Etymon and Polaroid

Don’t You Ever, Maria?

“Don’t you ever fall in love, Maria?”

I snickered.

“Of course, I do! In fact, I always do! I fall in love with every single person who had made me laugh like a lunatic. I fall in love with everyone who made me dance in the rain when I do not dance in the first place. I fall in love with the few people who can look me in the eyes. I have blank eyes, you see, they are somewhat dead even when I laugh. I fall in love with strangers who sit beside me in a bus ride, who smiled at me in the hallways, or helped me open the door to the coffee shop. And I fall in love with the wrong people. I fall in love with the mad ones, the ugly ones, the broken ones, the unlovable. Actually, if you would ask me what my greatest flaw is, that would be it.”

“What? That you always fall in love with the wrong ones?”

I smiled.

“No. That I always fall in love and I did nothing about it.”


Words by Maria

Painting entitled Summer Solitude by Deborah Bays

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Etymon and Polaroid

The Little Bonnie Lass

If I were given one chance- just one chance- to change anything in my life, I fear it would have been wasted. Because if I chose to do one single thing differently, we might never have met each other. I may have never loved you. Everything- the wrong choices, the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, the laughter, even the oblivion- has led me to you. Everything is worth the pain. And I would not change one small bit of these things- however painful they might be- if it meant I would lose you.


Words by Maria

Illustration retrieved from Pinterest

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Etymon and Polaroid

Beards

What are you afraid of?

You’ll laugh at me when I tell you.

No, no. I won’t. Tell me.

Beards.

What?

I am afraid of beards.

Why?

It reminds me of someone.

Who?

A friend. Supposedly a friend.

What did he do?

He-

He?

He scared me.

How?

He- he told me he wanted to see inside of me.

What do you want to tell him?

I wanted to tell him that I do not deserve this. I do not deserve to be reminded of him every time I glanced at bearded men. I do not deserve feeling like a caged animal every time a group of men came passing by. And I certainly do not deserve to be disgusted of myself because of his direct insult to my innocence.

I am a woman.

Created not for his pleasure but for the sake of humanity. I am not a woman of society easily derailed by foolish ways of men with their boorish norms, nor am I a woman easily conquered by ways of self-made goddesses with their conspicuous laughter.

My heart is a kingdom, my mind the universe.

I do not deserve this.


Words by Maria

Illustration retrieved from Pinterest

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Etymon and Polaroid

Only a Fairytale and Nothing More

If it gives you fear,
If it makes you cry,
If you lose sleep at night,
If it brings you so low that you feel so small,
If it demands more from you than you can possibly offer,
If it changes you from a princess to a monster,
Then it is not love.

Just because it is intangible and indescribable, does not mean it is good. Know that the reason why you cannot understand something that is ought to be beautiful as the tales are told is maybe because you are not supposed to.

Because you do not need to.

Because it is not meant to be.

Because it is not Love.


Words by Maria

Photograph retrieved from: Pinterest

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Etymon and Polaroid

Burn Me.

If I die of a broken heart, burn me. 

Do not lay me down on the earth only to decay. I would not let a tree grow from where my body was laid to rest. I am selfish. No creature should grow from me except you. You. You. Only you. Scatter my ashes like rose petals on the bed where we made love. Or under the light of the moon where we first kissed. Or inside the lofty forest where we glared at those who tried to break our vows. Oh love, the vows. Do you still remember how they came out of our lips like music none but us could sing?

“I will kill those who try to take you away from me. And tear them apart and burn them. I will burn them. Do you hear me? I will burn them!”

And under the tallest of trees and the distant sun, over the lowest of stones and the heat of the earth, you burned me.

Just like you promised.

And I was grateful.


Words by Maria

Photo by April Escarcha

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