the good don't stayI blinked, shifted and cringed. My body was sore, my mind was cloudy and everything throbbed, especially my feet. I blinked a few more times. Goodness, my eyelids were heavy and my wrists itched—how scratchy the blanket upon my chest was! I took in a deep breath and tried to get past the blurriness.the good don't stay in Personal More Like This
"It looks like we have a survivor. How are you feeling?"
Turning my head, I saw a white coat, and as my eyes drifted up, there was a stethoscope, assorted pens stuffed inside a pocket, a clean-shaven chin and grey eyes. I opened my mouth, but closed it again, because my tongue was dry and I really didn't feel like talking to anyone. Honestly, I was awful at dying. Everything was trying to do me in, even myself, but I just wouldn't.
And then shame filled me when what I had done truly sunk in:
I could have died.
I wiggled my fingers—I was alive.
"How am I feeling?" I rasped as my old temper was aroused by the absurdity of the doctor's question. "I feel fine. Absolutely goddamn dandy. N
Some Simon/Holly dialogues"We should climb up there—we'd have a fantastic view of the ocean," said Simon, gesturing to the nearly vertical pathway that wound its way up the side of the cliff.Some Simon/Holly dialogues in Personal More Like This
"No," she replied with complete and utter finality. "No, absolutely not, that has 'no' written all over it."
"Come on, live a little—have an adventure! Leave your comfort zone!"
"I don't want to have an adventure. I'm content with safe mediocrity, thank you."
"Stop being an asshole, Simon."
"I might be mistaken, but I think that calling a terminally ill person an asshole inside a church might be a sin," he told her.
Holly shrugged. "But didn't the Bible say that telling the truth will set me free?"
"Well, that's life," said Holly flatly.
"Yes, but I don't have the greatest track record at life, do I?" replied Simon. "It's like I missed the memo. Really, I don't get why it's so difficult for me. What is life, anyway? How do you life?"
"Sometimes it just feels like I'm going crazy," said Holly. "
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:Practice Poem - Man In Cage in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012
Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:Practice Poem - Poor Little Timmy in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.
Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...
Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...
Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012
Practice Poem - Artistic FrustrationPractice Poem - Artistic Frustration:Practice Poem - Artistic Frustration in Free Verse More Like This
Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Everything is wrong.
'As then sun dew drips from her eyes'-
Do I really think that'll be good enough?
Hours spent on each piece -
Punctuated only by sound of ripping paper -
To lie crumpled upon my wooden floor,
Unable to be forgotten.
As the hours pass and the day wears on,
More and more worlds are crushed by my hands.
Realities sprawled upon a single piece of paper,
To die as quickly as they are formed.
A man's whose romance is torn in two,
A vampire about to meet his prey.
A werewolf standing against an army
And a boy facing the world alone.
These are the lives that I hold in my hand;
Fictional lives, but precious still.
Yet as soon as I see their imperfections,
I destroy the evidence in a throe of shame.
These crumpled masses that now surround me,
They aren't the proof of perfection's pursuit...
They are merely my feeble, worthless attempts,
To disguise my own ineptitude.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 15th Decembe
Shatter PointShatter Point:Shatter Point in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Can you see
what all the world has-
Done to me
I've locked away my-
I wanna break
My shatter point, my shatter point
I'm up against the wall at my shatter point
A thousand faces keep calling to me into the night
Their whispers drive me further up and away from the light!
Just fall again and-
I want you down and you'll-
Just stop breathing and-
The shatter point, the shatter point
You know that you are up and against the wall
The shatter point, my shatter point
Leave me breaking against my shatter point
A thousand faces keep calling me into the night
I'll waste away in the whispers that taint all the light
Just leave me breaking against the weight of the wall
It keeps me close to the edge until I learn to FALL!
-Chen Yuan Wen, 25th August 2012
DeceptiveDeceptive in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Hey BroHey Bro:Hey Bro in Free Verse More Like This
It's been awhile since I've come by
I guess that's my bad this time
A lot of stuff has changed recently
And I kind of wish that you could see it all
I've got a girlfriend now, she's sweet and caring
I remember when you used to joke that I'd never get one
It always used to make me so mad...
Did you know, she's got green eyes. My favourite colour
She makes great food and I really wish she could have met you
Diablo three finally came out and I know we were waiting for that one
You always used to promise that we'd play it together sometime
But I know that it's impossible with the way things are...
I thought a lot about getting the game, walked into the store even
I tried picking it up, but my hands just kept shaking
I ended up leaving without buying anything...
You know, I still have all of our old stuff...
Your dice, your miniatures, your Paladin character sheet
It's even got that little stain in the corner, the big yellow one
I remember how pissed
A Game We Hate to Play:A Game We Hate to Play:A Game We Hate to Play: in Free Verse More Like This
I stand amongst a screaming crowd,
And you'll hear them shout it out.
"All this shit just isn't fair,
Life's a game but we don't care!"
Hear me, do you think I'm lazy?
When I talk I'm crazy,
Sorry I'm just hazy, but I-
Still think that I'm like Jay-Z
Rappin' here with Stacy;
The boys they call her baby; Haha...
And we're playin' this song for the killers,
The ones with no hope workin' shop at the tillers.
And if you think that we're just the fillers,
You wouldn't be wrong; we're just grain at millers - haha!
All this shit just isn't fair,
Life's a game but we don't care!
We're gonna change the game tonight,
C'mon let's turn out the light!
All this shit just isn't fair,
Life's a game but we don't care!
We're gonna change the rules tonight,
C'mon let's turn out the light.
Lights off, everybody nights off,
Walking through these streets of -
People drinkin' Smirnoff;
Prayers for tomorrows,
Whisper as they borrow
Cold RazorsCold Razors:Cold Razors in Free Verse More Like This
Let it pierce into my flesh
The cold metal of razors
and let me carve into my skin
a wonderous design of love
Love for the pain which I inflict upon myself
Love for the disgusting toxin which I bleed from deep within me
Love for all the people that remind me everyday of how pointless my existence is
Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to say something too?
Did you want to enjoy of this toxic waste?
This nauseating poisonous sulphurous odious mixture of noxious FUMES!
Ah, but you're one of the normal people aren't you
You can comb your hair without pain
You can dye it any colour you want
You can style it in any manner you please...
and yet you choose to complain?
Oh that's right, you can run too
You can run and jump and vault and swim and whatever else you feel like doing
You can enjoying the feeling of wind in your face without the need of
Ah, but that's alright, here let me sit and congratulate you
Let me pat you on the back for bringing glory to us al
A Pirate Makes a PoemA Pirate Makes a Poem:A Pirate Makes a Poem in Free Verse More Like This
Apparently all it takes
Ta get ye works ta slake
Is a simple scheme o' rhyme
Which takes a minute o' time
Perhaps I'll do the same
It's fair ta play this game
No meanin' in tha words
They just flop around like birds
"Oh this stuff it speaks to me!"
Really is that true?
I'm afraid ye might be daft me thinks
Ye certainly be loose a screw
For if works do not have meanin'
Then they're simply done and dull
I think I'd rather spend me time
Playin' dice in a golden skull
I suppose that what tha people want
Is a simple kind o' style
One that looks as good as ale
But tastes like bricks and bile
"Now then lads, do I get ta be a poet too?"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th July 2012
You Have No Right To LiveYou Have No Right To Live:You Have No Right To Live in Free Verse More Like This
Hey, what are you doing?
That's mine, now give it back.
You're stupid, you should just go die!
Okay, I'm sorry...
What, you failed again?
Just how much money do you think we're spending on this,
Do you think it just falls from the sky?
I can't believe you; and don't give me that look!
You better straighten up now you hear me
And if you keep looking like a dead fish,
I'm going to make you wish you were one.
Hey, being around you is driving me nuts,
You never want to do anything, you don't even care,
Why bother even breathing if you're going to act like you're dead!
A lousy person like you should just go die!
okay, fine! I will...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 26th November 2012
wet scribbles, tattooed tragedyI am shedding my skinwet scribbles, tattooed tragedy in Free Verse More Like This
like the poetry that bleeds
from your ink-cracked lips
onto the bare bones of my
Unfold these moon-shy limbs
that chase silence
& beg stay-with-me.
For you are the only verse
hidden within this labyrinth
of scar-damaged flesh.
I'm talking myself in circles,I screamed,I'm talking myself in circles, in Free Verse More Like This
"There is nothing
wrong with me, not a damn
I wanted to believe
the big dipper on my arm
meant something more
than sun marks & kisses.
But, how can I trust words
that slip through my teeth
as easy as breathing
when this star
has only ever learned
how to f
I wish...I’ve been sitting on your doorstep for three days.I wish... in Free Verse More Like This
Here are the nothings I left under the mat:
i.I do not feel like a lion anymore,
an alpha wolf, a hyena or
any other strong-willed beast.
I want to take my scars
out to lunch,
feed them your eyes,
& your tongue
until it bleeds sorrow,
and “please forgive me’s”.
iii. You wish I never existed
as you grind those words
into my wrists like they are
red hibiscus blossoms.
& I’ll have you know
I am a flower, bloomed,
rooted deep into the soil.
You are just a combination
of 26 letters-
an “I wish…”
NaPoWriMo: Day 8I was toldNaPoWriMo: Day 8 in Free Verse More Like This
to slice through the thickest
of scar tissue this evening.
Let all my inner demons
fall to the floor
& write them out
in my own black blood.
It’s not red anymore,
even though needles
& the bruises
laid out like war-lands
on my arms
I don’t think it ever was,
My mind is a mess
of free versed insecurities,
cat’s eye marbles,
& untamed forest fires-
I still don’t have the nerve
to slice open my skin
& bleed for her.
NaPoWriMo: Day 9More respectNaPoWriMo: Day 9 in Free Verse More Like This
for hungry lions,
doesn’t want to write this poem.
As she forgets how to use words
(on most days,)
relying on curses
like casting some witch's spell-
with only ten dollars to her name.
The oldest daughter:
she’s still somewhere in the middle,
because they had no other way
to categorize her.
Getting her first gravestone at three-
not to the gods,
but to the lily stargazers
in her palms.
she would become a bird,
& never come back.
She doesn’t want her death
laid out like a fast-food
how does she begin to explain
cultivating in her breastbone?
I did a thing!I told you guys I was going to do it, and I did.I did a thing! in Personal More Like This
It's my graduation/Christmas present to myself.
My emotions are all over the place; I can't stop crying.
This means so much to me.
I suppose I'll write up a better explanation and story behind this later. I just feel like I'm floating right now.
Dear Poetry isn't just my username, it means too much to me to be only that. Poetry has honestly saved my life. Sometimes people ask me where I would be if I wasn't writing, and I tell them dead. There has been so much wrong in my life, and always kept it so hidden before someone told me to write it all down.
And last night, everything just seemed to click together. It was spur of the moment, and I walked into this tattoo parlor only seeking a price quote. The owner asked me how much I had on me, and personally did my tattoo for 25 dollars. I wanted to cry right then and there because he was being so nice to me. I think he could tell how much this simple tattoo meant to me. A
NaPoWriMo: Day 2sometimes,NaPoWriMo: Day 2 in Free Verse More Like This
i have this
sudden urge to cut
most of the time,
i just wish I were anything
other than me.
a rocket ship, a bird-
the sweet flavored smoke
I promised my girlfriend
these briar patch lungs
would not in.hale.
i have fallen in love
with the strangest of things-
eyes that intimidate
the way my scars
play hide and seek
with her hands. -
the love letters
that start and end
pressed against limbs.
i make promises
i know i can not keep.
but if i were a liar
i would say i was tired
of writing to the stars.
Muse:She corrodes star shapes intoMuse: in Free Verse More Like This
the hearts of sleeping poets,
To Easily Slip AwayI'm so confused and not sure what to doTo Easily Slip Away in Free Verse More Like This
there's alot floating through my brain
I'm up late most nights pondering over it all
it is just too much for me to handle
I write down what I'm thinking
I paste all the pieces together
trying to find clues that may lead
me to the door of a clearer view
sometimes I clean my life's window
to the point where I can see everything
but soon the black cloud of depression
covers me once again blocking my vision
sometimes I scrub my window so hard
I leave scratches which are like infections
that keep coming back and can't really be healed
I see things of the past, the future, and the present
floating pass me that I'm unable to reach
and all the things I have a hold on
seem to easily slip away
He Broke Her HeartWhen he broke her heartHe Broke Her Heart in Free Verse More Like This
the sun light was put out
then the moon fell apart
and sat there before her in shattered pieces
she could feel nothing except for pain
and a twisted sharp blade forced in her chest
she thought she lived in his pocket of beauty
where nothing could dent her joy
she thought loving him was her duty
she was his girl and he was her boy
but it seemed the one she trusted most
was the most unworthy
it seemed the one she thought was so close
was really her enemy
what made him change his mind?
what made him turn away?
she thought their souls were entwined
but all he did was leave her world gray
Faded Reminiscencelearning to flyFaded Reminiscence in Free Verse More Like This
with broken wings
yet have nowhere to soar
piano notes slip and fall
from key to string
the violin cries the
false yet beautiful
sound of love
not many see or
broken and bent
one moment of faded
in a memoir scrapbook
for an empty soul
is nothing but a memory
...That Doesn't Mean...I may not see everything around me...That Doesn't Mean... in Free Verse More Like This
but I know what I'm looking for
I may not hear everything you say
but that doesn't mean I don't care
I may not know where life will lead me
but that doesn't mean I'm standing still
I may not be who you want me to be
but that doesn't mean I'm going to change
The Light Aheadwith each day that passesThe Light Ahead in Free Verse More Like This
something new must be done
yet it always seems routine
the way my life has become
even if it breaks me
I want to experience more
I can always pick up the pieces
I have so many times before
it breaks my spirit to know
there's nothing unique to try
I always try to put a spring in my step
though it'll be like this tomorrow
I'll find truth in the dreams I've kept
with shadows all around me
I keep my focuses on the light ahead
though I'll find it the same in the morning
I'll turn to see the ones that I've led
I might be fearful, I might not be safe
but why should I only pass through
when I long to put a name to this face
it kills my spirit to know that
everything new has been done
and I can't be truely satisfied
of the way my life has become
Connectedthe stem so sturdyConnected in Free Verse More Like This
yet has thorns
which reminds us that
life may not always be easy
each petal so soft and genteel
can symbolizes our love for each other
we hope and dream of the years ahead
yet we will have our problems but
our hopes, dreams and heart beats
are like each rose petal
connected and built together
we are as one you and me
HOW...?I know that love is just an emotion butHOW...? in Free Verse More Like This
it can bring more than that to the table...
its a state of mind which comes from within...
love is a complicated thing...
it's what makes us who we are and defines our personality...
it is wondrous what love can do to people...
most of us spend our whole lives trying to figure it out..
how can a four letter word hold so much?
No More Than Just A Dreamlost in a day that promised nothingNo More Than Just A Dream in Free Verse More Like This
yet took everything but a glimpse of light
left in a memory that swallowed the sadness
that envelopes this day
thrown from a dream, tossed into a nightmare
where a fire is burning which cant seem to be extinguished
want to give up but can only watch with melancholy eyes
as the walls build themselves up all around
choked from the smoke and shadows
which leaves a hollow emptiness deep inside
yet what is being formed is a heart of glass
for the memories that faded are no more than just a dream
that longed for a perception untainted by things that
were less than what they seem
Her Exposed Heartthere is a shield over her heartHer Exposed Heart in Free Verse More Like This
she now knows why its there
she didn't protect it enough
as if she didn't even care
she left her heart wide open
exposed it only to him
she didn't consider the
damage that he could do
everything she showed
was genuine and true
how can she love again
when she's not sure
he's being totally true
Silent WhispersSilence can be reflected asSilent Whispers in Free Verse More Like This
welcomed peace or wrap the heart
in freezing cold ice cubes
it can drown the soul by
echoing its lonely speech
in each second that pass;
trying to control fate
a lonely brick wall is built
to cover the many tears which
feels the chills grow wild
tomorrows grief will freeze promises
in the silence yet there is no sound
for silence is there waiting with
soft silent whispers
Mah-Jong Sometimes my father would get temporary jobs decorating old lady’s houses within the area of our small harbour side town. He would come home speckled and cheerfully display his work jeans to me; “the sign of a hard day’s work”. He felt proud of the various shades of magnolia that repurposed what once was blue. At times like this, when I got home from school the house would be empty. At first I was delighted to have space for myself, I played Spice Girls loudly on my white cassette player or watched Pokémon on T.V. Eventually the novelty wore off, and when I’d come home to find Dad gone for work I would go truffling, snout in my parents papers to find secrets.Mah-Jong in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When I was ten I discovered the Mah-jong set. It lay in a small black briefcase-like box, unremarkable but it resembled other boxes in which I’d been able to paw through my mother’s old broken necklaces and pinless broaches so naturally I opened
DanielYou are vertebraeDaniel in Free Verse More Like This
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
I love him nonethelessHe smoked in bed with his spine bent where it shouldn't, slumped across the pillows and with his eyelids half open and if it had been another life time I probably would have been in love with him.I love him nonetheless in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
As it was, I watched the cigarette as he brushed his nose with his palm, sniffed to try and retract his emotions and then shakily drew from it again.
He was utterly beautiful, even in wretchedness, and although every inhale was agony in his trachea I could see behind his dulled irises the desire to be better, and I was going to get him there.
I tucked my feet under his duvet and didn't care when our feet touched. He flinched but not at me but because his thoughts had been elsewhere. I took no offence and neither of us moved again.
He took nervous stabs at the ashtray as the loose tobacco fizzled and escaped the paper. It was an instinct. A reflex. If the bed had set alight with both of us in it the only reason either of us would have moved would have been to save the other.
The bed didn't set
MatterIt is only a matter of timeMatter in Free Verse More Like This
until the stone lays down with the sheep
Rested firmly above the holes
where our eyes used to be.
It is only a matter of matter
until epitaph and eulogy diminish to dust
becomes the eternal home,
not where our souls used to be.
It is only a matter of fact
that our words will become reductionist, redundant,
the world will forget
where our words used to be.
That Kind of ThingI took an overdose of liquid nitrogenThat Kind of Thing in Free Verse More Like This
hoping it might numb the pain -
it didn't. It simply froze my blood
so moving felt even heavier than before -
but I used to do those kinds of things.
Used to seek out sharp edges and use them
to balance the blunt, abrupt nature,
of my depressed self image.
It never worked, but sometimes it detracted.
So believe me when I say I'm sorry
and that I try to stop my veins defrosting
when I see you smile - I really try -
I don't want to feel that heart go again
I'm not used to that kind of thing
and I don't want to be reminded
of all the agony of its fractures and its ruins.
Please, forgive me, if I melt around you
even when I know full well
that you are not looking for that kind of thing.
At least, not with me.
I can't help it. You're out of my league
and I'm out of my mind -
but you're warm and even though I fear the thaw
you remind me that there were also good things
that I used to feel.
The Bone CollectorSometimes my breath catches in my throatThe Bone Collector in Free Verse More Like This
and the very stillness of an earth going
a thousand and three miles per hour
gets lodged there.
Sometimes these simple exchanges
leave me breathless, croaking on dust:
the unfiltered pigments of other people's skin
and blood and ash
but with my tarred lungs and itchy eyes
I sit and sift through charcoaled remains,
alphabetising them from c to c. I am lost
in a world charred brazen.
Many things I have loved have turned to ash.
Many people. I was naive enough to think
that there was some perfect nutritional truth
that could outlast hell-fire.
I claw through a world turned ashen
and know those dead embers collect in my cells
They are the harbingers of a truth
I do not want.
The skittish earth throws its skirts about again
to unsettle us all, and I am unsettled
Alone in the dirt, organising piles of bone-dust
he did not love, at all.
The SundancersThe sundancers crease the sky ephemerallyThe Sundancers in Free Verse More Like This
and stain the floor with their bravery, eternally.
HAIKUWRIMO 2015FEB 8 2015HAIKUWRIMO 2015 in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Snow spiked on grass blades
speared through their frozen heartstrings
the dead snow withers.
FEB 7 2015
We piled like puppies
issues on top of tissues
adorning the bed.
FEB 6 2015
Please. Breathe. Don’t give up.
I’ll exchange all my inhales
for your exhales. Please.
FEB 5 2015
If I close my eyes
maybe the pain will go out;
an extinguished flame.
FEB 4 2015
Don't be afraid love;
we're getting out together.
I give you my hand.
FEB 3 2015
Six shots to the head
tinnitus relieves pressure
of the screams inside.
FEB 2 2015
Wake up drenched in
about who I am.
FEB 1 2015
A roll of the dice;
our survival depends on
a sleight of the hand.
The OysterIndistinctive slateThe Oyster in Free Verse More Like This
shumbled amid the sand,
jolting in the currents.
Clamped around yourself
like murderous hands
tightening steel around throats
gravely spitting gravel
and ruminating, rotating.
Silt settles on your fore-brow.
There are plenty of fish in the sea;
they kiss the shell curiously
and dart away, afraid.
You remain with jaw clenched,
with spine curved hard,
with shoal grey defences up,
shaking under the temper
of an unjust ocean,
trying to keep your broken fingers
clenched fierce around the cracks.
You keep it safe,
beneath rubble and bone,
and you are so afraid of breaking it
that you convince even yourself
that it's not there -
but while you screw your eyes down,
shutters against the cruel pervading green,
all but you know
that the oyster has a pearl.
Happy HourLong-regretted and undigestable wordsHappy Hour in Free Verse More Like This
pressed between lips and sticky glass;
this is how we pass the moments
when the treachery of our own breath
leaves us desperate for release from
between vodka on the rocks
and the hard place in the back of the skull
that holds the swollen root of self doubt.
We pickled it, we prized it out
with pawing uncertain hands groping,
blindly, into each others psychosis -
your hands on my hesitant hips
and my tears on your handkerchief.
I tried to save you, and you me
but no blade worked to ply out the pain
in its pit-stone seating above our spines.
It sat heavy on our minds and sweated,
sweated its mildewous poison into us
and into our tempestuous relationship
until eventually your hands trailed up
to that place where vultures perch their hopes
on prominent collarbones -
your hands round my neck you clawed
and tried to squeeze the poison out of me.
your mouth nor your thumbnail at my throat
with a salt rim like a Margarita glass
resurgencelet's make small talk,resurgence in Free Verse More Like This
six month silence swelling;
sticking inside our throats,
filling the space between us.
let's make small talk
and skirt furtive eyes around
the absence we never quite
accustomed ourselves to.
this is easy,
but then it's always been
we move lightly,
an oh-so similar
let's make small talk,
stumble on faux pas promises
and the intimacy between two
who are no longer intimate.
orbiting the past,
we dance in words.
momentsi.moments in Free Verse More Like This
the night's edge
is vast and limitless
until you risk slipping,
then it shrinks to
the size of your sorrow
and chaos is a comfort
dressed in anarchy;
all flight and freedom
and everest legs
that promise forever
if only you'll worship
at the eye
i want today.
i want a smile painted
in slick conviction,
a love wrought helpless
in the grip slip falling
of the rain.
the cultivation of neophiliai.the cultivation of neophilia in Free Verse More Like This
give in to it:
the insatiable restlessness
that haunts, heavy
in a familiar corner
of your eyeline.
drive toward the night.
halt only when you
can no longer
trace paths of neon
from streetlight to fingertip;
never quite reach the
eventually, stop trying.
look over the paper city
resting fragile below;
tear it to shreds
with vicious intent
forget that you have
loved and hoped and
for a moment
there is only you,
the night, and the need
desire like you've
never wanted anything,
search for the novel,
for the fantastical
and the faintest hint
of something new
in the sky-glow.
stand so high atop
wonder how they do not
under the weight
of all this empty
almost divinewe are cities of poetryalmost divine in Free Verse More Like This
standing in stanzas
that scrape the sky
and shape the cages
we cling to.
the particular apathy
of sidewalk strangers;
in neon drinks and
we are memories
twisting out of vision;
nearly-gods in a
world turned electric
the new day
with yesterday still
we are ghost lights
with nimble uncertainty
through the night-
and fly unseen
in buildings long ago
we could have been
so much more
than what we
collisionsi.collisions in Free Verse More Like This
it is dark, unfamiliar,
but your fingers seek out his,
and you know then
that you are at home
in his harmony
even if just
he's incendiary, sure.
a veritable (volatile)
molotov cocktail of
watch as he emerges,
ashen-limbed from a cocoon of you
to entwine with the threads
that hold you sane.
want nothing more than
to hiss and steam;
than to cool
in your stillness
redolent of broken-record risk-
taking chances until
there's nothing left
but scratches and
glitches in the wordwork
i mean woodwork,
i mean, skin.
but oh god, he loves you
just like this,
this is a choice:
you may destroy him,
extinguish his flames
and half-bury him in
the ashy remnants
of his own conflagration
but it's an impotent power
that is granted,
we used to fly togetheri've got a good memory,we used to fly together in Free Verse More Like This
but i was surprised to find the box;
full of our scribbled conversations
and protestations (no, that's not right)
declarations, no, dreams
of what the future might look like.
we were young, vibrant, and
beautiful (and inseparable, once)
and we thought we knew how to
take hold of the future.
for my part, i struggled with
age as if i had a chance of winning;
our battles were the talk of the town.
you, you took to the passing of time
with an eagerness that showed
just how ready you were
to put away
the notions of childhood.
i've got a good memory,
but it's easy to be selective,
pick and choose the moments
that i want to relive.
we were foolish, confident
(and oh, so alive)
and we fell into our roles
with a predictability
that is near miraculous
i doomed myself to the role of
the forever-child, always looking back,
always dreaming of the carefree days.
you quickly ran out of adventures,
and set about finding new myst
desideratumtodaydesideratum in Free Verse More Like This
the translations of you
are lost in the absence
hid behind a barrier
that could shatter in
you are declarations
and grasping, senseless,
at the blank
i am half fear
and all uncertainty;
i would give everything
you tricked me
into loving a vision.
you are a glamour,
in wreckage and nude hands
in your wake.
(un)restrainedYou weep like a bird caught in a cage(un)restrained in Free Verse More Like This
but your wings are not bound
and no bars corral you, it is time
you leapt free-- grasp to life
like a starving creature clutches
the first buds of springtime.
The world is all a-blossom;
it is calling out for you to fly
and you must, you must unfold
in a burst of glorious plumage
there are no more moments left
for wreathing yourself in loneliness,
like dawn mist envelops and smothers
the early stillness of morning.
Your chrysalis is complete,
peacock child, and your heart
beats with the wind. Listen,
listen: spread wide your arms
and embrace the cosmos inside you;
you were never a lonesome eagle,
but a phoenix awaiting
progressfury bleeds in inchesprogress in Free Verse More Like This
of one step forwards
back where you came from;
the place you swore was
down in oceanic
couldn't pay you to realise
that nightmares are leaking
through eyelid lights
hid deep behind midnights;
and you're screaming,
but the night chokes
breath and you
don't you realise
there's more to this
cheap dye jobs
that colour and conceal
in a coward-hued
haze of fear;
and you are silenced.
sidewalk reflectionsfirst was a surgesidewalk reflections in Free Verse More Like This
paved in footpath promises
and danced to a careful
accompaniment of guilt-
gilded stolen pleasures
thin-lipped and thimble-headed,
he was always armoured;
his hay-rolls so common
that he'd developed defences
just in case he ever
came across a needle.
second was a flavour
of coca-cola and of bitterness
like tea seeped just a moment
too long and sipped with
a shuddered thunder
like shots in the dark
hard-chested and soft-willed,
his lot was stitched of
a great discontentment;
always searching for the
moments he was sure had
be snatched away.
third was a sore
clutched so tight it bruised
and left dark words etched
in semi-permanent glory
along letterboxed ruins
country-lost and urban-found,
he read like rest stops
on an abandoned highway,
and he shone like empty stores
where the neon still flickered
in the rain; closed for business,
fourth is a farewell
and lies without consummation,
seaglass once piercing
but now tsunami-softened
and begging to be pick
knees and toeshere is a short list of things i know:knees and toes in Free Verse More Like This
Cody says he hates David, but he really doesn’t,
i will never wear a coat until the first of November,
i hate myself in the spring,
the sun is 92, 960, 000 miles from earth and i’m pretty sure
that number is rounded to look pretty
or god must be ocd.
it’s a miracle, i’m learning to look you in the eye.
make a wish, make a wish, any wish
i’m plucking out my eyelashes, i’m learning
to give up beauty for a shot at happiness.
i say too much too quickly without getting out
all of the consonants and my speech is craggy
and rocky like an abandoned trail in the Appalachians,
overgrown and the road not taken.
my fingernails are ragged and bitten to the shortest
stub i could stand. i don’t want to hurt you,
i don’t want to hurt myself, my fingernails cannot
hurt you but i can still hurt myself. one day i’ll
be brave enough to leave scratch marks on your skin
in angry red lines, one day i’ll be some
muteit’s two in the morning somewheremute in Free Verse More Like This
where it’s quiet except for breathing
that’s loud enough to hear from here.
convince yourself you’re alive;
you’re the only one that can.
here is a game we played as children:
we pretended language was something only
to be seen on paper,
we make-believed the worst injury
we could get was those made by
trees and rocks while our bones weakened
under the attacks we tried to endure
of words like, “fat” (before
we even knew how much we weighed)
or “stupid” (before
we even realized that it
doesn’t matter what 9 times 8 is
as long as no one figures out you don’t know.)
sticks and stones may break our bones
don’t tell me words don’t do any damage.
don’t tell me you don’t think of yourself as a weapon
every time you open your mouth,
don’t tell me what exactly you think of me,
don’t tell me anything, i think you’ve said enough.
let’s just be silent,
count to infinity before you sleep.cause i knowcount to infinity before you sleep. in Free Verse More Like This
there are days when
it's painful to even breathe,
your throat closing up on the knowledge
that you don't know
how much longer you'll be waiting on this
band-aided, superglued planet.
every cell in your body vying to be the next to die,
and all you have to tell them is
maybe. maybe next time.
those are the days you spend
cutting rose thorns into your palms
and clenching your fists tight around
jagged reflections and prismed rainbows.
the days you realize
we're losing so much faster than we're learning.
we're maturing faster than we're growing.
adults stuck in the bodies of kids,
moving around, making the mistakes
no one ever wants to look back on.
those are the days you realize
it's not worth living here anymore.
you're using too many burnt-like sugar words
to get what you want, a mistaken human in wolf's clothing.
your lies are becoming louder than your screams,
but if the knife fits wear it on your skin.
this is the age where you feel caught between
sometimes i feel like a superherothe house across from my bus stopsometimes i feel like a superhero in Free Verse More Like This
is a temporary funeral home, but back when the Yankees controlled the town,
it was owned by a family whose daughter rode bareback
twenty-seven miles in the middle of the night to warn her
rebel leader of a lover that the Yankees were coming for him,
the Yankees were coming, the Yankees were coming,
the Yankees are coming, John, get out, quick!
and maybe she tripped and fell,
or her red cape got tangled up in her stirrups and ideals,
because by the time she rode into the neighborhood,
the houses were already on fire, children were already
crying for their mothers, and her John
was already hung up on the gate as an example
to the other rebel.
the next morning, the Yankees strung her
dead body up next to his.
no one ever told them life wasn't fair.
maybe that's why when i first tasted lemonade
i spat it out onto the ground,
and didn't drink it again until i was twelve years old,
and feeling biter and sour and in need of a little sugar.
when i was little,
sempiternali saw you today, for the first time in months.sempiternal in Free Verse More Like This
i admit, it took me a few seconds to remember
all the words to the song you played on repeat in
your car, the one you couldn’t sing with open eyes.
the music used to come so easily to me,
but when i saw you today, i could only remember
the chorus, and it stuttered its way through my head
over and over again. for the life of me, i don’t know
what comes next.
i have spent years picking up the pieces of you
that you left behind, years spent memorizing
the echo of your heartbeat and the rhythm of
your breaths. your favorite color is purple.
you like sunflowers, autumn, and the creek
that flows behind your house. you like movies
and popcorn, you like ferris wheels and candy apples.
you love your mother and miss your father. you’re
afraid of alcohol and terrified of yourself. there
was a point in my life when i thought maybe i’d
be able to grow old next to you.
i know it’s stupid, but i’m afraid of not knowing
things to take to college1. between the two of us, we have eaten milesthings to take to college in Free Verse More Like This
of pavement, we have spent months pressing
the same four wheels into the ground.
whenever you need to, follow those tracks again.
they will lead you back home.
2. there are songs i only figured out how to sing
with you beside me. even now, the words
sound awkward in my throat.
the notes are wrong. i’m not sure what makes
something sacred, but words like that
i only know how to sing with a quiet
reverence i can’t seem to find anymore.
3. i am good at writing poems that convince
people to stay. i don’t know how to write
a poem to someone that i know is going to leave
no matter what i say.
4. you have faith in spades. and i’m not talking about
god. i’m talking about that tangible faith in
humanity, the faith that always makes you
ask me how my day was, even if the answer
is always the same.
5. to be truthful, i don’t want you to stay.
some people are made for the great unknown.
6. we have watched more sunset
stop me if you've heard this one beforei.stop me if you've heard this one before in Free Verse More Like This
there is a man on the corner of my street
who gave me a bottle of bleach
and told me if i drank it, i'd finally feel clean.
but i gave it back to him, and went home to take a shower.
because i am almost happy,
and i do not want to mess that up by
chugging bleach or fingering knives or thinking too much
about that man who turned my insides cold
from inside of his car.
because this has to be happy.
this has to be what happy feels like.
it feels like god gave me a vodka bottle
filled with nature and people and oceans and deserts and seas,
cause see, it feels like i'm drunk on life.
i have this nervous habit of scratching holes in my skin
and my mother says it's because
i'm trying to find something beautiful inside me.
she said i need a psychiatrist.
my friend asked me if i needed itching crème.
i keep laughing about stuff that's probably not funny.
i don't want it to rain anymore.
used to, i liked the rain,
because if i squinted, all the lines would be blurred.
Michaelasometimes, you meet people who are stormsMichaela in Free Verse More Like This
in bottles, who are ships cast away on rocky
coastlines, contained in a mason jar. sometimes
you meet volcanoes in human skin, earthquakes
with a laugh that sounds like skipping rocks
on summer colored lakes. sometimes, you meet
people who are whirlwinds wrapped up in muscle and bone,
who are more miracle than mistake.
i think about that a lot when i look at her.
to be fair, she is nothing more than me and you
but she has a hurricane brewing in her eyes
and dandelions growing through the cracks
in her sidewalks and i think that’s wondrous
i know our lungs are the same—on mondays
and thursdays, we both find it hard to keep
breathing and sometimes if i listen hard enough
i think i can hear the storms battering her shoreline,
but you could never tell with the way she smiles.
don’t tell her, but she smiles like the sun.
she smiles crooked, like baby teeth and morals
and the first time you try to hang up a sign.
god, she sm
it's not me, it's youto the most recent douche to break my heart,it's not me, it's you in Free Verse More Like This
i know it’s not your fault. i’ve been told enough times
that the blame lies primarily in the differences between
the two of us. i am not what i seem—you had no idea
what you were signing up for. when i write poems
about lying in bed all day, i am not doing anything
you would classify as fun. i am counting dust molecules
in the air. i am counting out the number of times in a minute
that i think my heartbeat will stutter in its strut. i am counting
backwards from one hundred, breathing out on the evens and in on
the odds. i am counting down the days until you leave me.
don’t waste your breath with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech.
i know the truth. i know you kissed me for the first
time because you thought you could be my dream catcher,
because you thought perhaps your arms would be enough
of a defense to ward away my nightmares. instead
you end up playing doctor in a psych ward, searching me
suicidal.it’s like she’s toeing the edge of a cliff andsuicidal. in Free Verse More Like This
she’s smiling and she’s deadly
and you’re standing too far back to save her
and it’s just too late because she’s about
if you want a list of reasons not to commit suicide,
here it is.
1. you have two dogs that will miss you.
they were wagging their tails and smiling
last night when they took you to the hospital
and i couldn’t find the words to tell them
that they should be quiet.
2. you have a car that you cried when you got
and you roll the windows down and blast music
whenever you pick me up from school
and i’m sorry i never sang along, but this is just to say
that you have things that still make you feel alive.
3. you have a sister that is nice about fifteen percent of the time
and loves you the rest of it. trust me, she does.
she does not remember the last time she hugged you
but she wrote about you when her teacher asked her
who her hero was.
4. mom should
Stick to GodSticks and stones may break my bones,Stick to God in Short Stories More Like This
But words will never hurt me.
What a lie.
Words are the greatest weapon,
Shattering the heart.
Becuase she smiles and laughs,
She is happy.
Maybe you're wrong.
The smiles may be a mask,
Hiding her deepest pain.
He has everything you could want,
His life is perfect.
There is more.
If he does not have God,
He doesn't not have what is most important.
Though the words shatter hearts,
God fixes them.
Though she is in pain,
God heals her.
Though he has much,
God will give him what is most important.
God is our all in all.
He protects us.
All of us
Whether you believe or not.
I'm the girlI'm the girl who has been harassed her whole life,I'm the girl in Short Stories More Like This
Because she listened to the teachers and did as she was told.
I'm the girl who has been physically abused for lots of her life,
Because she wanted to be herself.
I'm the girl who doesn't understand why you would ever want to help her,
Because she is worth nothing to the world.
I'm the girl who feels alone in the world,
Because no one ever wanted to be with her.
I'm the girl who used to sit alone at school,
Because no one ever wanted to sit with her.
I'm the girl who a few people desided to sit with and befriend,
Because they had nothing better to do at the time so they betrayed her about a year later.
I'm the girl who gets used by everyone when she does have something,
Because that's the way this world thinks.
I'm the girl who is tossed to the wind,
Because she no longer has anything anyone would want.
I'm the girl who is losing her ability to trust,
Because of the yo-yo effect of friendship and betrayal through her entire life.
SuicideThe peace death brings,Suicide in Free Verse More Like This
It tempts me greatly.
I say I will never end it,
But when you feel like living death,
What is the point?
When life brings you so much pain,
And death promises peace,
Why fight it?
I already feel like I am slowly dying,
Why not speed up the process and put my suffering to an end?
SilenceI feel so alone.Silence in Emotional More Like This
"Is anyone there?"
Silence answers me.
You are alone because no one cares.
They never will.
Shut up, shut up, shut up...
The only thing you're good at is being used by everyone.
Give them all what they want.
But you don't deserve to get anything you want.
Don't ask why.
Go away, go away, go away...
No cares about you.
No one loves you.
Go ahead and cut yourself you coward.
It's the only thing you have.
Leave me alone, leave me alone, LEAVE ME ALONE!
Broken DreamsWords emerge and crashBroken Dreams in Free Verse More Like This
shattered onto jagged shores,
while broken breaths heave
from stormy seas,
and tears leap
of rushing rapids.
And cracked lips plead
do not leave me here,
while none so dry eyes
beg even harder with need,
as one hand grabs
for what it knows the ends.
And the bells of broken dreams
rain from skys of ruin,
falling hopeless on a chest
haunted by a black heart,
and these lost thoughts
cry on deaf ears of one indifferent.
As everything mixes in sorrow and
ruins the sun in it's blue heaven,
Worlds lost lose again
while those creul save,
and you watch light come
from above the waters you down in.
Love Story The wind whips around my body, tearing at my clothes, trying to hurdle me over and hold me back at the same time, wiping my tears from my face, carrying them away. I'm soaked, my clothes and my hair drenched in rain, making me feel heavier then I already do, tempting me to let gravity take me down to the hard ground below. It's like the classic story, standing at the edge of the roof, staring at the cement and the people going about their buisness so far beneath, not caring to look up and see me standing on the edge. Just like every story, the clouds are dark and low, the rain is falling from the sky, the wind blows up here so high, and I feel like no one cares.Love Story in Short Stories More Like This
All I ever feel is pain, I spend every day alone, just going through the motions, I don't even know what I'm living for anymore. So I stand here. Everything in me wanting to end it, the pain and loneliness. Well, almost everything, a small part of me is
Live to Die Another DayWhen all you want to do is die,Live to Die Another Day in Free Verse More Like This
Just hold your head up high.
Tell the bullies, "I am fine,"
"This life is not yours, it's mine."
Don't let them win,
Not always by blood but you have got kin.
The world is blind and they have hurt you,
I know how that feels too.
But you can get passed this if you try,
And you do not wave this life goodbye.
They have hurt you so many times,
And that is one of the worst crimes.
So throw them in a jail,
Where they will get no bail.
That is your heart it is strong lock them out,
And walk away while in disapointment they pout.
Because you are neaver alone,
Happiness will be your new tone.
Please you have to trust,
Because heal you must.
So please do not run,
Please rather put down the gun.
I know it is very very hard,
I too have been scarred.
But I have begun to heal,
As you will to if you let yourself continue to feel.
Life is hard at times and you want to end it,
But do not go out in a fit.
Rather hold your head up high and say,
"I lived through another day
I Still Believe In LoveI believe in love,I Still Believe In Love in Free Verse More Like This
the kind that
brings you to your knees when it leaves.
that hoveres on your lips
and waits for the perfect chance
to leap forth
and land on anothers' heart.
that brings two together
in marriage forever.
that drives you
to do anything with your heart
to hold your partners' love in your palms,
sheltering it with a kiss.
The right love
that never leaves once found,
yes I still believe in love.
StopStop it please,Stop in Free Verse More Like This
Stop yelling at me,
I can't take it,
Please oh please stop,
Stop yelling at me!
Torn in TwoMy scars do not define me.Torn in Two in Free Verse More Like This
They are all I am.
The madness is waiting to take me.
It already ate me.
I do not know who I am.
I am a monster waiting to strike.
You all need to leave me before I hurt you.
Please do not leave me alone.
I was alone before I was born.
I do not think I was born alive rather dead.
This mind is waiting to die.
This heart is pleading for life.
Someone please save me.
Leave me to die on my own so you don't have to see.
Someday I hope I can take my mask off.
I know not to hide is to wish for punishment.
I do not deserve anything but pain.
What did I ever do to deserve this.
My agonized cries go out to be heard.
I can never ask for a voice.
I do not know what to do.
I know there is only one thing to do.
In Our Autumn Years Part 4In Our Autumn Years Part 4 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"What ya got there, Beanpole?" Lorax asked, looking up from lounging on Once-ler's bed as he came walking into his cottage one late evening.
"Look how many times do I gotta tell you, keep off my bed?" he scowled, reaching and picking the orange one up under the arms and set him on the floor.
"Aww but your bed's so cozy and warm!" whined the guardian, playfully, before pointing again to the thing that Once-ler had under his arm. "Again, what's that?"
"This, is called a book." Once-ler held it out to the other, and flipped the pages open and watched as the Lorax stared at it with disinterest.
"Mrf. How many trees died for this thing?" he asked, seemingly capable of being able to tell anything that was made of trees with one whiff of his nose.
"It's not about that, you furry meatloaf." Once-ler said as he sat down on the floor, and flipped through the book. "This book mentions you."
"Oh ho?" the Lorax's eyes widened as he hurried around, climbed up Once-ler's back, and balanced himself on
In Our Autumn Years Part 10In Our Autumn Years Part 10 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
He had decided to walk back into town. Even if Ted insisted that he could ride his bike with Norma, the old man had refused. If he was about to meet his brothers again the last thing he wanted was to show up on that, since he may end up tripping over himself. He hadn't heard their conjoined laughter in over 42 years now, and he certainly didn't want to hear it now at his expense.
How old would they be now? Seventy three, at least yes seventy three. He would never have thought they would get this old, all of them, much less himself. He had once been so full of life, so full of spunk. Now he was slower on his feet than he'd care to admit, and the pains and aches in his joints made him sometimes so mad he'd just glare at the world and pout like a child.
Driving alongside him was Ted, Norma riding on the back.
"How'd they show up?" Once-ler asked as he walked, arms bent and swinging with purpose.
"I don't know," Ted explained. "I just got home and Ma had these two guys there. S
In Our Autumn Years Part 2In Our Autumn Years Part 2 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Theodore Wiggins will you answer your mother when she calls you??" Mrs. Wiggins voice snapped from the kitchen, arched its way up through the house and bounced its way into Ted's bedroom.
"Ma, you just told me to do my homework!" he called back, turning away from his desk where some of his school books lay spread across like a carpet of text and pictures.
"I'm also calling you down here, so get your keister down here stat!" she shouted.
Groaning for all his suffering, Ted dragged himself away from his homework and made his way downstairs.
"You seen your Grammy anywhere?" Mrs. Wiggins asked as she stuck her head out from the kitchen. "I been lookin' for her and she's no where."
"Uh. I thought I heard her say something about heading into town?" Ted asked.
"What? So close to that Once-ler guy comin' over? I swear, I don't know where she keeps her marbles sometimes the way she carries on." Mrs. Wiggins rambled as she went back into the kitchen, "Anyway, Tedster, c'mo
The Tale of the Lorax - IntroThe Tale of the Lorax - Intro in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Theodore Wiggins was born and raised in Thneedville which, in itself, wasn't exactly a bad thing. The town was well looked after, it had the best hospitals, the best schools, recreational activities, but the only problem was that the town was very, very bad. For one there was no mayor, no electoral committee, nothing to represent the people's views and opinions on matters. Those rights had long since been given up when O'Hare, a man of short stature, had rose to power in the ranks of the city.
You see, Thneedville was in a bad state.
Beyond the safety of the all powerful wall was a wasteland, where miles, and miles, and miles of what had once been pristine grassland had been slowly transformed into an inhospitable land. There were remains of tree stumps scattered absolutely everywhere. Old, rusting machines that looked more like rotting carcases scattered the land. The ground was rock hard, and incapable of sustaining life. There were no trees, no bushes, no animals. The only things th
In Our Autumn Years Part 6In Our Autumn Years Part 6 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Norma could remember the first time she met Once-ler's family, on that balmy summer day all those years ago. It had been just like any other morning for her, she had awoken, gone through the usual morning routine of showering, getting dressed, and enjoying her breakfast. It was all so very ordinary, and mundane she could have cried. But, like every other day, what she looked forward to most after working in the local book store was heading out to the valley to visit Once-ler.
By that time of day she would normally find him doing his washing out by the stream, or pegging his laundry on the single line he stretched from his cottage to the nearest tree. On more than one occasion she had come in to find him chasing the bar-ba-loots who had stolen various items of clothing, in particular his underwear. It seemed as though one of them, named Pipsqueak, had taken a fondness to the heart covered underwear.
Why, though, she couldn't rightly understand but a bar-ba-loot's mind was a very tricky
In Our Autumn Years Part 12 - FinalIn Our Autumn Years Part 12 - Final in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Unsurprisingly, this time around, Once-ler and Norma did not mess around when it came to their engagement. The last time they'd been engaged it had lasted years, thanks to Once-ler becoming wrapped up in his company. This time around though, there was no company for him to be pulled away by. It was funny that, in their youth, a wedding would have been an enormously huge affair. Now, though, both nearly eighty years old the two of them, they decided it to be an incredibly small affair.
There was a small guest list; ridiculously small. Of course there was Once-ler and Norma along with Helen and Ted. On top of that came Audrey and her parents, Brett and Chet (allowed to even stay the night at Helen's since she didn't want them in a car for hours on end), and of course Norma and Helen's friends. Since it was such a small gathering, Helen ended up making the wedding cake herself though she did call in some help for catering the rest of the meals.
"Stop fussin' Ma." Helen said as she fixed u
In Our Autumn Years Part 9In Our Autumn Years Part 9 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Norma would never admit it to anyone that it took her almost two months to realize that she was pregnant. After Once-ler left her, the young woman had entered into a moment in her life that she would never talk about with anyone, for the rest of her days. Depression. She would spend days walking around her house, focusing on the furniture that Once-ler would have, once, curled up on after coming home late at night. To be honest, the man had rarely slept in the spare bed she had set up for him in her guest room, and on multiple occasions she would find him on the couch or on the floor itself in the mornings.
She never thought she would miss him this much. When she had left him, after their surprisingly quiet through stressful, talk back when he was still the head of his company, she hadn't missed him this badly. Maybe because she had gone cold turkey? Was it because leading up to that point she hadn't seen him for days, and he was always so busy, and treating her as if she was a
In Our Autumn Years Part 11In Our Autumn Years Part 11 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Helen sat there in the lounge room of the man who was her father, at least genetically. For his sake, but also her own, she had finally decided to attempt to get to know him. Alone. Without her mother, or her son, around. This was a little unnerving, sitting in the slanted oddly built house knowing that her father had holed himself away in here all her life. She looked around the room, at the recently wall-papered walls that now had a soft green and white design on them. The carpets were warm and rich underfoot, hiding the concrete and rock he had built his house on.
"Well you really have a nice place here." she tried to compliment as he returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray. Helen got to her feet and moved to help him but the tall elderly man backed up. "What?" she asked.
"You're a guest. Guests sit their tuckushes down and wait to be served." he said, shutting his eyes as he did.
"Well yeah but you ain't no spring chicken." Helen said, setting a hand on her hip. "I can't h
In Our Autumn Years Part 5In Our Autumn Years Part 5 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Oh wow it's really comin' down out there isn't it?" Mrs. Wiggins asked as she stared outside her window as the rain continued to pour outside, splashing against the window. She had stared at wonder at the rain when it had first started, since she couldn't rightfully remember rain that well.
She had vague memories, as a baby, of her mother holding her in the window as rain came falling down but it was around that time the rain began to stop falling. It had a beautiful quality to it, a magical feeling, one that gave Helen a sense of nostalgia she couldn't rightly place.
The woman smiled faintly, in the privacy of her home, and moved away from the window. Just as she did this, though, she missed watching her mother and the old Once-ler walking up the street together. Norma still held the bag of goods in one arm, the other hand gently holding onto the green clad glove of the elderly man who, in his other hand, held the Swomee-Swan umbrella still.
They came to a stop at the end of the path
The Tale of the Lorax - Part 3The Tale of the Lorax - Part 3 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter Three: Norma and Once-ler
The panic in the air was still thick as Grammy Norma's hand held tightly onto Ted's as they ran through the streets. It wasn't until they were almost home did the young boy realize he had forgotten his bike in all the commotion but one could barely blame him. When there was gun fire in the air, your grandmother pulling you along in a run he never thought she'd be capable of, and having a vigilante at your back shooting back at guards you tended to forget important things like that. He felt his stomach empty out and he felt sick; what if they found the bike? What if they traced it to him being out after curfew? His grip on his her hand tightened greatly and she squeezed back just as tightly.
"How?" Ted asked shakily as they snuck back into the house carefully, quietly, so not to wake his mother even if she was a deep sleeper. "H-how do you know that Grammy, it's "
"Shhh." she hushed him softly, pressing a finger to his lips. "Questions