What Happens at the Bowling Alley....To be completely sure, I am not one who harbors any violent tendencies. However, I can be provoked. When I am, there's always a very good reason behind my responses. When some snot-nosed, twelve year old toothpick of a boy at the bowling alley decided to waltz up, and for whatever reason steal my brand new forty dollar felt fox-ear hat right off my head, and saunter off into the boy's bathroom, well, that's just not going to stand. MIND YOU, I don't know this boy. I've never met him in my life, but GOD, you could smell the arrogance on him. Of course, I went after him, I don't know what made him think I wouldn't come into the boy's bathroom if he's got something of mine (obviously, none too bright). I screamed at him a little bit, and he hid behind the door, which I used to squish him, at least twice I slammed it into him. Then, I opened it, cornered him, put on my meanest, ugliest face, and demanded that he give it back. Little git nearly lost his fluids. And other bodily wastes. I go
Take Care of Me"Take care of me, please," he pleads.Take Care of Me3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"But, oh, love, I am..." she replies. "I give you your food, and your medicine, and I clothe you, clean you--"
"Oh you haven't given me care. Not any care in the world."
"How dare you! I have given my time willingly to be your support!"
"I am not dying from this disease, that's ravaged my body.... I die from a lack of love."
"Nonsense. The inane babble of a sick man. If you were going to die, all the love in the world wouldn't prevent that."
"Oh, but it might; then, it might not. But in the end we all just want to be held." He said.... and so died.
I can stop it anytimeShe was 13.I can stop it anytime3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was 13 years old, still a child, when I found the syringes in her bedroom.
In the bedroom of a child.
I took them in my hands, they were so weightless, so colorful, they appeared harmless, but I knew they weren't.
They were so dangerous, more dangerous than the alcohol I consumed, more dangerous than the cigarettes I smoked.
I showed them to her, and she shrugged.
"Don't act like it's something bad", she said. "I can stop it anytime, if I want to."
Later I searched my purse, searched it everywhere, but couldn't find it.
I asked her, and she looked at me innocently and said she doesn't know.
But I knew that she was lying.
She was stealing my money to buy more heroin.
Her friend was with her, and looked at her, at me, at her again.
It was her only friend, even though she once was the most popular girl at school.
But nobody wants to have to do something with someone who's taking drugs.
Her last friend left her when she was 16.
She was all alone now, was stealing, had to go
Ah, FairUpon her shoulders a cloak of ash,Ah, Fair3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
and in her hand, a crystal pear.
Upon his brow, a crown of bramble.
His voice is carried on the air.
A time of rest, a time of sleep,
He wore no shoes upon his feet.
And as she spoke her voice was deep.
And as he spoke his voice was meek.
O, chaos, crystal, shattered care,
the light that catches, tosses, ere,
a sun might shine on those who keep,
a love through all the ages fair.
HopeWorry not, my one, for if you'll hear;Hope3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Put the dead ground to thine ear,
Hark! Spring's new sound shall echo through
Thine chest, thine eyes, are born anew.
Sports"Chloe, do something!"Sports3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My mind comes rushing back to the stuffy sports hall
My class are staring at me expectantly.
I look at the old, dull basketball at my feet,
And half-heartedly throw it
Out of court.
I hear a chorus of 'boos'
"Nice one, loser"
"Gee, what a throw"
Sarcastic comments are hurled at me as the other girls run past,
Their long, tanned legs barely covered by the regulation PE shorts.
I look down my pale, thin and bruised knees.
At least I'm small enough
For the shorts to cover the trail of cuts
On my thigh.
I retreat back into the corner of the court
Waiting for the bell to ring,
And send me to an hour of maths.
As I walk out of the changing rooms,
I hear cackles behind me:
"Can't even throw a ball"
"I don't think she's ever made eye contact, like, ever!"
I run away with tears pouring down my cheeks.
Holding a pack of gauze
To the line of
Running down my arm,
I replay the sounds I heard
During sports class.
The voices change,
NarcissusWhen it came to homosexuality, Miles was old-fashioned. He was embarrassed, a little ashamed and had waited until both of his parents were dead. He was a little disconcerted by the world of modern relationships. The physical aspect was embarked upon immediately. Love, however, could only be mentioned when the couple had been together for a suitable period of time. The rule was you can't love someone you don't know.Narcissus3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Miles had fallen in love with Brett instantly. Helplessly. He'd never experienced such panic and hope. Sex seemed inevitable, completely out of his control. But it hadn't happened. Affection hadn't materialised either. Reality reasserted itself. Brett didn't feel the same way about him. Brett didn't feel that way about anyone. There were countless admirers surrounding him male and female. He was young and beautiful. Astoundingly beautiful. Miles would have done anything for him. Which is why he'd made the mistake of agreeing to become his agent.
It was only a small mo
The Faceless GirlIf you took away the iron shellThe Faceless Girl3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
If You took away the laughter
If you took away these things
She would rebel
Against the charade that was her master.
If you took away the happiness
and the illusion of fake courage
You would begin to see the shyness
And the Faceless Girl would flourish.
You would've seen that
She was not what she seems
The Joyfulness would break away
Revealing all her broken dreams.
You'd see she cried not from her eyes
For she had none
But she cried from her saddened soul
In the light she had begun
But the darkness took its toll.
She was the faceless girl
That no one seems to see
Her silent screams reveal
she wanted to be is free.
She wore a mask of joy
That people seemed to like
But underneath the mask
she cried with every strike
Do you not see how
Your forked tongue slashes
Opening up the scars
Of previously made gashes
Do you not notice
How the faceless girl pretends
she looks like a beautiful Lotus
But her weary life, she ends.
In the dimly lit white room
She used a
HopeLet those unwanted memories pass,Hope3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And be positive and start anew
Forget the awful past,
And look forward to where you're heading to
Let us head towards the road of hope,
With a thousand doves passing by
In a vast field of withered grass,
Grows a sprout with utmost pride
As you mourn from a grave mistake,
Let me tell you about the box of Pandora
When you feel you are not worth a task,
Remember that everyone has his flaw
Never let the tiniest of discourages
Become a hindrance in your way
Instead of worrying and worrying,
Be happy, be gay
Don't Leave meDon't leave me . . .Don't Leave me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know who you are,
But I know what you did.
You left me, a baby.
Don't leave me . . .
How do you sleep?
Knowing I'm out in the world?
That I could've been calling you daddy?
Don't leave me . . .
Does your wife know about me?
Did you ever think to tell her?
That you had a daughter out of state?
Don't leave me . . .
But you already did.
ReflectionsI contemplate of the dissociative phases,Reflections3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
marking a past and hesitant future wandering beyond the black,
painting a crimson canvas and hushed memories,
wandering away from a distant reality;
these limbs are not attached,
nor is the mind to a heartbeat,
gradually seeping within the soil,
and silencing the last plea for redemption.
StarvingI eat because I'm not hungryStarving4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I starve because I am
Clean hands are always dirty
It's all just an honest sham
I'm happiest when I cry
I do my best when I don't try
I love her 'cause she hates me
I am because I can't be
Warm blood flows through skin stone cold
I listen to what I'm not told
I close my eyes when I'm cognizant
Wide open when the world seems distant
I'm smart because I don't know
Watering a rose that will never grow
I know where I am when I am lost
I love the warmth of winter's frost
I often finish before I start
Listening to the beat of a lifeless heart
Giving things I don't posses
Terrifying the brave and fearless
I'm openly locked up tight
Take a left when they say "go right"
In the shadows I quietly scream and holler
Such a hateful little lover
I'm silently floating on the ground
I can truthfully tell her a lie
I'm loudest when I don't make a sound
Maybe I will awaken
T h e d a y I f i n a l l y d i
My Mouth ShutI hadn't really thought about it,My Mouth Shut3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
really what I'd wrote
was just a prose
a little thought inside my head
a thought of you.
The sticky words caught in my throat,
I'm bound to choke
upon the sentiment
I cannot yet undo,
I feel just like you do.
I'll say it soon;
I love you, too.
The Real MeCharades was the game we always played.The Real Me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Except no one was there to ever guess.
No one seemed to care about what I was.
They couldn't see through my disguise at all.
They didn't even try.
I keep it all bottled up.
Everything bottled up inside of me.
No one tries to dig deep enough,
To break the seal on what's hiding the real me.
They all take my answers of "I'm fine",
But I really want someone to say,
"No you're not."
And actually try to find
The real me.
05 January 2012
After AllAfter All3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
It's sad to say this, but it's still true,
These simple words fit more than you do.
I look at my reflection,
But she's not me.
I look at the connection,
But it's something I can't see.
Who's this girl?
She's not me.
Each hair curled perfectly.
I still can't forget her face.
What's her name? Where's she from?
Where's her place, to belong?
On the outside she looks so happy,
So she can't be me.
In the pond, at the park,
In the window, when it's dark,
I can see her. She looks so confused.
I see sorrow and pain,
Only the abused can contain.
In her eyes tears are threatening to fall.
What a surprise, she's me after all.
He is..He is the reason i have anxiety attacksHe is..3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He is the reason i barely am able to deal with my depression
He is the reason i have anger issues
He is the reason i hate this family
He is the reason i grew up mentally abused
He is the reason that my mind is falling apart
He blames me.
He calls me the "asshole"
He is my Father
But not my dad.