A Lethal Combination

 These bones they ache.
Against the Earth they quake.
With tears I shake.

                                 I might be a million...
                                                             Perhaps I am ageless.
                                I am a new mind, old soul, weathered body.

                                     Before.
                               I was young- I thought this made me strong.
                                                    Yet I am weak.

  Poised Solemnity:
I smiled as if there was nothing there.
For people to see was my greatest fear.

I aimed for calm perfection, a solid face.
Yet I felt sadness and pain leaking from me...
a poisonous mace.

                                  My Eyes.
                                                 I kept them down...
                                                 Yet I looked up.
                                                 For I was strong.

YEARS WENT ALONG WITH A POWERFUL, YOUTHFUL STRIDE
             LAUGHING AT ME AS THEY FELT THE LIFE SLIDE

                                  At nineteen, I was old.
               Forced to know decades of pain
                                       from youth to my grave
                      No In-Between
                                     Rites of passage did not exist.
                     Only a never-ending list
                                              Of what to do
                                              What to take
                                            How to survive
          Why struggle through life yet yearn to die
                            has god turned his evil eye?
                     My young mind pounds against its cage
                 Why? was it given this meager wage:
                                 An instrument of possibility
                          Shackled by my health's limited ability.
                      Health this is not health
                           Life this is not life
                                               My Eyes
                                            are stuck open
                 half my body suffers its common paralysis
                    yet, suddenly, the shackles begin to crack
                                     my tomb is broken open

                                            I AM WEARY,
                                            LET ME REST.

Tschüss!
Marta Frieda Hart

Introduction to a New Voice

My name is Marta Frieda Hart. Well, actually, it isn’t. However, the initials are the same and the words mean ‘lady’ ‘peace’ and ‘strong’ and these are what I am, or strive to be. I am friends with Anna Belle Lee and have found great comfort and strength by reading her blog, so we decided that we could work on it together.  I post stuff, she posts stuff.  This is me trying to figure out who/what I am. My frustrations, thoughts, and even poor attempts at poetry will be here. I think this will push me: I rarely share things with people (it makes me feel vulnerable and slightly cheesy). Since this is me trying to share stuff- it will be emotional, it will be intimate, and hopefully it will help me to step outside of my neat little box. Because it is really quite messy in there.  A few facts about me: I am young, but feel old. I am pretty much broke because of medical bills. I love bicycles. My heart gravitates towards ballet.  I believe in the power of love- not just the romantic kind (even though that’s important and amazing), but the bonds with friends, family, and general kindness towards others. Most importantly, I have a cat who is absolutely SPLENDID! You’ll learn more about me as we go on, but I figured that before I pour out my heart you should have a general idea of who I am, so hopefully that was helpful.

Come take a trip with me, maybe we’ll fall…wouldn’t that be exciting?

Tschüss,

Marta Frieda Hart

The Light is Noir

The light is noir.

I feel the air escape your lungs.

I feel a steady beat humming your chest.

We’re both staring at the ceiling.

Silence.

The room is burning cold

A slick serenader would seduce you

Suck away the air from your lips

Fast like a dying breath.

But I

Lay only with you

Holding your hand

Like a small treasure

And allow silence to ensue.

Breath.

I can’t see your face

But I feel it in your breath

I curl into you

Embracing your air

 A phrase

The movement of these arms

Turn myself over and I look

Away, help me look away

The darkness hides

Intentions

The air tastes cool

I’m sucking at the mixed spit

Swallowed in my mouth

It tastes foreign

Tears

They venture down me

I hold in my breath

Do not see me in my breath

I am not me

The light is noir

And I am not me.

Best,
Anna Belle Lee