These writings straddle the fine line between myself and my alter ego


She would wait until the day

before it rained

To go to the beach

Walk in the hot sun

and wait for the rain clouds to line the coast

and wade into the crashing waves

Because they were always

best just before the rain.

She would lay and watch

the birds as they

circled the sky

chirping and swirling

and diving into the water

at the trash flowing up to shore

Trucks would drive by

slow down and watch her


bathe in the sun

Some knew her

by her constant presence

And lone figure.

She carried the same bag

the same surf board

the same swim suit

And she knew them, too by

their trucks and

fishing rods

but she made them pass

no matter how far she had to walk

she did not want to  really know them

not by name or face

But let them blend into the grains of sand

And blow by

with the seagulls

and the stray kite some

poor child had to chase down the beach

Piper Marau

Scratch Me

I feel them crawling on me

One on my arm

Another down my blouse

Right on the stomach

Digging through my hair

I try to sleep and


Right on my ankle

The itching continues

Like tiny bugs that

For a moment

I see them

Gnawing on my skin

Dozens of them

Marching around

In a random pattern

Each going after a piece of me

Sneaky bastards

I always slap at them

Always scratching them away

But they won't go

Drowning them out won't work

They play in the soap bubbles

The F'n Bastards

Piper Marau

Lost at Sea

Nothing so soothing as the crash of the ocean

The glittering blue slowly fading into the sky

A steady breeze drifting through the hair of my arms

The world seems endless right there

It all stretches beyond reach but seems just a step away

There is not alone in this ocean

I am always surrounded by some living thing

A creature passing by

part of a sophisticated cycle

On a journey from thousands of miles and now by me

Or a collection of California Orange bags

What sort of ship wreck was that?

And it's all drifting in the ocean together

As the waves turn over and over

Changing color

Forming faint images of a body being tossed around

Helpless and limp

I can see a glimpse into the eyes of the lifeless man

Dead yet pleading for rescue

Breaking apart into the crest of the waves

He fades among the torn purple Orange bags

Perhaps seeming to reform again back in the same spot

He swims back and forth

As I watched for the face in the crashing ocean

A seagull came swooping in

Pecking at the man's eyes

Flying off with a fish

And there are twenty more of them just to the left

Squawking over the feast

Piper Marau

The Itch (unrefined)

                "Honey" I looked up and said to my husband of two years.  He was the exact same age as me, just two days apart.  It was not the usual meet-fall in love-get married type of romance either.  This knight was dark and elusive.  I may never know if his heart was ever purely for me but up until this point I knew I could trust him.  His judgment was always a little better than mine in most areas.  If you forget that he's incurably socially awkward he seems more like the type of man you want to have in charge of things.

                I was looking at the creature that crawled on my arm.  It had a crab head on a crab body that was morphed with and scorpion's body and tail.  The thing was on my left forearm dancing its little feet up and down in a random pattern not moving from its spot.  The tail was flicking quickly in the air in smooth jerking waves.  I made eye contact with it.  For a moment my heart completely stopped and the only life I knew was in the eyes of this marvelous beast.  The eyes were a roomy black with emotions that I  was sitting right there feeling.  There was fear and tingling and knowledge.  I was far from knowing peace locked in this gaze and yet there was no torture staring back at me.  It seemed as if forever had passed before my body took over and caused me to blink.

                I could feel the legs as they danced on my bare skin.  I wanted to scratch my arm but I was afraid.  What if I could really touch it?  What if when I reach out to scratch my arm I feel the claws of the monster scrape against my fingers?  Well I can't very well make a scene over this.  My husband is standing in the next room fully able to see my actions and lord knows he doesn't need this.

                I have always itched.  I have always felt that something was crawling on my skin causing the slight tickle when I am alone in a room with no wind and nothing is touching me.  The paranoia left me some years ago and now I don't look when I scratch.  Sometimes I still want to, though.  The curiosity is always there.

                "Honey!" I called out louder this time.  He was in the office area.  The living room was open to it like a great room effect that was popular in the 20's.  My husband had buried himself in his work.  There were O-rings and lubricants and engine parts that I could never identify.  He was always trying to come up with a more efficient way to do something, a cheaper fuel to burn.  His hands were covered in grease and his clothes were wrinkled and stained with the labor of his work.  Recently he had become somewhat of a shut-in.  When the plant closed down there was more time to get ahead on his new model.  Then he had less time to find a new job.  It is a very good thing I still have my work.  He would not know what to do right now.  He would be lost in his experiments, I just know it.  And I know him better than anyone else.

                I was sitting on the couch watching him patiently put things in order on his big oak table.  That table was a steal!  It is amazing the things you find on a Saturday morning.  We passed a yard sale in a more uppity side of town.  A family had just lost everything and was selling what they could to satisfy the bank.  They were nukes, too.  I saw the table under a display of linens.  It was simple enough to decorate with a fancy cloth or center piece but standing alone it was strong and glorious.  The craftsmanship was so flawless on the smooth legs and corners but it was the architecture that made it special.    And it was solid.  I remember the mosquitoes being particularly bad that morning.  It was not the best start to our anniversary.  At least he still had his job then.  The electricians are always some of the last people to get let go.

                Finally he uncovered his towel in the clutter and was cleaning up his hands.  Light from the curtains was leaking through and piercing through his hair causing the auburn to explode with radiance and emit a translucent ruby glow.  The sun was setting behind that curtain and there were complimentary oranges and reds pulsating through the cracks.    His eyes met mine and I felt helpless.  My entire being belonged to  him and as the blood raced through my veins and across my body I began to itch with such violence and passion that again my heart stopped and I knew only him.  In his eyes I saw love.  He had discovered something but he wasn't quite there yet.  There was just one more thing.  And he was happy about this.  He was about to share with me but he knew that was not what I was asking of him.  He opened his mouth and with a jolt everything began again.

                "Yeah?  Sorry, it's a mess in there...I got caught up, what's up?" Elevating the end of the sentence with interest in me, alertness, and fondness.  I reached up with my left arm and rotated it left, right, left, staring at it perplexed.   I looked at him with a look that begged him to tell me the truth and not ask questions later.  I took a casual breath and glanced at my arm with a loose, calm, and not even caring about the curious-tone to my voice to match the look and asked, "Do you see ANYTHING on my arm at  all other than the material of my shirt?"

                I glanced at him expecting to hear a 'why?' but he just looked at my arm with his head slightly tilted, blinked, looked at me, and shrugged, "No.  Not that I can see." His eyes telling me if something were there it must be gone now.  I smiled at him, locked in his stare again.  I always melted in those eyes.  He smiled back at me as he turned to go wash up.  It was our anniversary, Feb. 17th, and we had made dinner plans.  I looked back to my arm, alone now, and smiled at the creature.  It had been watching my every move.  I relaxed a little and looked at it closer.  It didn't move, it didn't blink, it just danced in its place.  I stood up with my arm folded across my chest in front of me but not touching myself and walked into the bedroom.  My husband was buttoning up a shirt, his hands still wet from the washing.  I went to the dresser and gently scooted the Crab-Scorpion off my arm and onto the dresser top.  It danced around gaily, almost cute.  It looked playful and excited.  I bounced my fingers in the air around it a few times as it tried to pinch me, but it was all good spirited.  It chased its tail entrancing me and not knowing I was being closely watched by my husband.

                "Exactly what are you doing?" He asked me nervously only breaking part of the spell.  "Well," I began with a sedate tone in my voice, "if I swat at them they only get worse.  When I am nice to them and play with them I find it is much easier to get around."  I then stopped tracing my fingers around the spinning creature and walked lightly into the closet, leaving it on the dresser waiting for me, about to crawl on my husband.

Piper Marau

Around again

 She's not an alcoholic

But she drinks

She's not addicted

But she smokes

She loves like there is no tomorrow

But she feels all the pain

She longs for a change

But she fears the unfamiliar

Some day she'll let it go

But for now the anxiety thrills her

She hates the things she secretly does

She loves the things she hates

But she feels empty with no love to guide her

She won't let him tell her what to do

In the end she always wins

But first she'll be ashamed.


Piper Marau


 It makes sense because

It already moves

Around in a circle

Catching the fairy

Though, it was never there

Just a suggestion from the many

Cheated from the night

Another day

I shall see her

Homemade sorrow

To hallucinate.


Piper Marau

A Dream


I'm aching for a time I do not live in

Where the polite are the ordinary

A short walk was a mile

A gentleman always smiled

I secretly live in this current world

Holding expectations of our great grandmothers

Thinking some day I'll find a man

With the same values and morality

To walk with me arm in arm, to

Pass me a handkerchief when I sneeze

To take control and make the right choice

Whether it will hurt him or help him

I believe I could meet a man who will dance

Cheek to cheek as the orchestra plays

But that dream fades the more

I participate in this new and careless world.


Piper Marau

A Moment


The smoke fills her lungs

She holds it in deep this time

As she leans back she knows

This is it, she feels

A chill in the air haunts her

She looks around her

She's still alone

She's patient but not for long

A bird flies by close

The last one she will see

Did she lock the door?, Yes

Why does it matter?

The thoughts float by like waves in the sea

This moment passes so slowly

It seems the earth has stopped

One quick glance around

The final look she takes

Her eyes close as she falls forward

She exhales the smoke from her lungs

It lingers above her where she last stood

She hits the ground quickly

Like the realization she had yesterday

It's this or cancer.


Piper Marau

Dream Weaver


It is crawling through my veins again

You are seeping through my blood

This haunt has left me tired again

You have me dying for a way out

Each passing moment I hold my breath

I am still and motionless so you won't find me

The pain you caused me is so poetic

A terror and a dream

Still a mental parasite gnawing at my thoughts

Drilling horrific fantasies into my dreams

It has become so real I can touch

Then dissolves as I grasp on

You leave me with nothing real

No substance to support my hysterics

You are an ironic being

Haunting my open eyes

When you cannot catch me sleeping

And still you brush through me

Catching me off guard

You litter my thoughts with hope

Then like wildfire destroy my aspirations

With uncertainty and doubt

For years my best friend

And now my worst enemy

You are the taint that betrayed my mind

And the anecdote from my demise


Piper Marau

Black Widow


Questions that need answered

People always in the way

They make you feel betrayed

Lace over your eyes to seem not so blind

Through the pattern holes are sewn

What little light and movement shewn

Unable to see the truth

Lied to by enemy of youth

But told so little truth

What little honesty of a token

Spun a web of trouble strung around your heart

Squeezing your lungs to tear you apart

Life is slipping through those lacy holes

No time to hear the reality that needs to be told

No trust in your enemy but so honest he seems

But venom to destroy a friendship pulled

Unraveled by the tiniest of strings

No matter how loose the friendship may get

The torn feelings and lies you'll never forget

But whose side to complete the torment

My black widow devoured my soul

Of such betrayal I'll never get over

Friend lost and taken over

Forever I'll bleed in this wound that engulfs me

Away from comfort to speak of my joy

I'll move on but still dwell upon the ruins now here

A sanctuary for my sorrow

Now closed to mourn.


Piper Marau


Dirty Water


Dirty water flows down my back

Dirty water streams from my hands

Dirty water as I reach for the soap

Dirty water leaves me no hope

Dirty water covers me with sin

Dirty water uncleansed from within

Dirty water makes me close my eyes

Dirty water fills me with lies

Dirty water is drowning my soul

Dirty water is taking me over

Dirty water covers the sun

Dirty water has almost won

Dirty water makes me ashamed

Dirty water ruins my name

Dirty water now fills the tub

Dirty water is nowhere near done.

Piper Marau