Still the Same Girl (Revised)The Abyss was singing her to Its bedside tonight, unfolding black sheets into soft and smoky wisps. Let go, It hummed. You gave so much already. Come rest, Nami. There’s no sense in fighting it any longer.
A few steps away from Bell-mère's grave, Nami’s body stood in the moon’s pale and unflattering glow. Her mind, however, wandered elsewhere, opening fragile memories she swore she’d never touch again.
She drew in a sharp, cold breath and hung her head low. Nami was as worn as an old sail flapping limply on the high seas. Those fierce winds, once filling her with joy, now seeped through holes that had been torn through her spirit. Many had knifed Nami, but none so much as her sister. Nojiko’s last words weaved in and out of her head: “You're still the same girl.”
Nojiko. She couldn't have been more wrong than a rock with an eye patch. That so-called “girl" had perished with her mother, Bell-mère.
Those Green EyesShe glanced back over her shoulder. Her green eyes appeared to glow in the sunlight sifting through the window. "I'll see you later, right?"Those Green Eyes5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Yeah. Um, does five sound good?"
She walked back to him. "Five sounds great."
He smiled, staring into those green eyes again. "All right. I'll see you then."
A man of about twenty-five years shuffled his way up to the top of a hill. In front of him stood a mass of people, all dressed in black, some stifling their faces with tissues, others were guiding family members with a firm hand.
God, if I had only known...
But he hadn't. He had been waiting patiently at that cheesy Italian restaurant on the corner of Wayne Street and 7th Avenue for two long hours, the alight candle on his table dwindling to an idle ember. After forty minutes passed, he called her on his cell phone, and left a simple message telling her to call him back as soon as possible. Three martinis later, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He rushed to
If the Sun Doesn't Rise for MeIf the sun does not rise for me tomorrowIf the Sun Doesn't Rise for Me5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Don't bathe in your sorrow
Don't come and mourn
Even though I am torn
I will see the light at the end of the tunnel
If you wallow in your tears for me
The person I was, please see
Remember me at my best, not at my worst
Like when we laughed excessively, for a first
Or when I looked into your eyes and realized
That maybe something in life could be idolized
If the sun does not rise for me tomorrow
Think of me
But let your future be full
The Walk of the InfatuatedI smileThe Walk of the Infatuated4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And hide my face
Behind a cloud of ignorance.
I want to be oblivious,
Want to be unaware
Of the fact that
You might not like me.
I hold my head
Higher than most,
Hoping, wishing one day
You'll notice me;
You'll see me at full value
And not at the value
The world gives me.
And if you never notice me,
I'll keep on walking,
Hands stuffed in my pockets.
My eyes will remain dead on the horizon,
My faith never changing,
Because I know someone else
Is waiting down that long and dusty road.
Rumbles(The stage is dressed in white, highly reflective panes of glass hanging down from above, the effect being the interior of an opaline crystal. The panes are arranged randomly—not messily, but without a clear design or functionality to the arrangement. At various points around the stage, there are “mounds” which crop up at various heights. The light is soft and clear, yet there is a sense of movement—a sense of life—in it. MAN is sitting just off-center, on a relatively short mound, and is biting into an invisible apple.)Rumbles3 years ago in Drama More Like This
(calling upward) Do you hear me chewing up there? (to the “apple”) Nice and crunchy. Nice and crispy—no, “crisp,” rather. Nice and crisp. (calling upward again) Do you hear me? (beat) Hmm… Whether I eat the core or not, I believe, has no bearing on my state. Doomed, damned, done for.
(MAN finishes the “apple,” throws the core back ov