HowThis Sunday's sundae had no toppings
I ate in bitter anguish because of the vanilla blandness
A river of red sauce and broken little red beads poured onto the once purity of white
How in the world could she have known?
A PlanHow it started I'm not completely sure, but I do know, by the end of it, I was weaved in so many webs I didn't know what to do with myself. That is the only reason I remember it, because it changed my life.
It had been one of those days, hot and muggy, and humanity had reinvented itself, creating a facade to hide the hideousness of its nature. They were being nice, hatred and betrayal ceased, if only for a while, or until I was out of the picture.
Being accepted into the group was inevitable, I was the perfect target. Grateful, happy, and obedient, I was the perfect candidate. I welcomed their invitation with open arms and a smile so big that I imagine it churned their stomachs.
After they publicly announced that I was the new add-in, the group had planned to leave me waiting for them in front of the school. They would smile and wink, driving off, their squeals penetrating the air.
I found a ride with the usual people, so I suppose that when they drove by, they had no one to humiliate.
A Blank FaceShe sat on the porch,
Rocking in the chair meant to be normal,
Yet it rocked back and forth,
Like the rocking chair it wanted to be.
She breathed a long deep sigh.
Rocking back and forth,
Chewing on the black pen, already worn down.
It was her favorite.
The notebook on her lap,
Could only hold the darkest of her secrets,
Was a hardcover, beaten, composition book, black and white.
Its purpose was to keep her quiet.
If she didn't have this
Then she would lash out on anyone and everyone even if they didn't deserve it.
She knew how that felt.
She knew how much it hurt to be in the middle of something
That had nothing to do with you.
She stared off into the setting sun,
Looking for something,
Perhaps ideas or sparks of memories to trigger a rampage of scribbles.
Minutes became hours,
The light had turned to darkness.
Her smile faded. He hadn't come.
She trudged in to the house. To her room.
Where she shelved her notebook and took out another.
Sitting on her bed, she opened it.
Her eyes scan
My MuseAs chills run up and down my spine, I remember my wish to feel something. It's the first thing on the list of things that I regret severely. Someone should have told me that there was a catch, but I suppose I should have known. When your wishes come true, there are consequences. Newton's third law of motion goes for everything. Feeling nothing and wanting to, I wished for something, to feel something, but I wasn't specific. Instead of asking to feel something, I should have asked to feel happiness or inspiration, but I didn't. So for that sin, I fell...hard. It came so suddenly. This feeling, I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready for him. But yet he came, and I saw in him everything that I needed. I assured you that I am not one of those girls who will throw everything away at a whim of feeling. I am a researcher, a writer. He became a character. I was fascinated by him. I could fill notebooks just thinking of him. My novel had yet another character and it was better than ever. I spent
IgnoranceThe words spewed from his mouth and washed over me like a poison.
A science experiment gone wrong.
The only thing more traumatizing than knowing what he knew,
Was knowing I could do nothing to stop it.
I suppose if I had known I could've tried,
But if the world was filled with should've's, could've's, and would've's,
Then no one would get anything done.
No one could ever face the future.
I sat curled up in the itchy sofa chair.
I got the goosebumps, not because of the cold but because of the lies.
Here he was telling the truth
And all I could think about were her lies and comparing them to his.
Decide if he was telling the truth.
It was impossible to tell.
I'm not a people reader.
I barely know how I feel half the time.
There was a slight possibility that maybe the girl
That I had considered my best friend had lied to me.
This doubt scared me.
This doubt played a part in my imagination.
This imagination that had kept me safe at night,
Now haunted me with images of their
Lie DetectorYou can lie to a lot of people but you cant lie to me. No one has managed it yet. I suppose I was born with this gift. But it burdens me so. Honesty is not always the best policy, believe me. Everything has a gray area. Even lies.
I was standing outside the church, leaning against the back wall. I was smoking a Virginia unfiltered. It was a bad habit, but I couldnt quite kick it. Blowing out the pollution, I heard crying. I looked around the corner with the cigarette stuck between my lips and my left foot supporting me on the wall.
I hadnt seen her around, and I knew everyone. Her dark brown hair was in her face, and the dress she was wearing wasnt really for the occasion. I pushed myself off the wall and walked up to her. Want one? She looked up briefly and said, no. I quit a while back.
She still stared down at her shoes. I turned around, ready to go back to my wall to slowly kill myself in peace, but she stopped me. Are you going to ask me w
A DreamI see a crowded room,
Filled not with people,
But with noise.
Their voices reach out to me,
But there is everything stopping me
From grabbing hold.
I see light, a spotlight.
A being walks underneath it,
But I still can't see it's face.
It's head is hung low
The sound of tears
Dropping on the laminate
Echoes through the room.
I feel a dozen eyes,
Burning in the back of my skull.
Just the feeling that I'm being watched,
Every move judged.
My steps are light,
But my heart is heavy.
It thumps short, fast, and loud.
I can hear it in my ears.
I walk and I walk and I walk,
But I don't get any closer.
Or the light and the being under it
Keeps slipping away.