One of ThoseShe was one of those strange little girls, the kind who never fit in with the dress-wearing ones . . . the ones who played with dolls, braided hair for fun, and talked about being mommies one day. She preferred overalls to little pink sundresses and hiking boots to white Keds. She played with her brothers friends, the only blonde in the roaming pack of testosterone.One of Those5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
With her hair pulled tight into a ponytail, she chased the ice cream man and outran the Heinburgs German Shepherds. She leapt over creeks and onto dog piles, having nothing to do with clean games.
The little girls she was predestined to play with called her names whenever she walked by their tea parties. Her revenge was quick, however. One well-placed hit during a cul-de-sac baseball game was all she needed to splatter their dresses and stuffed rabbits with Lipton and send them crying to their mothers.
At night she would escape from her family: a grandmother who said she would die alone, a mother who
Soldier OnAnother Saturday morning. Another breakfast at Vicki's Diner with Fred. They'd been doing it for years now, Fred and Jim. Since the War ended and they both had jobs. It was their way of celebrating coming home alive. The two had been young men of twenty-five and Vicki was still alive when they started frequenting the now-rundown diner. Now they were past double that and Vicki's daughter ran the place, which was slightly cleaner than it had been in its earlier days.Soldier On5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When Jim entered the cramped diner, he came in with his usual flourish, greeting the owner and her daughter, the waitress, by name. He chatted with the other faces at the counter or tables before sitting down at his usual booth. He knew them all, or most, at least. The ones he did not were specifically ignored. Some of these elderly, wrinkled men had taught his kids back in the day. Others had run local stores he once frequented, stores that were forced out of business by the conglomerates and strip-malls that had in
S.M.I.L.ESometimes I look at you and think that,S.M.I.L.E5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe, you're a figment of my
Imagination and our wonderful
Life together is only a dream. You know, I'd still be happy
Even if that were true. Because I'd have known you.
To Chronic PainYou are forever. Omniscient. Omnipresent.To Chronic Pain5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are weakest when I am strongest.
You are strongest when I am weakest.
You are beyond any fears, any desires.
You are more withstanding than titanium.
You are steadier than a surgeon's hand.
You are longer lasting than uranium.
You are as merciless as a gladiator,
Yet you never kill.
You are far too kind for that.
Too gentle for murder.
Too light-and-lavish for cold blood.
Yet you never cease to aggravate.
You pull at constitutions, at will power.
You tear down walls erected to protect.
You burn bridges and forests,
Decimating all in your path and
Making villagers run in fear
From your raging, draconian laugh.
They await a knight to slay
Your serpentine, winged form
For they know not that you,
Oh beauteous beast of burden, shall never
Be defeated. Only matched and stalemated.
You are a worthy adversary, my friend,
And beautiful in your own rite.
So, for your persistence, I bow in respect.
But for your morals, I unsheathe my sword
EdgeI found her cutting in the woods. High up in a tree where only birds should be. Vultures were circling against the blue. Waiting for her to pass out. To fall to her death meters below. She was almost gone by the time I spotted her. Half-starved. Fully crazed. Her eyes burned with unspoken words. She hated me. Hated herself. Hated everything. But clung to the tree as if it were her only friend. Spreading and squeezing blood from her sliced skin onto the rough bark. Turning the deep brown red. Crying. And moaning. And whispering things I did not know. Patches of words I will never comprehend.Edge4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I begged her to come down. To leave the blade in the tree and come home. I would patch her up. Make everything better.
She only cried harder. Whispered faster. Clenched the unforgiving razor tighter. And tighter. And tighter in her tiny hand as blood dripped from her fingers and palm faster and faster and faster. Until I screamed so loud for her to stop that her hand snapped open. And she dropped th
SwallowFourteen pillsSwallow4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And a bottle of water.
Life is complete.
Heal MeSomeone once said I wouldHeal Me5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Be healed if I just prayed,
Opened my heart to Jesus.
But what if Jesus wants me sick?
I Am Not GoneIt had been a month since she'd been in that house on the corner of Schindler and Hart, the one with the ivy that had long ago choked the brick into submission. A month since she'd been in that room with all the posters and pictures of good times. Of the things before. Parts of her were at peace with what she had come to do. Parts of her hated it.I Am Not Gone4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She climbed the crumbling stairs, and noted that the walnut-colored door was wide open, leaving only the broken screen door between the Harppins and the bugs of August. Tentatively, she knocked on the green frame around the screen. In an instant she heard footsteps on the wooden floor within. Mrs. Harppin appeared.
"Ah, Julie. Come in dear," she said with a broken smile, opening the door. Mrs. Harppins had aged considerably since Julie last saw her.
Gray wisps of hair were frizzed in all directions. There were frown lines around her mouth. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. It was as if she hadn't slept in weeks.
Julie stepped into the house
Soda CanUpon a fence running through a pasture in the middle of cow-country, there sits a can of orange soda, which seems to have been there since the moment light bathed the Earth with radiance. Through each passing year it survives blinding blizzards, driving rains, and banshee winds. Never once leaving its post.Soda Can4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A little girl comes to it every now and then, looking as if she'd rolled in fairy dust and mud. She sits upon a beam and drinks from the faded orange aluminum. And says it tastes like eternity.
I remember how someone once told me that citric acid plus sodium benzoate equals cancer. And I share this with her.
She laughs every time, calling me gullible, childish. Then she disappears, leaving autumn-brown leaves in her wake, and the can standing upon its post.
I reach for it every time. Try to drink deep, as she did, but nothing ever pours out.
Mama's Dolls"I'm gonna show you how to make yourself somthin' real special," Mama said as she lead me into our cramped kitchen. It was the size of a closet, far too small for our needs.Mama's Dolls4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"What, Mama?" I asked, eight-year-old hands dragging in a chair. The room wasn't big enough to keep the chairs in, so we stored them in the living room.
She swung her chair to the table, and sat. "A doll. A doll my mama taught me how to make when I wasn't much bigger than you."
I grinned as I plopped down my chair. Dolls were my one true love at that age. They were all I wanted to play with. All I wanted to be with. Secretly, I dreamed of making them when I grew up, and I would be the best doll maker in town. Just like Mama.
I marveled at the mess of stuff spread out on the kitchen table: two sets of sticks, Spanish moss, fabric, tiny buttons, thread. Mama had laid it all.
"Now sit down, and I'll show you how it's done."
I obeyed, but didn't take my eyes off the pile.
"Watch close, now. You take them two sticks and
Little GirlDoctor! Doctor!Little Girl6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Its a trick,
But Doctor! Doctor!
Shes been in bed
Since last night
After they had that fight.
Is she all right?
The Doctors dead!
The Doctors dead!
Daddy went and
Bashed his head!
The Doctors dead!
He came to our house
Cuz Mommas not right
Then he and Daddy started to fight!
Im scared to go home tonight.
My Daddys missing!
My Daddys missing!
The police came
And Daddy started hissing.
My Daddys missing!
The police and Padre
Took him away
Cuz he hid the doctor in the hay
And killed Momma, so they say.
Where am I going to stay?
Were you drunk?
Were you drunk?
Yes, I know your
Ship is sunk,
But Daddy! Daddy!
Were you drunk?
And the Doctor, to
Insecurity SeaMy insecurities bubble upInsecurity Sea5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And babble like brooks
And springs and streams
Flowing over dead riverbeds.
I am lost in their new life,
Blinded by the light.
Can I not see the truth?
Breathe in reality
Like a false prophet
No. For I am only human.
And all humans are
Blind, deaf, and dumb
Love is the same.
It cares not for reason
Or reality. Yet it exists,
Breeding insecurities and
Making the viscous cycle
And come to a full-circle stop
The horse heads stare
Into my soul, knowing
What lies beneath the calm,
Glassy surface. An earthquake
Is shaking the seabed, scaring
The fish away.
Where will the tsunami
Make its ground?
Or has it already come ashore.
The Way She SmilesSaffron shifted uncomfortably in her chair a cheap thing with no padding to speak of. The kind made for people to remember it was not good to sit where she did.The Way She Smiles4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Would you like some tea, Miss Reed?" It was the principles voice. She looked up from her moccasined feet. He was still standing behind his desk, refusing to sit in the cushiony leather chair behind him. He had been there since Saffron walked in.
"No thank you, sir." She pulled the ends of her sleeves tight over her hands, pressing them down to her palms.
"Please. I insist." He turned to take two glass teacups from the cabinet behind him. "Lemon or honey?" Steaming water poured from the boiler on top of the cabinet.
Saffron mind raced as it began calculating calories.
Tea is zero calories. Honey is 35 per tablespoon. There are 15 in a medium lemon, meaning 5 per wedge.
"Neither, thanks." She smiled. The grin had become her shield.
"If you say so." He dropped a tablespoon of honey into his cup, making S
LustRough tongue. Smooth skin. Young Night.Lust3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Dear ValentineDear Valentine,Dear Valentine4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Your gifts are flattering, but very, well, frightening. Don't get me wrong. The cards, chocolates, and flowers are all very nice. The locks of hair, however, are not. Nor are the 5 a.m. phone calls.
I must confess that I have a boyfriend who is not a fan of the attention you have been giving me. He found out about you breaking into my car to leave that adorable giant stuffed bear, and has called the police. It would therefore behoove you to cease and desist this romantic endeavor before you are dragged away for stalking. I really do apologize.
The frightened object of your affection
Best of luck in your future romances!
SecretsHidden within a cage,Secrets5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where chicken wire curls in the breeze
and latches onto young flesh,
creating white rings
that mimic finger prints,
lays a secret.
Tightly bound in siblings prayers
that are whispered between the crack in a parent's door
and captured against rapidly falling chests,
begging always to remain unheard.
Shrouded with shame that is tattooed across wrists,
a collection of dates seen only as lies
and forbidden to be divulged
around late night coffee stains.
Its OkayIts Okay5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Have you ever lost someone you love?
Did you cry all night,
And into the next day?
Your tears flowing fast?
...Its okay to be sad.
Did you scream at the world,
And at your family and friends?
Yell cruely at nothing?
...It's okay to be mad.
Did you try to hurt yourself
And hurt others instead?
Blood falling down?
...Its okay to ask for help.
Did you fall into denial,
And refuse to move on?
Still seeing them there?
...It's okay to live your life.
Did you lash out at what was gone,
And get no response?
Words falling on def ears?
...It's okay to want them back.
Did you run away,
And find yourself lost?
In the middle of nowhere?
...It's okay to go home.
Did you hide your pain,
And let it build deep inside?
Untill it changed who you were?
...It's okay to let it out.
Did you break down,
And let it all go?
Finally let it all free?
We're here to help,
So let it all out,
PushYou don't wannaPush4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Exercise down my throat
Like a miracle drug
To make the pain F
You Don't...You don't care that I'm still here waiting (for you)You Don't...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You don't care that I haven't been able to move on.
You don't want to know that I can still hear your
l u l l i n g m e t o s l e e p.
You don't want to know that your smell is still on
ReunionRaine felt desperately low class as she sat on the back porch of her Uncle Marvin's country home, sipping homemade mulberry wine from a red plastic cup and swatting away mosquitoes. Or gnats. She couldn't tell anymore. Her family, both extended and immediate, didn't seem to mind the situation as much as she did. Each seem pleased with the too-sweet wine, hoppy beer and dollar-store soda as they occupied themselves with family ties. Adults stood in various groups on the expansive, crab-grassed lawn, talking politics, food, sports, kids, anything really; and nothing at the same time. A group of shirtless uncles and male cousins played bocce, cigarettes and college brand beer bottles skillfully grasped in one hand as they deftly rolled brightly-colored grapefruit sized balls toward the safety-orange pallino. The younger ones were running wild behind the far-off tree line, waging war via volleyball, or swimming in the river that cut through the property. Unlike Raine, none of them seemed tReunion5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Awakening shadows among sunsAwakening shadows among suns5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Can you breathe when you're half awake and half asleep?
... My vision is blurred in a daydream, but there is nothing more real when you fight the vagueness that engulfs your own history.
I open my eyes to golden fields and the calm sets in.
Maybe it is better to dream in a mortal mind rather than the omnipresent falling of quiet suns that take a hold of you.
And I look back in order to face my own gaze and will never be a stranger to myself.
Far from PerfectI cannot stand hypocrisy,Far from Perfect5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
though I know I'm guilty of it.
I care nothing for dishonesty,
but I've told a lie or two.
I do not condone betrayal,
yet I've set a few fires
along the way.
I would never blame another
if the blame was mine to take.
My intention was never to hurt you,
but it happened just the same.
I do not expect forgiveness,
I doubt I could give it
I would never claim perfection,
though I am a perfectionist.
This just means I never finish anything,
because I'm never happy with how it ends.
So I guess you could say
I'm far from perfect.
I would certainly agree.
At least I'm honest about it,
just as sure as the words you read.