Maddie Lane

Maddie Lane Apr 2013

At what point did I stop caring,
I'm not entirely sure.
When did I stop feeling things?
I don't know the answer to that either.
People laugh hard at things that are funny,
I struggle to force a smile.
Maybe my happiness is lost in the haze of all of the put downs,
all of the constant reminders of what I have done wrong.
All I know is that I am now a robot,
void of any real feelings.
I'm sorry to those it is affecting,
I just can't help it.

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

Hipsters.

I'm surrounded by a world of pretentious posers.
They hide behind the title 'hipster'
They don't hide behind brand names,
they hind behind thrift store clothing,
they call themselves authentic.
How can you be authentic when you take the ideas of others,
change a few words,
and call it your own?
I am surrounded by a world of posers,
wondering if I should submit and head to the nearest thrift store.
I am trying to figure out who I am,
find myself in everything I see,
figuring out what I like and what I don't.
I don't know where I am.
I read the poetry of Plath and feel like we share similar thoughts.
I am not Plath, I cannot be Sylvia,
I won't end my life with my head in an oven.
I am not depressed,
at least I don't think I'd call it depressed.
I don't know what I am,
I can't label it.
When I try I am afraid to,
I dont want fall under the category of pretentious poser,
but I am afraid that's where I am headed.

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

Keep you.

I want to keep you as close to me as possible as I can without crushing you.
Weld your lips onto mine - that is where they belong.
I want your gaze to never falter off of my faulty face.
The only place that I am beautiful is in your eyes.
I want to keep your voice in my head so I can never forget the way that it sounds when you tell me you love me.
I want to keep your love as close to me as I can so I can never forget about it or leave it behind as I experience new places.
I want to keep the memories alive so even when we are hundreds of miles apart and do not see each other for months I can still think of you and smile.
I want to keep you as close as I can without crushing you.

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

Passion

Pound your fists against the wall as you tell me I know nothing,
scream obscenities through the phone so loud I'm surprised the glass doesn't shatter.
Call it Passion.
Passion is your alter ego.
Passion hates me,
Passion never fails to tell me when I'm wrong.
Passion breaks my heart again and again.
Passion loves me,
Passion always tells me I am talented and smart.
Passion picks up the broken pieces and puts them back together.
Passion never fails to tell me I am beautiful.
Passion never fails to tell me that I would look ugly if I cut my hair,
or pierced my nose.
Passion tells my that my nose is crooked.
Passion is spiteful and unforgiving,
never fails to bring up my past mistakes.
Passion hates when I bring up his mistakes,
he deems his lies necessary,
while deeming my white lies fatal.
Passion is never wrong,
I am never right.
Passion wants me to be honest and say what is on my mind.
Passion wants me to sit down and shut up.
Passion never fails to tell me he loves me.
**Passion loves me.

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

Target

Salinger once said, "I have scars from touching certain people."
You are the one who has left the deepest scars.
I hold my fists up to my face - to defend myself,
we both know it's useless.
You manage to cut without touching.
Your mouth is your weapon.
Your words could cut diamonds,
and they slice through me - I am the thinnest paper,
and you, the sharpest of scissors.
I don armor to shield myself from your attacks when you are angry.
I am your target,
say the wrong thing and I can expect to feel your fury.
I compared you to the hulk;
the way you get yourself into a rage, I could swear you change form.
After, when calmed, you return to your normal self.
Weeping while you apologize,
acknowledging that it's not okay,
punishing yourself for what has happened.
"It's okay" I always tell you
"No it's not" you always reply softly, sadly.

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

Attempt at a villanelle

I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?
But somehow miles seem much longer than they used to.
The space between has grown.

Unfamiliar to me are the surroundings you now call home.
I had thought your home would always be the one around the corner from mine.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

You bury your discontent under a heap of lies;
Never enough time to call, stamps are too expensive; don’t expect letters anymore.
The space between has grown.

I’m reaching out into darkness.
It seems like you're across the country, not a few states away.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

Honesty has become inimical, denial is now our close friend.
We didn’t seem to notice the change happen, once we did we tried to cover it up.
The space between has grown.

It seems that we have changed, grown up in very opposite ways.
We let two hundred twenty six miles define us, change us, it has successfully destroyed us.
The space between has grown.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

Maddie Lane Mar 2013

I cannot save anyone.

I cannot save you,
cling to me to keep you afloat and you will find my skin is too slippery to latch on to and that you will certainly drown.
I try hard to keep my own sorrows at bay,
I cannot help defend you from yours.
I am sorry, I am too weak to protect both you and I,
my smile falters easily and if you look long enough you will see that my happiness is a facade.
I was unaware that you faced your own demons,
that you, too, were drowning in the same sea as I.
Perhaps if we joined forces we could keep the monsters away.
But instead, you are hundreds of miles away,
throwing swears at me when I say the wrong thing,
not letting me see your scars,
not letting me know your pain.
You caught me off-guard this time,
you didn't let me know when you were caught in the quicksand,
you only let me know once it swallowed you whole.