Riding in the back of a car in the dimly lamplight 9:00. Bumps punctuating the forest to either side. How had that conversation started? The middle:
"Well, my sister "
Fingers slithering towards wrist. A casual stiffening of shoulders at contact, synchronized perfectly with the sound of the title. After the explanation:
"I don't want them to put me in therapy because I cry or something."
They had no right sitting that 3rd grader in a green chair across from a lady with spiky blond hair. The uncomfortable chair always kept reserved for the entrance of a doubly braided head next to a plusher couch. The chair always occupied.
"Well, I'm depressed so I kind of need that "
"So am I."
Measured exhale. Fingers alert at wrist. But why?
"Really? You always seem so happy "
"Yeah masks." An ironic grin to no one. Even scrambling nails couldn't tuck away that concept eagerly jotted down by two poets so long ago.
A flash of light from one
MonsterWhy can't I stop?Monster3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know I don't want to
But it's so irresistible
It gnaws at my soul
Telling me to do it
But I gotta stay strong
Can't bow down to the beast
That lives inside me
I mustn't let go
To my will power
Images flash through my mind:
My cold, pale skin
The vibrant, maroon blood
It courses down my wrist
Like a river of sorrow
Releasing itself upon my arm
With it goes my anger
Gone with the swipe of a blade
I mustn't give in
I must stand tall
But I can't
My hand reaches
The cold metal
Feels good in my hand
I hesitate-but I can't
One quick swipe
The crimson liquid starts to pool
Soon my arm is in slices
Like my soul
Look like I'm
Not strong enough
The beast within
The ChurchSociety: "I have questions?"The Church3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Don't Cry Please...No more crying, I can't take it.Don't Cry Please...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It hurts me to see those tears streaming down your face.
I'd fix everything for you if I could.
I'd trade my world for yours any day.
I'd give you my life,
Just to see you happy.
And so you don't have to go through any more pain.
Don't you see I'd do anything for you?
Can we please just be happy about that?
No more crying...
The choice.Do I want to die?The choice.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know.
How would I die?
A slow and painful death?
Or quick and painless?
Does it really matter to you?
I suppose not.
I just want to escape.
Run away to a land far beyond.
Beyond the world that I thought I once knew.
The world that has turned so cold.
So cold, its driving me to this.
My own death.
But that's oaky.
I'm happy to go.
Happy to be dead.
I wouldn't have to worry.
Worry, bout the petty things in life.
Bout, the lies and betrayal.
Just that light, at the end of the tunnel.
No one will notice.
There won't have to be no apologies.
I'll be just like a ghost.
Here one day, gone the next.
Care free and happy, in my new world.
Where I can be anyone I wanna be.
Without the judging.
And the hurt.
A place where I'll finally call 'home'.
StarbucksWatching our relaxed carcasses, like vultures.Starbucks3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Tragic CoincidenceI wrote of a bullied suicideTragic Coincidence3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A girl who could no longer handle the hurtful names
The thoughts that went through other's minds
Little did I know
It was happening right before my eyes
Not of the same type of bullying
But bullying nonetheless
She showed no signs
No symptoms at all
To make any of us believe
She wanted out
Just a week before the occurrence
I was thinking of suicide
What it was like
How people need to realize it is real
To realize bullying can easily cause it
I hoped and prayed the domino effect
Would not reach my circle of friends
I guess my prayers were not answered
We do not know
We do not understand what went through her head
Why did she not talk to us?
She promised she would
But now our triangle has been altered
To physical and in spirit
It is coincidental
Bullying is serious
Suicide is serious
Talk to someone please
"Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem "
almost lethalI'm drinking you like pure mercury.almost lethal3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
On some certain days I ask myself; 'Can you really take all her words? Can you really handle all of her?', but till now, I'm not able to answer myself this simple question.
I think, I have to explain something to you (and me.)
There is this big, huge shelf full of thoughts and words and stories and memories and desperation and sadness and lives. (Most of the time, I prefer to talk about it as a shelf full of tea, but whatever it content is, it is full of you.)
I'm unable to pick a tiny box or even just a cup from there and then decide to not read it. It's simply impossible.
[To just think for myself became less favorable.]
Some of your things are delicious. Like a lovely earl grey after a long, hard day. Your words calm my soul and allay my blood. A bit of milk, two spoon full of sugar. Sometimes this is all I need.
But of course, there are also boxes with a patina of rust on it. Their labels are dirty and towelled at some spots. I can
The YouthThe path to success is an obsession for his family. So, he goes to boarding school because everyone expects it of him and it is natural to follow after his spectacular sister's footsteps.The Youth3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
His uneducated parents tell him this day after day as he grows up and changes from a tiny, scrawny boy who played in the mud and the bushes in the mountain forest to a preteen destined for an educated, successful life. He puts on the school uniform everyday that tells everyone in the crowd that, "yes, I am an intelligent child that gives my parents pride."
He lives in a small town with his father who drives trucks across country and a mother who owns a grocery shop, the town's resource and news center. Everyone knows his mother and everyone knows him, his older sister and his younger brother. Therefore, everyone expects great things from all of them. It's only fitting after his parents saved every cent for their education, put all their lives into bettering the years of their children's lives.
Nothing But the Blood~Year 2012~Nothing But the Blood5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was evening near the Chapel in the Wood, and the grass was shiny and wet at the site of the Battle of Morning Sun.
The church, with its white steeple and antique bell tower, was revitalized. A missionary coalition seemed to have drawn everyone back, even me, and we were having a good, old-fashioned revival to celebrate.
The old parsonage across the long lawn was long since bought out by a funeral home. A will was being read there that night, and some school buddies of mine were in attendance. They were more interested in hooking up with locals than in collecting an inheritance. This intrigued me. I slipped out of the revival to go spy on what I hoped would be my acquaintances getting down and dirty. I was not disappointed. The dichotomy in my presence at these events is apparent, but, sadly, such was me.
While observing, I was seized by a fit of conscience, and returned to the church.
GoneSo I'm standing in your apartment andGone4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It smells of liquor and regret.
I'm trying to pack quickly before
You get home, but I still have the time
To notice the red lacy underwear
Thrown in the corner of your bedroom.
And the fact I know they're not mine
Because I hate the color red
Pulls at my heart.
Tears begin to form in my eyes and
I can feel my skin getting hot
Even though I keep telling myself
I should be used to this by now.
You don't deserve someone who fucks
Everything that moves.
He doesn't love you.
I throw in the last of my shirts when I
Hear the door slowly creak open.
My heart stops.
You're standing in the doorway with
A pessimistic smile on your face.
"Babe," you whisper as you walk over
To run your fingers along my face and neck.
"Please don't tell me you're doing this again."
"I'm leaving," I say in a shaky voice and you laugh.
Your lips meet my neck and tighten my grip on my bags.
"I'm leaving," I repeat and you pull away.
"I love you," you say
DisclaimerShe wore disclaimers instead of skin.Disclaimer3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The first pillPill, I have seen every endThe first pill3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and every one will drop and bend
o'er the edge, into the rain
beats now upon my windowpane.
Pill, it comes not from all sides,
but from all cracks and all divides:
within, without or farther still.
It comes and comes and always will.
Pill, inside you may not keep
the final carrier to sleep;
the will, the strength to make things die
but that's okay, for nor do I.
now it's just dirt under my fingernails.Novak carried an umbrella with her everywhere for nine years. And when he asked her why, she told him, "Ever since my dad died, sometimes it feels like the sky is falling."now it's just dirt under my fingernails.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That was six months ago, and he still catches himself checking for cracks between the clouds when it rains.
He likes to remember her eyes. The left was blue and the right was brown, like two people in one, and faded, like old photographs.
But then he remembers that old photographs are the only things she exists in now, and his office will get so small that he needs to go outside to breathe.
He wanted to be gentle, even if he couldn't think of a way how. But things were already ruined between them, and he knew that long before he ever sat her down in his parlor.
"If you have to hate me, I want you to," he said. Her face was deadened by the weight of her pain. "As long as you feel anything for me, I want you to."
She shook her head. And she kept shaking it when he followed her, his bare feet
hypothermiait's the plush feel of the mind's whispershypothermia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(or perhaps it was the wind, dancing with my hair,
kissing its lady hands, licking the back of my neck)
"look," the whispers scribe into the wall that is my brain.
"look. look how the breeze paints grass, bending into a coil, look how the wind whips leaves around in a tango, yet you,
you do not welcome it, you close the doors of your wool jacket,
the zipper trying to break away,
it tells you (let's dance, tango is for two)"
the clouds serenade me,
raindrops whirling with the beat,
my scalp becomes a drum, wet fingers thump,
the zipper slides, the wool wraps around my waist,
Seared Lungs Sing SweeterSeared lungs sing sweeter,Seared Lungs Sing Sweeter4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
so burn, baby, burn.
I'm a child of fire.
I yearn, how I yearn!
Don't give me flowers;
I crave gasoline.
Charm has no powers
over this machine.
My bones are matchsticks -
let's turn up the light.
It's time to transfix,
watch me spark the night.
So come, let us burn,
with no time for prayer.
We'll burn, baby, burn
with ecstatic flare.
Let us die tonight,
die a thousand deaths.
While we're burning bright
smoke will be our breaths.
Come, set a fire,
a blazing nocturne,
here in my bier,
and we'll burn, burn, burn
upon a pyre
of deep desire,
glowing like phosphor
in sweetest rapture.
Lover, come closer,
I promise you'll learn
seared lungs sing sweeter,
so burn, baby, burn.
StoryAlice's world is not an ordinary world. One can say this world only appears in her dream, the other can argue that this world exists in actuality on a parallel plane with the human world. Regardless, only Alice can enter this world, and she has given the world a name.Story4 years ago in Personal More Like This
This world is called Wonderland.
The girl doesn't know how to enter the world, nor does she know how to get out. She knows if she wants to stay, she will stay, and that if she wants to return, she will return. Alice can travel back and forth between Wonderland and the real world by her will, but the gate is a secret or, perhaps, the gate does not exist. It is a paradox, a contradiction, but this is only the beginning, for the world is full of paradox and contradictions.
Wonderland is not a wonderful place. Like the human world, this world has pains and sufferings, and like the human world, this world has laws and authority, society and outcasts. Alice often questions the differ
QuestionsNever ask if unprepared for answers.Questions3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
and then, you changed.For years, you used to ask me what you were to me.and then, you changed.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And I would always say, "Nothing," until you finally understood that there was nothing you could do that could ever hurt me.
When we were children, there were no monsters under your bed. Just dead frogs and lizards from the pond on your doorstep.
You asked your sister, "Why do things die?"
"Because death is a part of life," she told you with a loving hand in your hair and a calming hug waiting for you later. But her eyes pinned me over your shoulder.
She never told you it was because Erik wouldn't stop killing them.
Flowers die, too. So I flattened them in your schoolbooks for you to find.
And you thought it was romantic. You showed them to your friends and told your sister you had a secret admirer.
I often wondered how you would've felt if you saw their ashes blow away with the wind, when I later burned them out on the deck.
It took you two years. You left a note in my locker junior year asking if I wanted to go out
Building a Vocabulary of a Different SortNo good words; made my own.Building a Vocabulary of a Different Sort3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Shugo Chara- Sick Day 5Their lips parted and Ikuto stared cautiously at Amu. She stared at his face, looking for some kind of answer, trying to stare through him to see if an answer could be found anywhere. She subconciously lifted her hand up towards his face and glared at him, utterly embarassed. He knew what was coming next but he did not flinch, he just stared down at her, waiting. Amu's hand shook as she held it up and she bit her lip in disgust. She knew she couldn't hit him because she secretly liked the kiss and she regretted that feeling with all of her being. Her hand dropped to her side and she glanced away from him. "Why did you do that..." she questioned softly. "It's as the legend goes.." he began, his voice unwavering. She reluctantly turned her head and looked back at him. "It's said that if you kiss someone that is sick then the sickness will be transferred." He continued, nonchalantly. Amu stared at the ground for a moment, trying to process what he meant. "So, he wants me to get betterShugo Chara- Sick Day 56 years ago in Teen More Like This