The End of the Relationship"Not football again. Let's watch Twilight."The End of the Relationship in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Power of Broccoli"Six foot..."The Power of Broccoli in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
EmigrantSpoke English.Emigrant in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Always thought in Italian.
Theological Discussion"Is there a God?"Theological Discussion in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Where's the Eiffel Tower?Ticket: Paris, FranceWhere's the Eiffel Tower? in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Plane: Paris, Texas
Feathering Your NestSold my homing pigeons.Feathering Your Nest in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Handlebar"Luxuriant moustache, sir!"Handlebar in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"It's 'madam', actually..."
BedriddenBedridden:Bedridden in Free Verse More Like This
Here I lie, motionless,
A prisoner within my own body.
Yet there lies a subtle clarity;
A moment of understanding, achieved by infirmity.
And though my body is racked with pain,
My conscious mind delves ever deeper into the pool of the soul.
My mind is flooded with a racket of noise.
I am cast into the swirling rip-tide of forbidden knowledge,
Clinging to the flotsam of sanity as a Leviathan roars below.
It swallows me into an acidic whirlpool.
Drowning me deep beneath the bubbling surface of the past.
And there, in the murky depths where my very self begins to rot,
A grinning maw of tongues and fangs, bids me a cold "hello!".
-Chen Yuan Wen, 26th June 2013
Sweet SerenityI have searched the very depths of my being,Sweet Serenity in Free Verse More Like This
Seeking the essence of the void...
To understand its nature,
To become a part of nothing...
For where else can we be free of turmoil,
Where else can a beaten soul go to rest?
If not in the comforting embrace of eternal oblivion?
Such is what I seek, away from the noise that burns at my ears.
Away from the many voices that drill into my mind.
For these are not the whispers of psychosis,
Nor the delusions of a twisted psyche.
Instead they are the whispers that are heard all around us;
The whispers of the every-man.
He who desires the body of another.
He who desires the fat of his wallet.
He who cares only for self-satisfaction
And He who wishes to stand above all.
Voices, voices, noisy voices...
Eternally spitting their foul words into me.
Even in the realm of fantasy I can no longer escape!
For they are here, and I read their words scrawled across th
Just Smile...Perhaps I should confess to you,Just Smile... in Free Verse More Like This
That I am trapped within this box of crushing insecurity...
Screaming as I shatter my nails against the wall.
But I'm sure you'll tell me to just smile and wave.
STALKERYou cannot run from your past...STALKER in Free Verse More Like This
No strangled whisper,
No repentant plea of yours can escape these eyes.
For I have always been watching...
You believe yourself to be righteous,
But your actions have consequences!
You will not leave this place tonight,
Not while your heart remains beating.
And when you are worn from your escape;
When you are forced by exhaustion,
To shut those fevered eyes.
In your moment of weakness, I will arrive...
Justice will be served tonight,
Whilst the shadows dance with expectant glee!
You may forget what you have done,
But you will never be innocent...
EyesThey told me not to look,Eyes in Free Verse More Like This
But I always do.
I can't help it you know?
Their eyes are so beautiful...
Each one shines with a colour from the rainbow.
Some are green, some are blue.
You might even find a set of gold amongst the lot.
Some of them shine like pearls,
Others twinkle like stars in the sky.
Each one holds a fragile soul,
Each one has its own sense of depth.
And so, I always end up looking into their eyes...
Right before I blink mine and I firmly squeeze the trigger...
Oh No I Know A Dirty WordOh No I Know A Dirty Word:Oh No I Know A Dirty Word in Free Verse More Like This
Oh me, oh my, these are dirty words
How low-class, vulgar and simply absurd
You must be a thug, you've no sense of style
Let me sip some tea that was made erstwhile
I shall proceed to comment about who you are
and pointlessly engage you in a mental spar
I must prove my point to be whole you see
for the protection of the word is a duty to me
See I love to pretend that I'm someone pure
Never dirtied a sentence or darkened a door
It's like I'm holy and utterly clean
So don't take my tone as being mean
I'm simply trying to help you right?
Let me show you how to be a snob on sight
Never use the language meant for 'boobs'
do you realise it's a synonym for a gormless rube?
Ah ha! You didn't, that means I'm right
My intellect wins; have you seen the light?
Oh my, what are you doing, that knife looks sharp
Eek! Help! You're stabbing my heart!
And that is why I killed him your honour...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th September 2012
We Need Villains NOT HeroesFor the longest time I have admired heroes. I imagined them to be people of change, people who would bring the world forward and take us to even greater heights. It was then however, that I realised the 'Human Obstacle'.We Need Villains NOT Heroes in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Humans as I discovered, perhaps in the most painful of ways, are rather unintelligent beings. They are driven by their core instincts no matter how much they wish to deny it. And the only difference between one and the next is how deeply they let those instincts consume them.
If you walk out into the streets, you can see the well-adjusted average man. Yet in his mind he is not considering the good he could do with his life, he is only thinking about the next step. Where will I go next? Who will I be dating, what shall I enjoy next in life?
There is no thought of altruism; no sense of assistance for another. He could walk down an alleyway filled with the homeless and nothing would change...
If that is the case, then what is the path of truth? Is it doing
Sorry I'm A ManSorry I'm A Man:Sorry I'm A Man in Free Verse More Like This
He stands there naked
A blank-faced label
He is not an individual
He is exactly what you make him to be
The product of your misguided hate
The product of your personal prejudice
Caught blind and shackled
Voice stripped and throat cut
On knees and hands
He crawls beneath a slanderous hail
"Let they who are without sin, be the first to cast a stone"
Then you must all be innocent, unblackened and pure
Instead what I see
Is not angel wings and a white halo
Instead what I see
Is your silent profanity
Twisted obscene mask of humanity
Beneath the righteous sword of a figure of justice
Lies a rotting core of devil's teeth and black smoke
Crooked mirror of lies
"Guilty until proven innocent"
Is what I see in your eyes
He is not an individual
He is exactly what you make him to be
He is the monster, the abuser, the criminal and the pig
He is the violent, the drunk, the pervert and the enemy
Care not for the fact that he is a perso
She Dances With FireShe dances with fire, a dragon in tow.She Dances With Fire in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Twirling with flames; graceful and slow
She dances tonight, in a city of ash.
Her feet leaving footprints, where the sand will splash.
Quietly mourning, as time goes by;
Where once she beheld a home in her eyes...
Yet naught but the barest of bones remain,
And so she dances, to soothe the pain.
WishHope.Wish in Short Stories More Like This
Though some might claim that it brings with it only a futile sense of expectation, few can deny that without it, many a despairing soul would have long ago lost their minds and their lives.
So, fueled by this same hope, and also instinct embedded in our very nature we will grasp for a thread of light when faced with naught but darkness, no matter how fragile that thread might seem to be. Even a tenuous connection to hope, after all, is far better than none at all.
For the desperate will cling to these threads, dreaming of a future filled with the joy that their lives lack, no matter how impossible that future might be.
And from that one action, they somehow gain the strength to carry on when otherwise they might have given up.
Let not, though,
HopeHope.Hope in Short Stories More Like This
One of the greatest allies you could have, and yet at the same time, also one of your greatest enemies. For what else could life your spirits in your time of greatest need, but also blind you to the truth, cause you to view the world through distorted lenses?
And when she deserts you, she'll leave you empty, because by that time, you won't be able to live without her. Despite what you might think, she isn't to be trusted; her whispers of a beautiful world that will come, if you only just wait, are nothing but delusions, lies.
But Hope, she is powerful, far more than any mere mortal like you or I, and even knowing all this, you will believe her. That is a fact, one that will never change. Because it is instinct to cling to any thread of light, and any creature will follow instinct, even if it knows that that thread is false, that what might be its saviour today will almost definitely lead to its downfall again eventually.
So keep trusting that beautiful little trickster, because t
Tale of TwoHe is the one nobody sees.Tale of Two in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The boy in the corner of the room, the one who speaks only when spoken to, that constant, shadow-like presence that is noticed only by others when he's gone, and they wonder why they feel as though something is missing.
It is no wonder, then, that one of the things he seeks the most is recognition. This, and one, two, a few people he might be able to call "friends."
And who can blame such a person for making the choices he did?
"You'll be one of us."
This is the message they feed him, the words that he has longed for more than anything else, words he needs to hear with almost the same necessity as the need to breathe, or the need for nourishment.
But of course, it could never be as simple as this. Because, of course, no great gift is given without a single catch.
"Just do as we do. Forget what they told you was right. If you want to fit in, then you'll have to be like us."
The notion entices him in a way nothing else has -- give up a small fr
Confession of Betrayal"There was a time when I feared you, avoided you, for what you were - before I knew the person you were. A time, even, when I believed that because of that, you would have to die. That you were evil because of that irrational fear, and that all things 'evil' must be eradicated." She sighed deeply, clutching his hand for support as she spoke the truth that she'd never told him.Confession of Betrayal in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"When you first spoke to me, and I answered, I lied. I was willing to sacrifice my own morals if it meant reaching my goal. Killing you."
He watched her expressionlessly as she confessed what she had meant to tell him long ago, but had never had the chance - or perhaps the courage - to do so.
"And what made you change your mind?"
She blushed and glanced downwards, before continuing. "I-it... Honestly, I don't know. I was..." She mumbled incoherently to herself, and he patiently waited for her to speak up again.
"Every day, I plotted against you, even while I gave you fake smiles and claimed to be some
Lonely LilyA girl wandered through town, alone. No one would talk to her. No one would play with her.Lonely Lily in Short Stories More Like This
She was lonely; so, so lonely.
And yet, still, she smiled.
You see, she believed that someday, someday, someone would be able to see past her looks to understand that she actually was quite a sweet, kind person.
Because this young girl, Lily, was a dreamer.
What she didn't understand, though, was that she was unnatural. Of course, she didn't ever see others like her. But she thought that was simply because she'd never left the small town she'd grown up in.
She never questioned her existence, or even how it was possible for her to be alive.
The others did, though. They also wondered why they had to be the ones to be cursed with her presence. Why could she not exist in some other place, in some other time?
So lonely little Lily, oblivious to their thoughts, would often approach other children. Yet always, always, they would run away, screaming for her to go away.
This, she loathed. It made her bloo
Used to BeThe clumsy fingers of a child reached for the crank on the back of the music box, grasping it in an awkward grip and winding it around and around until the delicate skin of those fingers began to protest the action. Then, smiling, she released it, listening to the soft chiming music play. Her mother was seated behind her, watching as she laughed and danced to the mechanical melodies.Used to Be in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The music gradually faded, and she frowned at the box, then took the nearly identical one next to it and wound it. With the deeply scrutinizing gaze of a girl who was an entire nine years old, she studied the handle as she let go. For some reason, this song brought about different feelings, and instead of prancing around as she had before, she instead ran up to her mother, grabbing the woman's hand with two of her own small ones.
"Which one do you like more?" the child's mother questioned, and the girl immediately pointed to the first one.
When she was asked why, she answered, "The other song... It's slow
HatredEvery word you speak to me only serves to fuel that flame of hatred that has burned since those early days, years ago when I was still a child.Hatred in Emotional More Like This
And that strange "forgiveness" I feel towards you is only ever temporary, birthed from the indifference that comes about after the initial rage dies down.
But every word you speak is a reminder of everything I despise in you, from these flawed ideals you try to force upon me to this false sense of beauty you've convinced yourself that I desire to conform to.
You are the reminder in my life that common sense is a rarity these days, that there is no reason to believe in others.
Often, I regret that this is the way things are, that one of those who should be the most important to me is the one I honestly despise the most.
But no matter how I try, your every action evokes in me that same buried rage, and any thoughts of reconciliation are destroyed.
I know I should share the blame; certainly, I don't lay it all upon yo
IntentionsSo he stood on the blood-stained ground, searching for life. He looked at his fallen comrades, and made an oath...Intentions in Short Stories More Like This
I will become strong. The strongest. And then, perhaps, I will be able to protect them all. Because his friends, they may be dead, but there were others he still could help, if he had the strength.
And he trained, fought, killed, until he was great - the greatest? Then, he was feared.
He slaughtered them, then, murdered more than any could count. But even then, it wasn't enough. For still some remained, some with power.
I must destroy them all, for only then will I truly be strong. So he set out to do so, and he did.
And so, the one with good intentions... he became the worst of them all.
Swan LakeSwan Lake in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
shimmers and sparkles
all the stars come out to play
wishes without end
The one who writes us is downThe one who writes us is down in Free Verse More Like This
[ The one who writes us is down ]
The one who writes us is down to four poems a year,
four tones of silence at the center of something,
and then he tells us it is time to go.
The woman is a sculpture, the man
is a shadow, the day is a comma
and four notes of a song.
The trees are roots grown un-rooted,
deep-souled and sealed in a shallow of soil.
We are just four as chrysanthemums blow past us
and a scarlet bird weeps to welcome her mate.
Then the man who writes us
is down to a shadow of something,
expelling impatience in turn for a shell,
the bone of a dog unchewed and uncharted
and the roll of a stone at the foot of a cliff.
The one who writes us turns on the lights
first thing in the morning
and leaves them lit until darkness comes on.
He grabs at grasshoppers
and is unsure once he's caught them
how to begin letting them go.
He has hands made of orchids.
His palms are woven with green.
He unmakes the moon, and dreams
by undreaming a dragonfly's flight.
He speaks to himself confusing
PuzzlePuzzle in Free Verse More Like This
The boy grows pale, weakens
with a cough, fades
until he becomes
a blue piece
of a puzzle
his mother is still piecing
She lifts it- him-
from the table top,
and feels the echo in her fingers,
the feeling of her hands
tracing through his hair,
the back of her hand
against his brow,
and pauses. There is something so familiar
in the feel of the piece, wooden,
living in her palm.
But such confusion:
It is the kind of blue
she can lose herself within,
a deep turquoise, bluer
than the ocean, not so
green as the sea,
darker than the sky, almost night,
a beautiful blue,
is it too dark for her boy-
She can't say. She doesn't know
whether to surrender to tears of grief
or joy, or simply to
by a shape cut
to fit into another shape
that is not her.
Her hand hesitates.
Even as she thinks she knows
where to move it, how
to place the piece- her boy-
balanced between her fingers,
once she places the piece
upon the table, fits
UnderwaterUnderwaterUnderwater in Free Verse More Like This
I feel myself
taking the shape of the rain, the shape of the wind,
can finally recognize my own features
looking up, looking out, obscured
by the green depth of water.
And I feel
the change of motion
as our bodies act upon one another.
Moonlight tugs at my tides,
I pull back on the moon, and we slide
into and across each other,
fixed but fluid, yielding yet taut.
The line of reeds breaks through our surface,
slides side to side in the dark
as if with something to say.
All around, the loons grow silent
in the falling measure of night.
The plop of frogs
leaping into the lake
echoes against the plateau,
stirs the bullhead
that come into shore to feed in the dark.
I can almost break
to the thin air above;
the moon's silver path beckons,
but my fingers and face
are stopped at the belly of the lake,
glimmering and transparent,
Mostly with sunset, but all night
and through the day, the oaks
reflect themselves against the water,
cast webs of
A strand of sun.A strand of sun in Free Verse More Like This
A strand of sun.
Twilight: and the stars
are already coated
with the wax of prayers.
I slept this afternoon
in the songs of a dozen
with the pollen, a purr
of jets, groundskeepers'
shouts in Spanish.
the maples exposed
the silver bellies of their leaves
in a rush of motion that said,
never touched my lips
once, and yet,
to find in my mouth
a strand of gold.
Here is the sign;
of you, for you.
I fish it from my tongue
and hold you before me,
glittering in the dusk.
Tiger 2Tiger 2 in Free Verse More Like This
A child flips through his book.
What is it? he asks.
The story of a boy and a tiger,
each tracking the other for
the chance to
the boy is a man
who does what men do.
He retreats through the pages
and pulls words from his mouth,
strings of blue marbles.
He raises them
to the light.
Now what? he asks.
The words break apart.
footfalls in grass.
stripes on the streets.
cats colored coal
at the heart of each bead.
tiger's eye shards in the earth.
He repeats to himself, here
WaterWater in Free Verse More Like This
The doctor stooped to lay the stethoscope against his chest,
and I strained to hear the sound of the heart
echoing with the waves washed from our lake of old,
the white-frothed foam that gasped up
one word only: storm.
But his heart was silent as he was still,
and I rocked myself, silenced and unquiet,
a hand in his white hair. It moved like reeds
in the slap of those green waves.
His skin, too,
was white from walking
the winters of my dreams for months.
I would walk with him, through dream into
anything after. This he did not know
now I could carry him to the water,
fragile as autumn's final leaf come next year's spring,
to draw his body into the chill, cold after cold,
cradling his face to slip it last
through the water into vanishing.
Fish move close
to circle around his eyes, to gather at his lips
in a whitewash ceremony of scale and skin.
They touch their fins to his fingers
and wash away as I submerge.
Inside Out"I think I wear my soul inside out."Inside Out in Emotional More Like This
"My soul. It's inside out."
"That's a strange thing to say."
"I have all the symptoms though."
"And what are the symptoms of this disea-"
"It's not a disease."
"All right. What are the symptoms, then?"
"I care too much about all the wrong things, I worry about odd things, my heart breaks too easily and my brain feels a little too asymmetrical to the things that are supposed to be fun."
"You know parties and alcohol and normal things. Like that."
"Nothing. What do you care too much about?"
"Everything. Global warming. The whales. Aliens. Israel. Sarajevo. The Ozone-"
"I get it. Everything that counts and you can do nothing about by yourself."
"You sound cynical."
"You sound paranoid."
"It's just honest. What worries you?"
"The fact that you are too self involved to notice."
"If I disappear."
"You idiot. Ofcourse I will notice if you disappear. I'd not
Moving On"It all seems to be in order. Let me just read your last file."Moving On in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"It says here you used to have a girlfriend who was raped whilst you were with her?"
"Did she love you?"
"Yes. More than I could handle, I suppose."
"According to your file you told her she wasn't the one, and that her overfamiliarity with men led her to be in this situation?"
"Er yes? But it's not like I told her she deserved to be raped, it was more-"
"Just yes or no answers would do. Did you do anything prior to this incident to make this girl feel loved?"
"Yes I didn't cheat. I think that's enough for any relationship."
"It also says here that you almost had a child with her."
"Yes. She miscarried."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Don't worry about it I'm not very emotionally attached to such things."
"Did you at least comfort her? Go with her to the hospital? Take her for a routine check up?"
"No. I didn't think that I needed to. She seemed to handle it fine. Besides, at th
Why I Hate Romantic Comedies1.Why I Hate Romantic Comedies in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Because they say that for every single boy who counts the stars, there is a little girl who is wishing upon one. (And they never mention what happens after the stars fade into morning and the other falls into oblivion)
Because they say that people fall in love when the time is right, they are true to each other and are ready to be together. (But no one ever mentions how she is so damaged she can barely think, and he is so cynical that he may never be ready.)
Because they insist that your soulmate is going to be a good, kind, caring human being who will love you from the bottom of their hearts. (This is due to the fact that even if there is someone for everyone, bad people are immune to the soulmate theory.)
Because they always have a happy ending (And real life begins after the sun has set and she has realized that he may not be everything she hoped for and he begins to have second thoughts about commitment.)
Because everything is assured in i
ObsessionIt takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.Obsession in Emotional More Like This
You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.
Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the doctors told us you had an illness. I sat there with your parents, listening to a man who said words like 'terminal' and 'leukemia', and counted the number of times he said 'patient' as if it were your name (Seventeen).
The blood bank says one unit is four hundred and fifty milliliters and I watch as they put the needle into my ar
Complicated"You know, personally speaking, I don't think you're really unwell at all."Complicated in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I'm sorry, are you the one who is sick or am I?"
"There is nothing wrong with you."
"Can you say that again?"
"I said, you aren't sick!"
"Whatever. The receptionist is calling me in, anyway."
"You're a hypochondriac."
"What?! Listen you-"
"Look, just go inside. I'm sure the doctor will say the same thing."
"So. What did the doctor say?"
"That it's complicated."
"Yeah. They need to run more tests and figure it out."
"You sound skeptical."
"You told him that you only get 'sick' in history class."
"And about how your heart races and your hands shake."
"And about how you can't sleep at night and you can't concentrate."
"Yes, yes, all of that, I told him everything I told you."
"Did you also happen to mention the boy who sits in front of you in that class?"
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Tell me something. Have you noticed
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyThe Girl Who Was Afraid To Be in Free Verse More Like This
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
The Girl Next DoorI'm that sweet, quiet girlThe Girl Next Door in Free Verse More Like This
who sits near you in class.
I do all of my homework
and attend every mass.
The teachers all love me.
I'm every parent's dream.
In a nutshell, I'm perfect.
Or, that's the way it may seem.
Because sometimes, I crave a little danger.
I want to be that girl, the one on the back of a motorcylce,
hair flying behind me, arms around that guy,
the one in the leather jacket, speeding down the interstate.
I want to stay out all night.
Nobody needs to know where I am.
I want to take a road trip. I don't need directions or a destination.
Just my friends, a car, and some stubborn determination.
I want to be dared to do something outrageous,
and be reckless enough to actually follow through with it.
I want to tell the world what's really on my mind.
I want to scream.
I want to laugh.
I want to leap before I look.
I want to disregard everyone else's opinions.
But I can't.
I'm still just the girl next door.
Someday, I'll fly like wind.I just don't have a place here anymore.Someday, I'll fly like wind. in Free Verse More Like This
The space for me in others' lives
is steadily filling up with trivial things
and slowly but surely pushing me out.
There's no room for me where I used to fit.
I don't belong where I always have
and I'm just waiting to find somewhere
where the space for me grows in time.
Leaving isn't a fright now. It's my saving grace.
Smile through your tears.She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her worn gray cardigan and looked down at the fraying hems of her oldest, most well-loved pair of jeans. Her scuffed converse shuffled along the sidewalk, kicking decaying leaves out of the way as she moved down the lane. A slight breeze tousled the hair that had strayed from her ponytail, and she shivered and nestled deeper into the warmth of her sweater. Suddenly, she stopped. She had traveled this path so many times before that she didn't even need to look up to realize she had reached her destination.Smile through your tears. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She lifted her head and looked up into the sky, squinting through her glasses at the clouds. Everything was too bright for her these days. She couldn't even remember the last time she had laughed. Surely she hadn't so much as smiled since he left. As she stared into the gray, bordered by the dull and dismal late fall trees, she noticed a small golden brown leaf let go of its branch and sweep through the air, carried alon
WhispersWhisperWhispers in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and I will hear
every word you utter,
But if I scream, you will still hear
HushHush, little baby,Hush in Free Verse More Like This
don't say a word.
Drift off to dreamland,
crystal and bright.
Smile, my darling,
dance and play.
Step into the realm of nightmares,
frozen and dark.
Quiet, my darling,
hold back your scream.
Hush, little baby,
don't say a word.
Thanks For Being You.Thank you.Thanks For Being You. in Free Verse More Like This
Thank you for making me feel beautiful,
even when I look my worst.
Thank you for making me feel worth your time,
even when I hate myself.
Thank you for always making me smile,
even when I'm trying to frown.
Thank you for asking what's wrong,
because I look a little upset.
Thank you for messing up my hair,
because you know it makes me smile.
Thank you for knowing what to say,
because I never know what I want to hear.
I don't know what's going to happen to us.
And I don't know why I mean a thing to you.
But thank you. I'll never forget.
PlaygroundPlayground in Free Verse More Like This
All that autumn her ghost haunted the playground;
no wisping phantom, but strident bits and pieces
clamoring for attention - a pair of black patent
leather shoes waiting expectantly by the teeter-totter.
And Sister Teresa had to pry red woolen mittens
off the jungle gym every morning.
Jimmy Boyle kept seeing her sweater at the swings,
its green wooly arms daring him to go higher
and trying to tag him "it".
And her best friend, Jenny Black
could see the flash of her pigtails
throwing copper across the kickball field
where recess waited to swallow them.
The toys vanished from the sandbox every evening
leaving nothing but a soft trail of disappointment
in their wake -
their accusations of neglect
and longing crouched under the
maple trees, swarming with the bees.
But winter proved a discordant grave -
the protest of frozen ground
an errant melody in the schoolyard
and her shoes kept shrinking
and stumbled down the slide,
leaving a thick crust of frost
like somber tracks that said good-bye
SeptemberSeptember's but a whisper,September in Free Verse More Like This
a curl of autumn
on your cheek
or a wanton leaf
in the tawny gold
and the amber scent
succulent and slumbering,
off your skin
and sends my restless senses
Just me.You always say thatJust me. in Free Verse More Like This
nothings ever good enough
but you need to stop comparing me
I'm not her.
I'm not him.
and I can't be
what you want me to be.
I struggle, ad I struggle
to find that perfect place
that's just mine.
But I know that if I do
nothing will ever been
good enough for you.
I'm not her.
I'm not him.
and I can't be
what you want me to be.
I can only ever be just me.
Some nights I wander,
wondering if I'll ever be
good enough. But as I look
upon the sky
there's nothing there
asking for me to change.
So I'll just realize
that I can only ever be just me.
I'm not her.
I'm not him.
And I can't be
what you want me to be.
I can only ever be just me.
Letter to the WorldA note in a bottle,Letter to the World in Free Verse More Like This
a message for the world.
'If I scream as loud as I could,
would you be able to hear me?
Thrown into the ocean
for the sea to swallow
the single sentence.
As the sea swallows its prize
she lets out a horrible hollow cry
for the world to hear.
The world does nothing
but capture her scream
and store it for later
when it asks why she cries
and why she hurts.
For if she screams as loud as she could
would the world listen?
Or is it just a message in a bottle
meant to be swallowed by the sea?
A true heroA true hero in Free Verse More Like This
don't back down.
You can win
if you only try.
Sword in one hand,
shield in another,
he stands over his charge
ready to die.
He was the person
that you told everything to.
The one you went crying to.
The one who never ran out of hugs.
The one who soaked up your tears.
The one who you carried around everywhere.
The one who always slept by your side.
He's your teddy bear.
He guards over you at night,
because while you might not believe,
the monsters are still there.
They come at night
when you don't expect it
to take what they want.
you don't run to him anymore
your teddy bear remembers.
He remembers the endless love.
He remembers everything.
Every night he stands
sword in one hand,
shield in another,
ready to fight.
All for the person
who loves him the most.
Grow UpWhen I was young,Grow Up in Free Verse More Like This
I knew a girl.
She was so warm and bright,
so I asked her that question
that all children must answer.
'What do you want to be
when you grow up?'
Her eyes lit up with joy
and she jumped with excitement.
No, an astronaut!
I'll be famous
and in movies!
will be everywhere!'
She listed so many more
until she finally just smiled
and looked at me with eyes filled
with child-like wonder.
'I could be anything I wanted.'
Years and years later,
I saw the same girl again
but her eyes no longer
lit up with wonder.
I asked her,
'What did you end up being?'
She smiled the hollow smile
that adults have when talking to the young.
'Not what I wanted to be
when I was young.'
Nothing more was said on the matter
but I could see that there was no more wonder
in the eyes that once shone so brightly.