cried, and now I wish my tears were only lies again.

I stopped. I believed. I embraced. I cried.
And now I just wish I didn't remember.

Sometimes All It Takes

Sometimes all it takes is a little touch.
You held me hand for an instant at a time.
Not the firm grasp of someone who is unsure in themselves

And wants to make a big impression.

Or the meek grasp of one who is to shy.
Just a light pressure to let me know you wanted me there.

Sometimes a slight glance is enough.
Not a headlong stare designed to test wills.
Or a gaze deep into my eyes with all the love you

Can muster from deep within your core.

Just the look of a friend is all you need.
And sometimes this is enough.

Trains

I don't think about trains,

It's never really appealed to me.

I'd rather have a drunk railway conductor then a pilot.

Fewer directional skills needed.

Although I guess in the end it doesn't really matter to much to a dead

Person what is was they crashed and burned in.

I have an image of conductors and pilots.

I think if I had to see either one drunk I'd rather it be the pilot.

Just because my conductor image is to "grandpa" ish.

It rather funny though.

I never knew either grandfather, and neither was a conductor.

One of the coolest things I ever saw

Was a guy who had built a HUGE

Railway set that encompassed his entire basement.

Each train had a tiny conductor.

What I Love

I love with all my heart the memories of warmth I have of days gone past.

I love the tears I have shed unashamed in front of the harshest crowds.

I love the way a smell can take you back to grandma, or sunny days, or rainy nights.

I love the way my dad has always been a kid at heart and my mom a hopeless romantic.

I love the way the world looks with your head tilted to the side, and the smiles that look back.

And I love that I will find a million more things to love before I am through.

When You're Happy

It's funny when you're a happy person there's not much to write about.
People in love can ooze about this or that.
Mad or angry people can ramble on for hours about their rages.
Depressed people often tend to get more depressed from writing it down, and so then have much more to write about.
Although what doesn't depress depressed people?
But if you're just happy it's like your thoughts just aren't nearly good enough to put down on paper.
Or maybe it's just that we don't want the mad and depressed people to get madder and more depressed because of our bliss.
Maybe we just don't want them to write anymore.

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