Rain doesn’t only fall from the sky,
Somehow, it comes out our eyes.

I write for myself.
It's almost impossible to turn my pain into art when it hurts as terribly as it does.
I am on the very edge of growth, hardly a first step.
Every line I write, I can only think of those who lead me here.
Calling them lovers is like calling my best friend a dog.
Sure, he's a canine, but he is no dog. He is a best friend. To me.
Calling them lovers was once accurate, that's how I felt, but now;
They're more. She- Is more. More than the ones I daydream of.
More than the ones coating the walls of my nightmares.
They are not people. They are not women. They are not loves. They are, unexplainable.
I showed Belle my soul. She showed me hers. And we encompassed each other. One step ahead.
Faith too. But she was always two steps back, never forward. And she didn't really love me.
And the most beautiful name, the one society shortened and butchered to simply "Kit-Kat."
She- was more than a fascination. She was an enabler.  Like being the target guiding an arrow,
She lead me, kick-started my life. She was the first.
Or at least, this declining helix spiral I call my current living condition.

Now this winter has come, an annuality to when it started.
I was laughing and learning her gorgeous name at this time last year.
I remember walking around that empty playground awaiting her responses to my petty flirts.
All was well. But I was too slow, and he was too entrancing, mature, for her.
She chose- and it wasn't me she was looking at- it killed me.
I craved her. I dreamed her. I can still recall one specific, for I have it saved.
Here it is:
     "I had a dream late last summer where I awoke in a white room in a comfy white bed.
      The room had a window for an entire wall and outside I could see snow melting off of black,
      naked trees which spread deep in to a forest of the same colors.
      And that's when I noticed a beautiful white face with dark hair and two blue eyes.
      She was just sitting there in light blue underwear and a white tee-shirt and she looked at me and smiled.
      And I moved over and kissed her and I lay over her just staring into those chilled moons for eyes of hers for the longest time."
     "And that for me, is nirvana."
And that for me, was nirvana.
Her and I. Winter. Purity, love. Cold and warm. White, blue, black and brown. The colors us.
God- I miss that. Those dreams. Those fantasies. Getting nearer to that, her voice and laugh.
-

-Part 3, December 9th-

Jami Belle.
My True love.
She entered my life at random, miscellaneously speaking with her about her beauty, injecting more flirtation, as is my way.
Then one day I started to stress. The woman I was trying to court, the one with the gorgeous name too beautiful to be spoken, I was falling for her. Far too quickly. And I needed to let her know, I needed to advance the relationship.
I was panicking. I don’t know why, but, I chose a girl at random, the most beautiful I could see at the time, and I began to ask her advice. I wanted to know from a beautiful woman’s perspective what I should do.
She, Belle, told me I should just walk straight up to her and kiss her right on the face. The thought of it made me turn red with embarrassment. It was such a bold move, could it work?
I asked if she was serious, and sure enough she was. This (at the time) blonde woman I chose at random was telling me to march right up the this girl I was head-over-heels for, and kiss her.
I never did. But for some reason, I fell in love with Jami Belle. I still feel guilty for leaving the gorgeous name behind, but, this woman, was something more.

She sent me a preposterous photo of her making this awfully crude face akin to a duck. And my heart melted. This drop dead beautiful girl I don’t even know just exposed herself in one of the most vulnerable poses I’ve ever seen. I loved her. I wanted her. And I told her.
I didn’t pull my usual ******* and just, try to manipulate her into being in a relationship with me. I told her “I’m falling for you, Jami.”

The next couple weeks were spent wooing her. Constant messaging. Exchanging of truths and flirtations. Then one day, I was sitting in a park, surrounded by amazing music, perfect weather, and I told her “I’m sitting here, surrounded by beautiful people, and I can only think of you.”
I think that’s when she fell for me. Thank god. My chest exploded every night thereafter.

The next two months were spent in love. Complete love. Kissing and snogging and exchanging the most sacred of ourselves to each other. Promises. Embraces. Comfort. True love.
She was in my dreams, almost every night. I loved remembering those dreams. She was my everything.
We had some bumps, who doesn’t? She left me for a bit, we kissed and made up. She told me she couldn’t be rid of me. I melted.
-Note here, This isn’t some ****** teen drama. This may legitimately be the rest of my life.-
Time passed, we were good again. I told her, I asked her “Will you marry me someday?” She made sure I heard her yes.

I ended up with some jewelry for her, A red beaded bracelet and a ring of steel woven like a Celtic knot. I suppose It was a planned promise ring.

She and I... Started to go downhill. As the temperatures dropped, so did both of our emotions. We both seeped slowly into depression and neither knew what to do.
She lives many many miles away. Some nights I lay awake thinking that if she were just a little closer, it could have been better, but no. We both seeped lower.
I couldn’t get her my gifts. She couldn’t get me hers.
We slowed talking. Soon neither of us had anything to say.
She began to ignore me. I can’t blame her; life was terrible, and nothing could be said.
I was terrified of her. She could break my heart, my will, my name and my power at any given moment; through ignoring me, or responding curtly. I was horrified of what we had become.
This didn’t feel like the true love it once was.

Eventually I became convinced that our love was dead. I was in shambles. I cried a little every day thinking of it, deciding if it were true.
Then an  influential figure of mine got me to begin speaking on the subject. Soon, I poured every detail I cared to tell to him, about how I felt, was feeling and all of it. I cried so hard, I don’t know how to describe. I was hysterical. This was the worst I’d ever felt. And it was my fault. I was deciding to end it (with the major influence of this figure I was speaking with). He told me he was shocked, not thinking I was that deeply in love. Me said how he hadn’t felt a heartbreak, a TRUE heartbreak like this until he was in his 20s. I was only 16.
I poured the water. I decided.
It must be dead. She didn’t love me anymore.

I needed closure. I wrote to her, telling her things I shouldn’t have. Absolutes about our relationship, our present, and our future. I spoke to her of her strength, her perfection, how she will always be wanted and loved. It was impossible not to.
And I walked away. I tried to grow. I tried to learn.

I put bandages on my wounds. They began to heal. And scar. Scar deeply.

I got to the point where I could finally flirt with girls again. They jumped on that train and took much of a liking to me. It was nice to feel the attention again, but every time I did, I could really only remember the compliments and sayings and kisses Jami gave to me.
I was still in love.
I was trapped in a purgatory. I had said goodbye, forever; but my heart screamed for her.

Then the astounding happened. She texted me. “Marshall?”
I began to pour water from my eyes and sob silently. “Jami, I need you,” I screamed to myself.

It was slow. There were a lot of revelations between both of us. Truths, some great, others... destroying, obliterating. But she was back. She loved me.
I loved her.
Always, and forever.
The most gorgeous, the most perfect woman in the world. Mine.

Maybe yet.
--

Where the image of tearing my veins to shreds plays over and over.
This broken record of ****** drowning.

I had a dream you were invisible
And we had ***.

It was a pleasant challenge, searching the air,
Seeing where
I could find you.

Don’t make permanent decisions
            Based on temporary emotions.

Wise words for a human.




I live by a creed:

Do unto others as you would like done unto you,
What goes around comes around,
Always tell your loved ones that you do, indeed, love them every time you say goodbye,
        For you may never see them again,
Hate and be hated,
Think good thoughts;
        Good things happen.
*
My life is safe. Things are well. But I am afraid of the dark,
            It always seems to engulf the light.

Burn me,
With acid.

Burn me
Alive.

Just enough,
Far enough,
Moving and swaying,
Seeing and breathing,
Words and rhymes,
Passion and play,

Just enough effort,
And not a drop more.

-June 6th 2013

Patience is a shadow.
It moves as the days go on,
Constantly shifting,
    Showering new cover on the world,
But with no shadows,
    No light shows through,
No sun can rise,
    If it is always risen.

-June 3rd 2013

The world isn't as you know it,
Everything is a lie.
Nothing has substantiality,
And everything is subjective,
And nothing is ever right.

We distract ourselves with the little things,
And don't see what's going on.
We play our little games,
And **** like it has meaning,
We pretend that nothing is wrong.

We don't see behind the scenes,
In fact nobody really does.
We fight these wars,
We **** these people,
And will ourselves to shed blood.

And no, I don't have the answers,
I don't think anyone does.
But I do know that if
We keep going like this,
The world will end just cause.

I feel like I could kiss you,
And my lips wouldn't feel like ice or mercury or death. Rather...

Warmth.
Not the kind of warmth you feel with a new pair of wool socks.

The kind of warmth you feel when your 6 foot 6 football-playing-friend embraces you like a lovable toothpick after his workout.
Where the sweat drips on your cheeks and forehead, and your legs lift off the ground and you know he truly loves you as a friend.

It's more that kind of love.
But still not quite.



The kind of warmth you feel when everyone is asleep and you're sitting in the darkness alone, dozens of miles from settlement, and you've kept the campfire going. The sun is starting to rise, you can see the blue in the sky. The heavy blanket around your body has protected you from the piercing cold. And you hear that zipper of the tent come undone and you see the white of a smile.

That kind of warmth.

I hope so
I really do.*

I do too.

I put sunlight on my tongue.
It manifests inside of me,
Then explodes through my eyes.
I can see everything.

The misty and damp mornings
                                                       alone are what hurt the most.
When I crave nothing more
                                                 than the warmth of your embrace and sight.
Why am I the most pleased
                                                 when we say goodbye.
It's only then
                        I feel anything.

If I search my depths I cannot find
the reason why I hate you,
I know I've searched and I know I've tried
And I know I can't escape you,

It's been years and years it's been
And I know that things have changed
And I know that hatred is the source,
Of my unyielding pain,

But I can't let go of this feeling
When I see your face,
The blood in my heart begins to boil
And rush up to my face,

It hurts again and it hurts like then
And I feel some sort of hell,
And I feel those feelings come out like steam
And scream from deep in their cell-

"I want you gone or I want you dead-
Not in this life or any,
But inside of me your fingers remain
and have done damage aplenty."

I hope you hear these cries I make
For they cannot ever be spoken,
And I hope you know I mean no harm
But my peace can bear no token,

I am here and I am strong
And I am loud and I am Marshall,
But yet I break with ease,
I hope you know I'm trying my hardest
And please grant me some kind of peace.

I just want to be locked in a cave,
And make it all go away!
I don’t want to be me,
I just want to be you and me!

I want to pass away all these days all these years-
I want to be able to
            TASTE YOUR TEARS!!
    *Give me your fear.

You rip my heart out when you say his name,
When I see your dreams and there is no mirror,
When I know you tremble,
    And I can’t hold you,
When I know I need you,
    And you I,
        But you don’t let me in,
I’m curious,
    How will you make those amends.

-April 8th 2013

To Tyler,

My bestest friend of all these years of developing youth and developing adult,
I will you my rifle. Produced under scrutiny, post-war, blued by Chinese furnaces and inspected by communist advisers. I assign this to you my friend in hope that you will recognize more in this object than its role in my suicide. Guns are not the enemy, only the tool. The tool of my execution carried out by the enemy, Our world. And Our society. And Our suffering.

This rifle, my prize. Is accurate. And powerful. And a threat to 5 lives at a time. A symbol of my free will, dissolved into the blood stains and skull fragments laced on its finely carved wooden stock.

In my life, I had loaned to you this talisman of my depression,
But now, in the wake of my death, you will see the weight of my previous actions. My prolonging of life and effort to resolve the suffering and dread I endure.

Tyler. *******. T-Swens. Sweeny Todd. Squidward. Twizzler. Squib.
Many names you have been known by myself and our peers, but erasing human choice and force, you have been known to me and my soul as a Savior of myself for far too long. You have been Beacon for my hope, Home to my catharsis, Shelter to my heart and Medic to my wounds. I love you as most one person can love another without supporting the same roof with the pillars of our spines. I love you as a brother and friend and father and son and twin soul and caring teacher and patient keeper. We are two peas as they say. We finish each other's thoughts. We read the same material and play the same games and breathe the same circles and eat the same vocabulary and sneeze the same curses.

Like two strings of ivy, supporting one another as they grow and twirl. We fight each other in attempts to suffocate our foefriend, at the same time as relying on our friendfoe for the support to grow higher and steal more light. I love you my ivy brother. And I apologize for everything.

Please do not take my death too hard. Mourn and grieve and move on. I was not a cinder block for your foundation. I was a twin building. Of sister architecture and of sister glasswork. We stood for not one score before my sore soul was stole by this full world. You will stand further. And I admire you for it, as much as I pity you for having to endure this slow acid rain and littering of broken cans and smoke rings.

Rest in peace for me, because there is no rest in death, you know this.

- Marshall. Jackledead. Pompous and loud ******* and drama queen. Forever friend.

This crow, this raven,
Bird of black,
Has a back of a thousand colors,
The brightest, lightest, flightest colors,
On his back.

He flies.

As one branch forks
Into two branches,
Thoughts do the same.

Fractals of existence,
Permanently deepening
The roots of experimenting.

Always thinking,
Always solving
And resolving.

The gray in my brain
Is really just a busy
Head
Of
Cauliflower.

The needle tore a hole two nights ago,
I didn't bite my tongue.
But it stung.

And bled. Slightly.
The lines lead
     to more lines,
Each was easier. Slightly.

And when I walked away for the night,
Come day I was clean.
And now I wear short sleeves.
Cause they can ask me "Did it Hurt?"
     And I will say "Ask Reznor, not Cash."

Pillars of your heart support the frames of my bed,
The sill of your sight enchants my glass windows,
And if your hand stays in mine, tears will never be shed,

Every cut, bruise, and scratch you get will be healed by my kiss,
If you ever burn down a tower, I will turn a blind eye,
Because even when you don’t try, you’re perfect,

Staying up late to not say “Goodnight my love,”
The only goodnight I want to give you is one without words,
Our kind of caring is something I’ve only spoke of,

But you are far more than any word can amount,
Your soul is something far greater than any voice,
And I wish we could just lay all day, not make a sound.

-July 4th 2013

I remember three things the most.

Of the first, her eyes,
Of the second, her hair,
Of the third, her smile.

Let’s see what’s next.

Adenosine fueling me behind the scenes
Lysergic crystals
Explosions, shrapnel shredding
Tearing, digging inside me
Severed limbs
Severed parts of me
Left behind.

Born again.

The pain was gone,
But an angel sung,
Only one song,
And all of it stung,

It’s no mystery to you or me,
No game to play, No room to say,
The mirror shattered, ashes scattered,
Apathy, embrace.

-June 5th 2013

There's an itch on my wrist
That I refuse to scratch.

I will stare at my wrist and I will say
"You will not win this."

The thin, clear layer that forms on rendered fat is glycerine.
You can mix it with nitric acid to make nitroglycerine.
Mix that with an alkali nitrate and something like sawdust or paper mush and -Boom!-

Dynamite.

I learn things when I listen.

These nights are what I hope these years would have been,
Laughing away until the early morn when I speak my way into your dreams,
The time we have here is but our only time upon this earth,
And every choice we make will be sealed in the fate that is called time,
For we cannot go backwards or forwards only one direction which is now,
Streaking campus, shoving food in to our mouth only to gag and make our friends laugh,
I know it sounds stupid to most of you,

But these memories are my years and months and days, these memories are the semesters of hard work and hours, of blood and sweat and toil which has driven me insane,

I am finally having the fun I was promised when I was given this gift called life, and you do not dare take that away from me.

Your smile was my everything,
The target for which I aimed,
Most lovely lips I’d ever seen,
Your body as great as name.
The jet black hair, Cloud sapphire eyes,
My treasure hunter seeked those gems,
Palpable love kept for such time,
At that moment I saw them,
I fell apart,
Pure beauty,
Hit me like a dart.
Blue moon on the sea.

If music be the food of love,
                My ears are never hungry.

And for that moment, those fleeting measurements of time, He was where He wanted to be.

I see my nails scratch my wrist bare,
Exposing my veins and arteries,
My skin peels back, splits open.

I see nothing abnormal.

So glad I can always escape to my dreams
Away from these people and away from these things,
Somewhere safer, unimaginable,
Somewhere where my cup isn't always full
     But at least it's happy.

I can get what I want from waking life,
By exploring my sleeping life,
The only problem is when I wake
I've kind of got a choice to make,
Is it better to live or better to let it pass,
     To sedate myself and live euphorias
     Or wake every day to the heartbreak, turmoil and inhumanities of the waking world.

I guess we'll see.

You gave me a lot of memories to forget.

She said my name.
I stared. I stared and stared.
One tear. Another. Bawling, weeping.

My true love; contact.

            11-17-13

Arpeggios
Of imprisoned frustration,
Finally leaking out
In notes and tones so pure,
Steel strings.

Comfort.

Like a warm coat on a deep winter day,
You kept me warm,
    Tickled my skin,
And made me smile.

There’s a reason I chose you,
        I’m so glad I didn’t forget it.

Blended my brain and my eyes roll back and see red
Purple every night to escape my head
It's death.

Intoxicating these toxic thoughts escapes them
I'm trapped and hated
And I can't make it.

I close my eyes and I see her or a barrel
And it's terrible.

The solution to my life
Is to accept it as my vice
And accept that I'm not fine.

I am arms and I grasp
And they can't accept that
I'm crass
And my thoughts are black
I can't
Make up for the lack
Of passion
Society hasn't.

"I'm in love with broken.

The weak, the powerless,
Seizable.

I want to help.
          Not them, myself.

"Usage,"
A verb.
A synonym for life.
An alias for Marshall.
_________________
Spa­rked by a girl I was eyeing at the Vanguard performance. She was beautiful with pale skin and dark hair.
Her thigh gap was as large as possible.
Aside from the Jews in the Holocaust, she was one of the skinniest people I've seen.

God. What the hell.
Why must they all be broken?"

Does Prometheus enjoy his struggle,
Having tasked an eternity?

I wish I met you.
I wish I said more than just some hellos.
I wish we kissed.
I wish that wishes don't come true.
I wish I never wished for anything.

Every day
This sun rises
And shines light upon our mistakes.
Conglomerate of neat and nasty people.
Hydrogen doesn't care.

Call me Michael if it pleases you. Call me Daniel, Jack, I don't care. Hippy, nerd, creep, weird, gay, weak, loser, ******, fat, stupid, illiterate, anti-social, addict, dog, *******, anything. I've been called it all.
Some of it makes me smile, some of it hides the shine in my eyes.
But all of it is nothing, because I know you are human, and I, I am Marshall Coleson Blaine Hiatt.

And I love all of you.

Little snowshoe hare
Leaving fresh tracks in the snow
Spring is on the way.

Roasting sticks in this sun,
Roasting my lungs and skin
My God sun warms me,
Inside and out.

Such small arms you had
And how
Tight that sweater held you .
How
Tight
I held you,
Knowing how temporary
These moments are.

How peaceful your soft
Hair was in my face as we
Read and solved children's books.
Laughing and pointing.
Kissing.

I will never forget.

She still makes my heart skip
Every time she smiles.
I will fight for that smile.
Wait it out.

Save yourself
Then come for me.

In the tub
I'm bleeding.
My wrist is still open
And it won't stop if I keep submerging it in water.
I think that's what I want.

If I have less blood,
The NyQuil hits harder
If the blood thinners do their job
I won't clot
And I will die asleep.

That's the dream
Isn't it.

Psychoactive,
More active than your passive hashtags
I'm acting like passion's lacking in these masses
No more than attractive caskets
Really just static traffic, molasses,
Fashion classes? You're wearing classic ashes.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
This *****.
Unstuck, this one's luck has run amok,
Adjust our distrust to highlight this unjustice.
I'm just one among us.

Us and them. Red and blue. White and black.
We're all dead, just lay me on the mat.
There's chitchat tryin' to get at where I'm at
And why I'm there.
It's riffraff.
I'm just kicking back.