Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Poems

A Beautiful Soul

A Great Woman

The Bittersweet Ways of Life
Butterflies are for Forgiveness
Dear mom
Emo Love Sonnets LXIX
Graveyard Follies
Her Inner Tears
Hunger
I am a Force of Nature's Creation
I am a Healer and a Lover
If I were a Guy
If I were a Man
I love…
I’m Alive Again
I Really Just Want You In My Grasp
It’s Cold Tonight. Will you come closer?
I Would Die For You, My Life
Kidnapping the Black
My Lover
Nature’s Safe Homecomings
One Day…
Promises Are Meant to Be Broken
Roses are Red, Violets are Blue
The Sleeping Princess
So Far Away
Then and Now
Where were you daddy?
Your Inner Tears
No Name 1
No Name 2

Short Stories

A Beloved Girlfriend
The Black Swan or the Mare
Dana and Esai
I Love You, Always and Forever
Journal Entries
Just Another Day In Paradise
The Purple Butterfly
School Day Miracles
Utopia

Poetry Section

 Poetry Section

 

A Beautiful Soul

A Beautiful Soul

5/14/12

She’s kind and gentle
And full of love.
She’s soft and cuddly
And is loyal beyond loyal.
Her beautiful green eyes
Are so full of understanding
And knowledge.
Her long, soft grey hair
Brings comfort even on
The darkest of days.
Her cute little meows
And soft and gentle purrs,
Fill your heart with love.
She brings happiness
As soon as she walks in the room.
She makes you laugh
When she throws the string around.
Her 14-year-old face
Is full of wisdom and peace.
Her little feet make no noise
When walking across the floor.
She’s so cautious and skittish,
But it’s cute and entertaining.
Her name is Gadget Stiles,
She is my cat, my baby girl, my best friend,
And she died on May 13th, 2012.

A Great Woman

A Great Woman

2/21/14

 

A Tribute to my Oma, Carol Jean Eknes.

 

Oma. My dear Oma.

I just got the devastating news.

I’m so sorry, sweet Oma, that I

Didn’t get the chance to spend more time with you.

I’m sorry that I didn’t get to

See you more often, tell you how much you mean to me.

Truth be told, I love you Oma.

 I always have. I may have been shy at our first few meetings.

But, as time progressed, I felt that connection with you

Snap into place and bind itself tightly.

You and Opa were the only ones in your family who truly accepted

My mom, my brother and I.

Truly accepted us into your family.

Even after the divorce between your son and my mom,

You still considered us part of the family,

And still continued to care about us and love us.

You were always there, and now, you’re not.

You were diagnosed with brain cancer a few months ago.

They treated you, performed the surgery to remove the tumor.

They thought they’d gotten it in time and freed you

Of the cancer’s deadly grasp.

Guess not…

Mom came in to my room today,

Told me the terrible news.

You have 2 weeks to 2 months left to live.

And, though she has your room number,

Mom doesn’t want to go to the hospital to see you,

For fear of you not even remembering us at all.

Oma! I love you! I’m so sorry!

I’m so sorry…. I love you… </3

The Bittersweet Ways of Life

The Bittersweet Ways of Life

5/4/12

Polished mahogany,
A ghostly pale face,
Brown eyes closed,
Eyelids dusted over with a faint purple tinge.
Beautiful lips a purplish hue,
Forever closed,
Never to utter her name again.
People hug her close,
And tell her everything will be ok,
That they’re so sorry for her loss.
Her fingertips brush across his tan cheek,
Brush back his brown hair from his sweet face.
She leans over and lightly presses her lips
To his one last time.
The lid is brought down and sealed shut.
As the eternal death bed is lowered
Down into the soiled ground,
Her mind is flooded with rapid-fire memories.
Them sitting on a bed, cuddling the first day they met.
Laying curled up in his arms.
Falling asleep on his warm chest, in his gentle arms.
Crying in his arms after he said he wanted to go to the army.
The tears stream down her cheeks now
In heavy rivulets and rivers.
She looks down at her left thumb, her right pointer finger,
Her left ring finger. All encrusted with rings from him.
She can take it no longer.
She races away from the macabre ceremony,
Running as fast as she can in her black boots.
A small while later, she stops, out of breath.
She looks up, panting, and spots a pub across the street.
Trudging over to it, she walks through the heavy doors,
Into the dark, dimly-lit interior.
She goes to the bar and sits down at the stool.
Taking a beer from the bartender,
She downs the foul-smelling, awful-tasting liquid.
She asks for another, and another,
And soon she finds herself thoroughly wasted.
She pays her tab and
Stumbles drunkenly out the door.
Stumbling and tripping over her feet, tears in her eyes,
She walks down the dark streets,
Alone and dazed and confused.
The memories still swarm around her mind,
Bouncing off the inner walls like ping pong balls.
They begin to drown her,
Suffocate her with their potent, depressive images.
Suddenly, her heel falls into a sewer grate and
She falls onto the busy street.
The headlights blind her with their vicious coldness.
She hears tires squealing and feels a quick pain.
When she opens her eyes again, there is no pain, only light, and laughter.
Looking to her left, she sees her love.
She smiles and cuddles closer to his warm chest,
Snuggling deeper into his strong, gentle arms.
She’s once again happy.
Life had finally been kind to her,
Giving her back the air she breathed,
The hope she possessed,
Her very reason to live.
She was home.
:)

Butterflies Are For Forgiveness

Butterflies are for Forgiveness

7/11/11

Butterflies are for forgiveness.
Someone once told me that.
The mountains are for calm.
Someone once told me that.
Water is for peace.
Someone once told me that.
Ocean currents are for our inner turmoils.
Someone once told me that.
The forests are for inner tranquility.
Someone once told me that.
Fire is for out hidden passions.
Someone once told me that.
Trees are for our differences.
Someone once told me that.
Rocks are for our equality.
Someone once told me that.
Wind is for the fury within.
Someone once told me that.
Woods are for our hidden fears.
Someone once told me that.
Night is for our nourished love, our inner darkness.
Someone once told me that.
Earth is for our inner creativity.
Day is for our life happiness.
Butterflies…are for forgiveness.

Dear Mom

Dear mom

5/2/10

Dear mom…
I’m sorry for always making you cry
I’m sorry for always hurting you inside.
I’m sorry for always lying to you, how can I
Make these feelings which you have inside
Disappear and leave not a scar behind?
I guess that is something I shall never know,
For I have hurt you beyond
Fixing, beyond redemption, beyond which I cannot know.
I hate how I always seem to know how to hurt people,
Yet I never know how to fix the carnage.
Sometimes I wonder, “Is my purpose to hurt people,
Or can I somehow break this bond to betrayal, my marriage?”
I know I may not be the best at much more than morbid poetry and song,
But if let, I just might be able to crash this, my wounding gong.

Happy early Mother’s Day mommy. Please forgive me for being such a nuisance, such a rebel. I know not why I am the way I am…God must have some purpose for me and I intend to become better, clearer, so as I may clear the cobwebs in my conscience…………. I love you, always and forever. Sleep tight. :*

Emo Love Sonnets LXIX

Emo Love Sonnets LXIX

5/2/11

I don’t love you as if you were a stone of gold, obsidian,
Or bouquet of black roses that propagate ice:
I love you as one loves certain emptiness,
Openly, between the shadow and the heart.

I love you as the ivy that creeps along the wall, blooming
With the sweetly scented flowers, opening, upon themselves,
And thanks to your love that sweet aroma that arose
From the graveyard dwells brightly in my carcass.

I love you without knowing why, or how, or at what time,
I love you darkly without issues or fear:
I love you this way because I know nothing else but Emo love,
Except in this form in which I am not alive nor are you,
So near that your breath on my cheek is mine,
So near that your warm brown eyes close with my nightmares.

Graveyard Follies (Emo Love)

Graveyard Follies (Emo Love)

She’s all alone, sitting
In the middle of a graveyard.
Not a soul in sight.
The silvery orange moonlight
Glints off her long pale hair,
Lightly touches her upturned face,
Illuminating her softly-glowing, pale skin.

The crystal tears streaming
From her clear, hazel eyes
Look, in the moonlight, like
Glittering streaks and streams
Upon her gentle, sorrow-filled face.
Black streaks and rivers run down her cheeks
As her mascara runs, her kohl eyeliner smears.

No one there to share in her sorrow
But for the silent tombs,
The dead lying six feet under.
The spirits of those of the past.
No one there but the ghosts of her past.
No one to wipe away her tears,
To hold her close, to assure her

Things are going to be okay.
No warm arms to embrace her reassuringly.
She shivers as a crisp autumn wind
Kicks up the dust, quickly envelopes her.
She shivers, however, more from the ice in her soul,
Than from the brisk windy breeze.
That wind that whistles and howls among the graves.

That wind that causes the trees to moan,
Low, mournful moans,
That send chills up her spine.
That wind that furthers the illusion
That she is indeed all alone in this destitute,
Lonely, haunted old cemetery.
For, in truth, she is not alone.

He rests, hidden among the skeletal willows,
Watching her with those loving brown eyes.
Watching her as she cries in the moonlight.
Sitting among the graves, all by herself.
His heart breaks as he sees her tears
Fall from her face and splash to the ground among
The thousand sparkling droplets scattered across

The leaves littering the ground. Her blonde hair
Falls over her face, obscuring it, as she bows her head.
He loves her so much, has always loved her,
Yet she doesn’t see him, doesn’t know.
He’s merely a best friend to her,
Someone she can go to when in need of a hug,
When in need of a shoulder to cry on.

Suddenly, the glittering flash of
Moonlight on metal as she
Pulls out a blade, held to her arm.
He bursts out of his hiding place,
Rushes to her side, holds her in his arms.
She cries in his shoulder, and
Brings the blade to her forearm.

The little red drops scatter the
Cold engraved stone behind her,
Coat the dead leaves. Scattering
Across the brush like a hundred cut rubies.
Gently, he opens her hand,
Takes the razor in his own hand.
She sobs harder as the rubies

Drip sluggishly from her arm. He
Pulls her to him, sits cross-legged on
The crunchy leaves, the damp earth.
She rests in his lap, lays her head
Against his shoulder, sobs brokenly.
As he gently pets her hair,
Kisses her neck lightly, he whispers,

“I love you. I always have.”
She looks up into his murky eyes,
Clear sapphires shimmering in her own
Pallor face. She stutters softly,
“I-I-I love y-y-you t-too.”
He looks into her plain face, lowers
His own beautiful face, kisses her softly.

“I make you this promise.
I’ll never leave you, never hurt you.
I’ll never cause you grief. Not if
I can help it. I’ll protect you
From all the hate, all the pain.
I’ll look out for you, I’ll stay by your side.
If you die, I die with you. I love you.”

Her Inner Tears

Her Inner Tears

She walks through the halls,
Hair over her face. Arms crossed protectively
Over her chest. Draped in long
Black sleeves and a hood to hide
Her face, hide her arms.
A gaping hole in her chest where,
Once upon a time, that which was shattered
Long ago once was. Scars that
Criss cross along her arms,
Over her legs, turn purple
As the brisk wind chills her
Blood, stands the hair on her arms
Erect as she steps outside. Her raven hair
Flutters in the wind, like curtains of sheer black.
As she turns to finally go home, a voice
From behind calls to her.
“Hey look, it’s the Little Bitch!”
Reluctantly, she turns to the voice.
Not surprisingly, it’s Them. The girls
Who’ve hated her from first sight.
They saunter up to her, they push
Her down. Her blue eyes burn from the sand
Kicked in her face. Her body becomes bruised
And beaten. A fresh bruise flowers and blooms
Under her right eye as it swells up.
Finally, the girls finish their fun.
She lays on the ground, curls up, all
Alone. The hard, cold earth
Glistens and glitters with the tears she’s shed.
She hugs her body to the earth
As she welcomes its rough embrace.
She welcomes the darkness that slowly begins
To cloud her vision. Her misty blue eyes
Fog over with pain, with sorrow, with death.
The cold wind bites at her exposed flesh.
It makes her shiver. She cries even harder.
Suddenly, a gentle warmth, a softly glowing light
Reaches into her dark, dank, bitterly cold tomb,
Embraces her lovingly. Enfolds her sweetly.
She’s dragged out of that empty, lonely darkness,
Back into the light. Looking up dizzily,
She reaches up with a hand, touches his sweet face.
He holds her tight, kisses her forehead.
“You left me to die alone,” she rasps dazedly.
“Never again will I make that mistake,” He whispers.
“I can’t let you hurt me again,” she says.
He puts a finger to her lips.
“Sh,” he says. “I will never hurt you. I’ll always be here
For you. whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”
“Ok,” she says softly, then she faints.
He carries her home, lays her in her bed.
Applies pressure to her cuts, puts ice on her bruises.
When she comes to, five hours later, it’s dark out.
She sits upright in bed, gets dizzy, but stays sitting up.
He appears from the shadows,
Gently puts a hand on her shoulder.
“Lie down,” he whispers. “I’m here to stay.”
(Then she’s asleep in his warm arms once again.)

Hunger

Hunger

She crouches in the dark corner,
Waiting,
Ready to pounce on her prey.
Her brilliant blue eyes
Glint and glimmer with the thrill of the hunt.
He does not notice her as she
Sits, hidden deep in shadow.
He senses her eyes on his back,
Spins around to gaze at the alleyway
In which she hides.
He squints his eyes in the dark
And peers deep into the shadows.
But he does not see her.
She is well-shrouded by her fellow darkness.
Suddenly the whispered voice enters her head.
Kill him! Kill him!
It keeps saying, over and over again.
She thirsts for his blood,
Hungers for his flesh.
Will she act on this hunger though?
Will she kill the one she loves?
Will she?

I am a Force of Nature's Creation

I am a Force of Nature’s Creation

1/19/12

I am the Earth.
You walk on my soils and cut down my trees.
I put up a fight by making things difficult for you.
You spill blood on the lands I have given you,
Totally destroy the world I have bestowed upon you.
But I am still the land that you walk on.
I am still the place you call home.

I am the Rain.
I am the water that pours down
To wash away the marks you’ve placed on my land.
I cry to wash away the blood you pour on my soils.
I pour down to water the plants and
Keep providing you with oxygen to breathe.
I am still as comforting as a mother’s warm hug.

I am the Owl.
I am full of knowledge and I see the hate of the world.
I am crafty in my ways and swift as an eagle.
I am the witches’ friend and I am their messenger.
If you ever need someone to be there for you,
To be a friend, I am the one.
I am loyal to those who take care of me and treat me right.

I am the Earth, the Rain, and the Owl.
I am… a force of nature’s creation.

I am a Healer and a Lover

I am a Healer and a Lover

1/18/12

I am a healer and a lover.
I wonder why people do the things they do.
I hear hearts breaking.
I see people dying.
I want inner peace and love.

I am a healer and a lover.
I pretend that life is good, even when I know it’s not.
I feel the pain of those around me.
I touch people’s hearts.
I worry about my family, friends, and loved ones.
I cry at the thought of how cruel this world really is.

I am a healer and a lover.
I understand that the world is cruel and harsh.
I say to hell with hate, people should love!
I dream of a life that’s nicer to me.
I try to get people to see my views and understand, but they don’t.
I hope for things to get better for those good people in the world.

I am a healer and a lover.

If I Were A Guy

If I Were a Guy

5/9/12

If I were a guy,
I’d serenade you.
If I were a guy,
I’d shower you in kisses and love.
If I were a guy,
I’d never do drugs,
And I’d never use you for anything.
I’d show you what it’s like
To truly be loved and
To truly be cherished.
I’d show you what it’s like
To truly be wanted,
To truly be cared about.
I’d hold you when you wanted to be held,
Cuddle with you when you were cold,
Comfort you when you were upset,
Even if I was the reason you were upset.
I’d put you before my own habits.
And always do my best to be there for you.
If I were a guy,
I’d show you how beautiful and amazing you are,
I’d teach you all about love.
If I were a guy,
I’d put a smile on that pretty face, 
I’d call you just to hear your voice,
And make you smile.
I’d text you sweet “good mornings”
And loving “good nights”.
I’d give you kind nicknames,
And make you feel special.
I’d bring roses to school for you
On just random days,
With money I saved up for those occasions.
I’d sneak up behind you,
And grab you around the waist,
And smile as you shriek and then smile too.
If I were a guy,
I’d never ask you for sex,
I’d hold doors open for you,
And hold you in public.
I’d never be afraid to show you off,
By my side to the world.
I’d stand up for you and
Never let you cry alone.
If I were a guy,
I’d show you what it’s truly like
To love and be loved.

If I Were A Man

If I were a Man

If I were a man,
I would wipe away your tears.
I would never let you cry
At least not all by yourself.
If I were a man,
I’d beat all the other guys.
I’d be better than any of them
Could ever even dream to be.
If I were a man,
You’d never be alone.
I would make you feel loved
Better than any other girl.
If I were a man,
I would treat you so right.
I would put you where you belong,
Up high atop a pedestal.
If I were a man,
I’d be what you want.
I would give you your space,
But be there when you wanted me too.
If I were a man,
You’d have no need to cry.
You would always be so happy
And be the one who’s so full of light.
I would fill your heart with light,
And make your eyes shine bright with joy.
But I’m not a man.
And you’re still upset.
I just really wish I only could
Make you see the beauty that I see.
I really wish I could see your face
Light up with that gorgeous smile
That you have.
I know you hide a lot of pain,
I just wish I could help you
Feel better and be happy again.
I don’t want to see my bestie
Cry as though the world is ending.
All I can say is:
If I were a man, and not a little boy,
I would always show you how
To smile, to laugh, to fly.
I would give you the wings to fly,
And never let you fall.
I’ll always be here to catch you.
I really hope things get better,
My dearest friend.
If you ever need me,
You know where to fine me.
Cheer up.

I Love...

I Love…

10/18/10

…the way your body melds with mine so easily.
…the way you seduce me so teasingly.
…your hands on my body.
…your lips on my body.
…your tongue and teeth at my neck.
…your mouth at my chest.
…your hot breath on my skin.
I love everything about you.
…your fingers on my thighs.
…how your touch gives me highs.
…the tingles you send up my spine.
…how, for your touch, I pine.
…the taste of you on my lips.
…the feel of your hands on my hips.
…the taste of you in my mouth.
I love what you do to me.
…your arms around my waist.
…your tongue in my mouth, on my tongue, your taste.
…the sound of your breath against my chest.
…the touch of your lips to my breast.
…the sight of your beautiful brown eyes looking up at me.
…how when you leave, your eyes are all I see.
…how, even after you’ve gone, your smell still surrounds me.
I love you baby, plain and simple. Do you love me?

I'm Alive Again

I’m Alive Again

Love.
Your love.
Around me.
Wrapped in your arms.
Your soft lips on mine.
Your tongue on my body.
Your touch warming my cool flesh.
Your hands caressing my body.
Our chests pressed tightly to each other.
Legs entwined, wrapped about one another.
A bond so sweet that my heart takes flight.
Your touch, so exhilarating.
Your kisses, so soft and sweet.
Your love, so addicting.
My broken wings mend.
No longer dead.
My heart soars.
I love
You.

I Really Just Want You In My Grasp

I Really Just Want You In My Grasp

I love the way your crooked smile
Lifts my heart, makes it run a mile.
Your beautiful eyes make me wild.
I feel just like a little child.
Your hands all over my hot flesh.
Past all the clothes, under the mesh.
Your smell, your taste, so sweet and fresh.
Really, I love you.

Just like animals, we lose control.
Mad with need, it often takes a toll.
Your body pressed hard against my own.
My chest to yours, you are mine to own.
Your hands on my chest, my arms, my legs.
Your lips on mine, there’s no need for begs.
A sex fiend shown, dragged up from my dregs.
Want me to show you how?

You pull me down on top of you, shirts off.
You hold me tight as you pull the pants off.
Gently you ease me onto the mattress.
You lay me down, you whisper, “Angel’s Kiss.”
I smile at my name, kiss you tenderly.
You hold me to you, stroke me tenderly.
You hold me like I’m fragile, gingerly.
In your arms, under the blankets.
My arms around your neck, yours around my waist.
You kiss my neck, lick my chest, nibble my breast.
Your love, as mysterious as a treasure chest.
Your hot breath against my flesh, a gentle breeze.
Only for you would I cross a thousand seas.
To my fragile heart, only you hold the keys.
Grasp you close, hold you tight, I’ll blow your mind.

It's Cold Tonight. Will you come closer? (English and French versions)

It’s Cold Tonight. Will You Come Closer? (French and English version)

11/6/11

Il fait froid ce soir. Vous viendra étroite?
Il fait froid ce soir. Est-ce que vous sera snuggle avec moi?
Il fait froid ce soir. Vous gardera me chaud?
Vous adorerez me tonight?
Vous dormirez à mes côtés ce soir?
Vous restera à mes côtés pour toujours?
Sera tu m'aimes même lorsque je suis laid?
Sera tu m'aimes même lorsque je suis moyenne?
Tu m'aimes pour moi?
Ou, vous aimez le visage que placer sur tous les jours?
Vous gardera me safe from harm?
Forever et tous les temps?
Seriez-vous prêt à aimer un monstre comme moi?
Vous tiendra me fermer,
Et la promesse de ne pas lâcher jamais?
Va vous laissez-moi vous toucher?
Va vous laissez-vous me toucher ?
Il fait froid ce soir. Vous viendra plus près?
Et chuchotement dans mon oreille, "J’taime baby girl”?

It’s cold tonight. Will you come close?
It’s cold tonight. Will you snuggle with me?
It’s cold tonight. Will you keep me warm?
Will you love me tonight?
Will you sleep by my side tonight?
Will you stay by my side forever?
Will you love me even when I’m ugly?
Will you love me even when I’m mean?
Do you love me for me?
Or do you love the face I put on everyday?
Will you keep me safe from harm,
Forever and all time?
Would you be willing to love a monster like me?
Will you hold me close,
And promise not to ever let go?
Will you let me touch you?
Will you let yourself touch me?
It’s cold tonight. Will you come closer?
And whisper in my ear, “I love you baby girl”?

I Would Die For You, My Life

I Would Die For You, My Life

If I were to fall into the sky,
Would you be there to hold me down?
Or would you just let me fly?
Until I crash down to the ground,
Lay me down by your side and
Dry my tears with your loving embrace.
Destroy my sorrow and keep your hand
In mine. Never let me fall back to that place.
Empty and broken, you found me on thee
Floor, wings broken, spirit shattered.
Over all the floor, the wreck that once was me.
Racing to you now, no longer bruised and battered.
You saved me from certain death.
Only you can take away my breath.
Until you’re done with me, I live for you.

You are my love, you are my life.

Kidnapping the Black

Kidnapping the Black

I need a savior. Can you be my rescuer in the dark?
Can you pull me out of my self-made prison? Would you even try?
Will you kidnap the dark and bring back the light to my life?
Will you take away the bats, the cobwebs, the spiders? Could you bring back the butterflies?
Could you possibly bring back the color into my life, instead of everything
Being in plain black, white, grey, and red?
Can you replace the hate and anger and tears in my soul,
With love and happiness and laughter in my heart?
Can you fix this nonstop leak in my eyes, in my heart?
Can you fix these broken wings, this shattered heart? Can you show me love,
So that I may feel joy? Stay with me so that I may no longer be alone.
Whisper the three magic words into my ear, let them sink into my heart.
Tell me these words:
“I love you.”

My Lover

My Lover

10/26/10

Your soft hands on my body,
Send chills of pleasure up my spine.
Your warm breath upon my neck,
A gentle welcome to my skin.
Your fingertips on my flesh,
Leave trails of tingles in their wake.
Your loving lips pressed to mine,
Your gentle kisses give me highs.
Your hot flesh clasped against mine,
I spiral up into the light.
Your tongue against my pale flesh
Sends me into sheer ecstasy.
Your teeth nibbling at my throat,
Your hands trailing down my body,
As you kiss and bite my lips.
Your body pressed tight to my own
As I hold you close to me.
A sense of pure pleasure washes
Over me every time you’re
Near me, every time you touch me.
I may sound like a silly
School girl, but oh well, I love you.
You make me feel beautiful,
Alive, every time I see you.
Able to fly when you touch me.
You healed my broken, trashed wings,
With starlight and sunshine.
Put together my shattered heart
With moonlight and rainbows.
Breathed life into me once more.
You saved my life, how can I repay you?

Nature's Safe Homecomings

Nature’s Safe Homecomings

4/10/12

The trees shimmy and shake,
The leaves swoop and drift to the forest floor.
The little creatures scurry and fly
Among the twigs and forest shrubbery.
As my bare feet walk gently
Across the forest floor,
Breaking twigs and crackling dry leaves,
I gaze about myself with awe.
I can smell the musky scent
Of the sap oozing sluggishly from the trees.
I feel the cool breeze on my bare arms
And legs and taste the rain
On my lips.
The large leaves of the trees
Feel cool and welcoming to my touch.
I am at peace in this forest of love.
Suddenly, I smell an odor I
Know right away doesn’t belong.
The ashy, pungent smell of smoke
Fills the forest.
Behind me, I sense a growing fire.
I feel the Devil’s hot breath
Against my back as the hairs
Stand on end.
Quickly, I race amongst the other animals
Through the forest, away from the fiery demons.
I run and run for miles.
Suddenly, I reach a clearing.
I am once again safe.
There is no sign of the fire in sense.
The animals surround me,
The sounds and smells of nature
Encircle me in their loving arms.
The forest once again
Entrances me in its warm, loving embrace.
I am at peace,
I am home.
I
Am
Free.

One Day...

One Day…

5/14/12

Her eyes are like emeralds,
Her fur like fine silk.
Her meow is like a professional,
Her soul shining like a diamond.
She is the most beautiful thing
To ever walk this earth.
She’s a goddess among peasants.
Her joy and happiness can be
Transferred to those surrounding her.
She’s such a happy spirit.
She plays and runs around,
She almost leaps for joy.
She is my one true accomplishment.
But now that achievement is gone.
You see, Gadget died just yesterday.
She went from being this
Happy-go-lucky, fun-loving cat,
To being a depressed, dying angel,
All within the space of 3 days.
She left this world without even saying goodbye,
And now she’s all alone,
Wherever she may be now.
But one day, I’ll see her again.
One day, we will be reunited.
And neither of us will be suffering anymore.
We can frolic in fields of green again.
We can be happy, once again together. One day…

Promises are Meant to Be Broken

Promises Are Meant To Be Broken

5/1/12

You once told me
That you loved me too much to ever
Be angry with me, or leave.
But now you frequently want to leave.
I know it’s my fault,
For I pick all the fights
Due to my distrust in drugs.
I was raised that they were all bad,
Natural or not.
I was raised, watching my loved ones change
Due to drug use.
I hate that all I do is fight with you
On such a stupid subject.
I’d much rather argue only with much more
Reasonably large subjects.
I guess I’m just like a little pathetic school girl,
Terrified that you’re going to change
Far beyond my reach and that I will lose you.
If I lose you, Zar,
I won’t be able to live with myself,
Knowing that I will have been the reason
For your departure.
You’re the only one who can make me feel
Like I truly am beautiful, inside and out.
I know I argue with you and tell you I’m a monster.
But it’s because I know that I can be beautiful,
It’s just hard to accept that fact
When I’ve always been told that I’m ugly.
I grew to believe what people said about me,
And I grew to blame myself for
Everything that has happened in my life.
I call myself stupid because I am.
I smoke something that I hate, something that’ll kill me,
And that makes me stupid.
I call myself ugly,
Because it’s harder to accept that I’m pretty.
It’s easier for me to believe that I’m ugly and unwanted,
Than it is to believe that I’m loved and beautiful.
It’s so much easier for me to believe
All the bad things I say about myself,
Than to accept that I’m a good person.
I try to be there for my friends and all,
So that I can make up for my past,
Make up for my flaws and mistakes.
I try to believe that I truly am beautiful
And amazing. But it’s so hard when I see
The way I treat others.
The way I treat my friends, my family,
Your friends, even you my love.
I see these actions that I don’t like,
And I hate it.
It makes me hate who I am.
I’m trying to make myself believe
That I’m beautiful,
That I’m so amazing,
Not for my friends and family,
Not even for myself.
I’m trying for you my dearest
Guardian angel.
You mean the whole world to me,
And if I lose you,
I lose my will to keep fighting and trying in life.
If I lose you, I will become a walking zombie.
The only thing I would feel would be depression.
I’d be crushed.
Please cuddle bear.
I’m doing my best to try to change for you,
To become better and just believe
In your beliefs in myself…
To just believe in you.
I’ve been so dependent on myself for so long,
I can’t do that anymore.
I need you to love me, to keep me close
And never, ever let me go.
Please tell me you can do that.
Please tell me you can be my savior again.
That you can be the one to keep me safe
And keep me beautiful.
I love you.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

10/11/11

Roses are red,
There’s love in our bed.
Violets are blue,
In our hearts too.
The trees are all green,
You’re always so serene,
Lilies are white,
When I’m in your sight.
Carnations are pink.
You’re one great big tall drink,
Daffodils are yellow.
Of love shots and jello.
You always come bouncing right back to me,
In my eyes, you’re all that I see.
I beseech you to never leave me,
Though I really don’t have to, you’re mine,
And I’m yours, forever and all time.
You always hold me just tight enough.
You never tell me you’ve had enough
Of me. You’re always there when I need you,
I know I can forever count on you,
My one best friend, my love, my life.
I know you’ll always be there for me, your wife.
Your voice, it’s soft like the ocean.
Your eyes, so kind and full of devotion.
I never lose faith or trust in you,
Because I know you’ll stay by me, won’t you?
You will forever be perfect in my eyes,
No matter what you say or do, no matter any lies.
You are perfect to me, as I am perfect to you.
I love you my dearest guardian angel.
And I know you love me too.
*MUAH*

The Sleeping Princess

The Sleeping Princess

5/21/12

Nobody listens,
Nobody cares.
I could talk until I’m winded,
I could give advice until I die.
It wouldn’t matter to other people.
Nobody wants to hear the “unimportant ramblings”
Of a crazy old hag.
No matter how helpful the advice,
No one wants to hear me out.
I’m just another face in the crowd,
A soft voice on the wind.
Not even the love of my life
Wants to hear what I have to say.
He’d rather cover it all up,
Remain hidden in his cocoon of self-hatred.
How can you care for someone else,
If you have not yet first learned
To care about yourself?
How can someone so sweet and innocent
Change so drastically into something so hard-hearted and guilty?
How can the love of your life
Suddenly become the one you most fear?
(the one whom causes you the most angst?)
How is it possible for life to so easily
Take something so beautiful
And turn it into something so feared?
How can Life dare to give someone
So broken and damaged as I
Something so beautiful and whole as he?
How can Life dare to do this
Dastardly deed,
Then turn around and take it all away?
Why is there no color left in my world?
Is there really no beauty left
In this hideous place?
Is there really no more warmth left
To warm this cold world?
Is there no kindness, no respect,
No love left over
To heal these horrendous scars and wounds?
I feel your soft flesh
Against mine own,
I miss your gentle touch.
I feel the warmth in your hugs
And your kisses.
How can they be so cold now?
I feel the comfort of your body
Clasped tight against mine,
Of your hand stroking down my back.
Am I really no longer allowed
To such sweet bliss as this?
Am I really not allowed
To the hint of a peaceful feeling inside?
Am I to live the life of a stone,
Cold and drab and lifeless?
Am I to breathe the breath of the walking dead;
Icy and unbreathing?
Or will I one day once again
Play the role of the Sleeping Princess?
Awaiting for my sweet prince to arrive
And awaken me from my deep slumber.
Or do I already play that role,
Awaiting in lonely silence for my love
To himself awaken and in turn
Come to my dark corner?
Quietly awaiting my prince
To come and save me from myself.
For I cannot save myself,
Just as I could not, and cannot, save you.
It is up to you if you were to be saved.
Yet I know you will not make that “dreaded” decision
And so I shall lay in wait,
Sprawled out on my stone slab of a bed,
Longingly awaiting the day you open your eyes
And heart to me. Awaiting the day you
Truly see me and want me to live.
I lay on this tombstone, in this crypt,
Just waiting for the day
You reawaken your senses, the day you
Come back to rescue me and take me to protect me forever.

So Far Away

So Far Away

10/3/11

Baby, I can feel you falling away.
I feel you slipping through my fingers.
I reach out to touch your once-smiling face,
But you’re just out of reach of my fingertips.
I yearn to be held by your strong arms,
To feel safe and warm, once again by your side,
But you’re so far away,
I just can't seem to reach you.
I ache to lay by your side again,
To be able to touch you again.
I feel you lying next to me,
Yet you’re not really there, are you?
How could you be? You’re so far away.
I feel the strength in your hugs leaving you,
Your kisses start to become cold and forced.
The tears slide down my cheeks
As I realize that forever may not be real,
That our love might dissipate,
And that I might lose you.
That the “forever” we spoke of
Might actually become “never again”.
I love you with all my heart
And I never want to lose you.
But if your choice is to leave and never come back,
I cannot stop you.
For who am I to change Fate,
But a mere mortal?
A weak human being who has yet to learn
Her place in life, or even the meaning
Of her life, of her being here, alive.
If I lose you, however,
I know that I will truly be lost.
That I will truly have no purpose
In life. That I am forsaken.
If I lose you, I will never stop
Looking for you, trying to get you back.
I will forevermore be in search
Of the love that we once shared in,
Of the joy and peace
We once lived in, together.
Until I get back
The man whom I fell in love with,
I will forever be a lonely soul,
I will forever be in search of our love.
I will always question,
“Where did it go? What happened
To change everything,
And make it all go dead?”
I will die, with these last words,
Uttered with my last breath,
“I love you.”

Stonger or not

Stonger or not

6/6/13

 

I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.

But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.

It's still there, ringing in my head loud and clear.

But my strength is returning to me. My time to be me again, is drawing near.

I will never be the same. Oh no. Not the same.

But I might be better, or I might be insane.

Only time can tell what will happen

To this girl so fond of napping,

Cuddled up in the arms of her love,

At that time, feeling so high and above.

I've been broken, yes.

I've been shattered inside my chest.

But if I can push through this, like a warrior,

I may no longer be the bad-news-carrier.

I might one day lift up my head,

And see the sunrise with love, not dread.

I will always love him, for he is my love.

But if I can't make it past this, I'll never again rise above.

Above all this pain, above all this heart break.

The things that watching the one you love leave tends to make.

I don't know if I'll ever love again,

For I am trapped inside my mind's den.

But if I can find the power to find love one day,

May the Goddess bless it in every single way.

I don't know how long it will take me to be able to trust,

But I don't want to live a life full of rust.

The rust of old relationships gone to hell,

The rust of a thousand promises broken without tell.

I don't want to live a life bathed in blood,

The blood of a broken heart, covered in bruises and crud.

I always wanted that perfect relationship with no fights, no anger.

But now I've come to see that there is no such thing as no anger.

All relationships start happy and get bumpy,

But that's not a sign to end it all grumpy.

If you truly love someone with all your heart,

You fight for them to stay, no matter how tart.

You stay with them through it all,

Through the fights and through the fall.

If they leave, that's on them.

But if you leave for a selfish reason, that's on you my friend.

If you leave behind someone who loves you with all their soul,

You might end up alone, with a dark and empty hole.

I'm just saying that I love with all I have,

But when it gets thrown in my face, it takes all I have

To not break down and nap for eternity.

I try to show you how to reach true love, even in frailty.

If you push me away because of a stupid reason,

I can't control that, today or in any other season.

But I'll leave you with this one thought:

If you had stayed, how much further would we have got?

I'm getting stronger, day by painful day.

But it doesn't mean the pain has gone away.

Then and Now

Then and Now

“Everytime I fell, who was there to catch me?
No One.
Every time I cries, whose shoulder did I lean on?
Nobody’s.
When I felt so hideous, so repulsive, who was there to make me feel beautiful?
No fucking one.
When I was blue, who made me pink? When I was down, who brought me up? When I was frowning, who made me smile?
Nobody.
Has ther always been someone there for me, by my side?
Never.
Did I always smile? Did I always laugh?
No.
Has there always been a dark longing, a depression, an anger, which I have struggled so hard to keep hidden inside forever?
Yes.
Did I cut myself out of self-loathing and anger?
Always.
Will I always be trapped in this hated black hole?
Forever.
Will I die here, alone, in the cold, in the dark? With no warm arms of hope to ever embrace me?
Yes.”
But that was then, this is now. I’m surrounded by white light, the birds are singing, the sun is bright and warm,
Almost welcoming.
That black hole was my life, despite that I didn’t have it as bad as most teens. It was bad enough for me, though.
My own Hell.
That was then, this is now. That was my life,
Until I had you. :)

Where Were You Daddy?

Where were you daddy?

1/12/12

Where were you daddy
All the times I’ve needed you?
Where were you
On your son’s first birthday?
Where were you
When mommy was crying
All through the night?
Where were you
When I would cry
Myself to sleep at night?
Where were you
When your son turned 13?
Where were you
When I celebrated my sweet 16?
Where were you
When I rode my first bike?
Where were you when
I got my first boyfriend?
Where were you when
I got my first heart break?
Where were you when
My step dad broke mom’s heart?
Where were you when
My trust was betrayed
For the first time by a close friend?
Where were you when
I walked down that aisle
Towards the man that I love?
Where were you when
I was struggling in school?
Where were you when
I needed my father
To hold me as I cried,
Feeling so helpless and alone?
Where were you when
I had troubles
Fitting in at school?
Where were you when
The students at my schools
Didn’t like me and
Made me feel like I didn’t belong?
Where were you as
They cut me down piece by piece?
Where were you daddy,
When they told me I couldn’t do anything right?
Where were you daddy,
When I died?
Where are you now daddy?
Where are you now?

Your Inner Tears

Your Inner Tears

You claim that nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine.
Yet why, then, do you seem so upset, so depressed?
Why is it, when I ask for you to tell me what’s wrong,
You suddenly quit texting or IMing me all together?
You change the subject, casually, but not quite
As slyly, as I’m sure you’re trying to be.
I text, “What’s wrong? What’s the matter with you?”
You respond, “Nada.” I push the issue. And, as usual,
You suddenly disappear. I don’t hear from you for days.
Do you have inner tears you try to hide?
Do you have hidden fears you refuse to tell me?
What is it that causes you enough angst
That, despite your personality, you feel this upset?
You’re not one to be easily distraught,
Especially not over long periods of time.
Are you crying on the inside? Just hoping
That no one will notice, that I won’t notice?
Is there some deep ache you’re concealing
Deep within, just praying I’ll let it go, I won’t ask?
But I love you so much, your pain is my pain.
Please don’t leave me in this empty darkness.
Please tell me what’s wrong, let me help you.

No Name 9

No Name 9

There she is,
In the middle of the pouring rain,
Sitting
In the middle of an empty park,
Swinging
On a lonely, solitary swing set.
Crying
Tears of painful heartache.
Bleeding Inside
From a Shattered Heart.
The trees thrash in the
Howling wind.
The tears stream
From her eyes,
Mixing with the rain.
She’s so alone,
No one to hold her.
Suddenly,
He appears beside her.
He takes her hands,
He rubs away her tears.
She holds him tight,
Afraid
She might lose him again
If she lets go.
He hugs her close,
Kisses her neck,
Whispers words of love
In her ear.
Together they stand,
In the pouring rain.
Kissing
Passionately and longingly.
Holding
One another close.
Together
Forever more.

No Name 10

No Name 10

I know that I screw everything up,
Don’t try to tell me otherwise.
I know that I’m a monster inside and out,
It cannot be denied.
I feel like I don’t deserve all the good
That resides in my life.
I don’t deserve the house I live in,
The loyal friends I have,
The wonderful family I was born into,
Or even you, the love of my life.
I don’t deserve the good fortune I’ve had.
I hurt and use my friends and such.
I make you cry.
Why do you stay if I’m such a monster?
I know you love me,
Yet I still understand not why.
I love you with all my heart,
Mainly because you were the only one
To stay with me so long, to love me.
But why do you love me?
Why do you stay?
I shouldn’t even matter to you,
Since all I do is hurt you.
That’s all I’m good at:
Writing dark stuff and making people cry.
If I got paid every time
I hurt someone, especially you my love,
I’d be rich.
This thought, as well as the thought
That I might lose you out of my anger,
Haunts me every night,
Every time we argue.
I’m terrified of losing you because I know
That if I lose you,
I’ll never be the same,
I’ll never be able to be truly happy again.
I can put on a fake smile a million times.
It will never change how I feel.
I ache when I’m away from you,
When we get in these fights and I hurt you.
I’m sorry for my mistakes,
My dearest guardian angel,
My loving cuddle bear.
Please stay.
Don’t take breaks. I’ll try to be better.
I promise.
Just please don’t leave me.
Please.
I love you…

Short Stories Section

 Short Stories Section

 

 

A Beloved Girlfriend

A Beloved Girlfriend
10/8/10

     Rose awakens from yet another fitful sleep. Her coughing spasms shake you out of your dream. As you hold your girlfriend in your arms, cradling her to calm her fits, your heart aches for her. She’s so sick. You wish you could do more for her, but can’t. You can only comfort her and kiss her passionately, make sure she’s happy. As you gently mop up the bloody spittle from her chin, you begin to feel like a janitor. Cleaning up her small messes to try to make this easier for her, and in return, you get kisses and caresses and lots of love. You try to spend as much time as possible with your dear Rose. As you cradle her this night, you think back to a few days before, when you were sitting beside her doing homework. At the time, you were doing your vocabulary for English. The word ‘prosaic’ was on the list.
     “Huh,” she giggles. “Prosaic almost sounds like that medicine, Prozac!” She begins to giggle uncontrollably and you join her. She’s so funny and cute, you just can’t help yourself.
     She mentions how “maverick” is also the title of some action movie, and “sluggard” just sounds like a long, white, mushy slug! You playfully tackle her as she makes that last comment. “You’re so dirty,” you whisper against her soft, pale neck.
     She reaches up to your face and brings your lips to hers, gently kissing you. Your lips part as her soft pink tongue flicks in and out of your mouth, causing you to become turned on. Your hands softly caress her curves, her waist. She kisses you a little longer, but pulls away just as her mother walks in.
     As you continue to cradle Rose in your arms in the present day, you smile sweetly at the memory. You look down at Rose’s beautiful, gentle face and notice a look of peace. She’s asleep. You lay her back down and go back to your sleeping bag on the floor.
     I love you, my beautiful, beloved girlfriend, you think as you drift off to sleep yourself.

The Black Mare or the Swan

The Black Swan or the White Mare

     You see her? That beautiful, elegant, swan-like creature ascending the palace steps? She’s beautiful isn’t she? With her soft, silky skin as pale as buttermilk, and her sleek and shiny raven black hair. She holds the edges of her black and red corseted dress in her small, delicate hands. You watch her as her little feet, clad in spiky black stiletto boots, climb up each of the 130 steps. The higher she climbs, the more laborious she breathes as, with each step, she is taken higher and higher above the fragrant lavender fields below. Finally, she reaches you. You hold the door open for her. This noble lady of the highlands merely nods to you. Her forest green eyes never even glance at your murky brown ones. You feel an aching in your breast. What? Did you really expect her, this noble goddess, to look at you and compliment you or even speak to you? You, the humblest of peasants. You, who tends to the king’s patrons and guests. You, who holds open doors for the guests and newcomers. You, who does all this but for a few mere shillings so that you might go home and be able to feed your 4 dogs and 2 foster children. You, who has ash residue on his face. Did you really think that the Lady Isingale would notice you? You, 35-year-old horse master Dietros, with the long brown hair in your warm brown eyes and gentle face. But at least you got a nod. Yes, at least you got something. That’s more than many can say.
     Suddenly, you hear more footsteps click-clacking on the flagstone. Taking a deep, lonely breath, you look up to greet the next newcomer. Your breath catches in your throat as you see another, equally beautiful woman approaching. She is also pale, but her skin is the shade of a white mare’s mane. Her throat is long and graceful, accentuated by a sparkling, diamond-encrusted choker. Her long, platinum blonde curls and waves flow down her back as she walks up in her glistening white gown that shines like a thousand glittering diamonds. You hold the door open for her and bow low to the ground. You feel a slight tap on your shoulder and hear a soft giggle. Looking up, you see the Lady Undiel is gazing at you and her hand is reaching out to you, clutching something shiny. She gently takes your hand and places in your palm a single gold piece that is worth a hundred shillings! You gaze at her in amazement and she giggles again at the bewildered look on your face.
     “See you at the feast, kind and humble Dietros,” the Lady Undiel whispers. And before you can ask her how she knew your name, she sweeps off, gliding across the floor to the throne room.
     You stand there, alone, your heart beating fast with excitement and amazement. She actually talked to you, she handed you a gold piece. But what’s more, she actually called you by your name! You’re so amazed and ecstatic, you don’t realize someone else arriving until they tap you on your shoulder. You jump a mile into the air and notice that it is the royal catering service. You hold the door open for them, and then follow them inside the palace doors.
     You follow the royal procession into the royal dining hall. Once inside, you gaze about you in awe. Gold seems to be on everything. There are gold plates, gold silverware, gold chairs, and even gold-colored napkins. There are gold inlays in the walls as well as little nooks carved out of the walls to create little shelves for golden statues of crosses and the Virgin Mary. Windows are set high up in the gilded walls, the illuminating light cast from the high sun glinting off of the golden, glittering dining ware.
     You stand there in the middle of the doorway, your jaw long-since dropped from the awe you feel at the sight of the vast dining room. Twenty long tables sit side by side in the room. Table cloths of the finest blue silk lay over each table. A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to jump, startled, once again. You turn shyly and see that it is the beautiful Lady Undiel. 
     “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my dear friend. The humble Dietros. I’m glad to see you were able to make it to the grand feast,” Lady Undiel murmurs in that soft, gentle whisper of a voice of hers.
     Before you can get a single syllable out, a cool, low voice utters from behind you, “My, my, my. And who is your…eh…friend, Lady Undiel?”
     Turning slowly, you see the youthful, dark Lady Isingale. She looks just as beautiful as ever, with a golden circlet atop her head. You notice an aura of arrogance and haughtiness about her, an aura that doe4s not lie about Lady Undiel. Her blood red lips make her bright green eyes seem even brighter. Her black fingernails are sharpened to a point and she holds a cigarette in her right hand, between her pointer and middle fingers.
     Lady Undiel’s hushed voice pulls you out of your trance.
     “His name is Dietros Amanni, and he is going to be joining us for dinner tonight,” Lady Undiel replies.
     You look down at your ragged peasant shoes, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
     But you have little time to mope, for within seconds, Lady Undiel is nudging you towards a nearby table. You stop long enough to pull her chair out for her, and then you are ushered into your own chair, startlingly by her side. A royal servant comes out and sees you by the Lady’s side.
     “Ahem. Sir? I’m afraid that you must move. These tables are for the king’s guests only.”
     You start to rise, but Lady Undiel puts a hand on yours and, looking up at the servant, mutters, “He’s with me.”
     One look into her electrifyingly icy blue eyes and the servant is on his way back to the kitchens. He knows better than to argue with the rich.
     You glance down at your new companion and smile at her. “Thank you,” you murmur.
     “Not a problem,” Lady Undiel mutters back. “Now come. Sit down. Let us eat.”
     You two start to delve into the scrumptious roasted pig, the delicious turkey legs, the squash and sweet potatoes, the juicy corn on the cob, the crisp cabbage leaves. Suddenly, Lady Isingale appears behind you both and whispers softly.
     “May I join you two in polite company?” Lady Isingale murmurs.
     You turn in your seat and murmur softly, “Of course, my Lady,” beckoning her to the empty seat on your right.
     She lightly takes the seat and smiles softly at you.
     “Thank you humble sir. You are most kind,” she murmurs.
     “No trouble at all, Lady Isingale,” you say, averting your eyes from her own.
     You all go back to eating in silence, occasionally exclaiming over how good the food is. But that is all the words that are spoken between the three of you for the rest of the meal.
     A couple hours later, the feast is over, having ended with a dessert of sweet and succulent native fruits.
     You have nowhere to stay and it is well into the nighttime hours. The full pale moon is hung high in the sky and it is not wise to walk alone in these parts at night. Then Lady Undiel pipes up.
     “You can stay in the Lady Isingale’s and my own room,” she says.
     You try to decline the offer, but both women grab a hold of each of your hands and pull you to the room.
     Once there, you plop onto a feather mattress, tired and worn out, but happy. Lady Isingale sits to your left and Lady Undiel to your right. The rest of the evening is full of harmony and pleasure.
     The next morning, you awake to a ray of golden sunlight falling over your face. You glance around. The bed you lay on is empty, but for yourself and a pale envelope.
     The envelope is addressed to you, Dietros.
     Slowly, with shaky hands, you slip your finger under the seal and pull the paper open. Inside is written in wavy, yet threatening handwriting:

Young Dietros,
     We know of your low stature and your love affair with the beautiful and noble ladies Isingale and Undiel. Because of your affairs, you have put the kingdom in dire danger. Because of this, we, the Order of the King’s Monks, have taken captive of both of these noble ladies. You will find us at the crossing of Mirsh and Sheesha, at the old Field’s Cemetery. Be there by 5 tonight, and come alone. Not that you have anyone to call upon for help.
Sincerely,
The Order of the King’s Monks

     With tears in your eyes and a heavy heart, you get dressed and begin your 4-mile walk to the cemetery.
     As you get closer to the cemetery, your heart grows heavier and heavier. Suddenly, you run into a wooden post. Looking up, your heart fills with dread. You’re at the crossing of Mirsh and Sheesha.
     You slowly trudge through the tall, gargoyle-flanked, iron gates. A figure dressed all in black, with a hood covering his face, appears before you. Your heart speeds up in fear and sweat pours down your face. The figure says nothing. Only turns and walks down a steep, rocky pathway partially hidden, covered with shrubbery. You know that this figure wants you to follow. You don’t have to be told twice, or even once for that matter.
     You follow the dark figure down the steep and winding pathway until you reach a large stone tomb. The tomb is made of pure white marble stone and has a shiny mahogany door. It is through this door that the monk leads you. You can barely breathe, your heart is beating so fast. You look past the monk and your heart stops. There, bent over a table of cold stone, is Lady Isingale and Lady Undiel. Their hands are bound behind their back and gags rest between their teeth. You try to rush towards them, but the monk holds you back.
     Suddenly, a clear, cold voice resonates from the opposite end of the tomb.
     “You have a choice, young horse master Dietros,” the monk at the end of the tomb says.
     “You must choose which lady you truly love,” he continues. “Either you take the beautiful, dark, and lovely Black Swan, Lady Isingale. OR you can take the gorgeous, light, and cheerful White Mare, Lady Undiel. Whatever your choice, the other will die. It is up to you.”
     Your palms sweat and your eyes bug out. You are so nervous. This is the hardest decision you have ever had to make. Sure, Lady Undiel was the one to be so nice to you and she treated you like an equal. But Lady Isingale changed her ways and was nice to you as well. You raise your eyes and look into both ladies’ eyes. There is where you see you decision. You lift your eyes to the monk who spoke to you and open your mouth to say your decision.

The End

Dana and Esai

Dana and Esai

     In the year 2011, in a small but decent-sized house in the small town of Clifton, Arizona, there lives a young girl, Dana Stone, 16 years of age, a junior at Clifton High School. She lives with her evil stepfather, Seth McGreave, and her gentle-hearted mother Athena Stone-McGreave.
     Dana’s stepfather is not quite ugly, yet not quite handsome either. He has slate-grey eyes that are almost always bloodshot from him drinking. His hair is buzzed and completely grey, his skin forever tanned a dark reddish brown. He is 45 years old. Her mother, on the flip side, is beautiful, with fiery red hair falling about her face in gentle curls, big baby blue eyes, full lips, and a fair complexion. She is merely 35 years old. Her daughter, Dana, had gotten her mother’s looks, rather than getting her biological father’s looks. Her father had been a good man, all the up to his last breath. He had died at the tender age of 26 of an aneurism, when Dana’s mother was 23, 4 years after Dana was born. He’d had thin lips, a light dusting of freckles across his nose, light brown hair, bright green eyes, and a bright smile. Dana has hair black as the devil’s heart, pale, full lips, and her mother’s big blue eyes. Dana is beautiful, yet she does not believe it because of her stepfather’s demeaning rants.
When Seth McGreave first came into Dana Stone’s life when she was 10 years old, he had been a pretty decent guy. But then something happened. Dana turned 12 and finally hit puberty. She began to grow progressively more beautiful over the next 4 years. Seth also began to grow progressively meaner over those 4 short years, especially towards Dana. He wasn’t physically abusive to her, at least that’s what it would look like to an outsider. He would simply do things, like step on her toes with his steel toe work boots on or slam a door on her fingers, which would seem like a pure accident. But he was emotionally and mentally abusive to young Dana. You see, Seth McGreave would constantly tell Dana that she was in fact not beautiful, that she was actually really ugly and that she was nothing more than a simple-minded girl who no one would ever like or even love. Of course, he would do all this behind his wife, Dana’s mother’s back. Athena Stone-McGreave didn’t know of the war that was going on between her daughter and her husband. Dana fought back against Seth with her words, but inside she was hurting bad and she slowly began to believe the things Seth said.
     Because of Seth’s harsh words, Dana constantly hides her natural beauty behind dark and heavy makeup. She hides the beauty of her sparkling blue eyes by ringing them with heavy black kohl eyeliner, turning her eyes grey. She wears lipstick red enough to stain her lips the color of blood. Her hair is always long and in her face and her body always shrouded by black clothing and jewelry, as well as chains. She tries her hardest to go unnoticed and blend into the shadows at school. At home, she stays cooped up in her room day and night. She only comes out to eat, talk to her mom, use the restroom, or go to school. She has no friends. She is a loner by definition.
     One day, however, someone does notice Dana at school finally. His name is Esai Randall. He is a freshman at the high school. He is tall, with long shoulder- length dark brown hair, gorgeous twinkling brown eyes, and tan skin. He saw Dana trudging along to school, carrying her guitar as usual, wearing her usual black clothing. Today, she has on knee-high female combat boots, black fishnet stockings, a black and red Tripp skirt, and a black corset-style spaghetti strap shirt. Over this outfit, she has on a black jacket that is a couple sizes too big for her. Black shades hide her eyes from the sun.
     Suddenly, Dana’s guitar case falls open and out pops her red and black acoustic guitar and all of her sheet music. Dana falls to the ground and begins scrambling to get all of her music before the wind does. After a couple of minutes, she sits back on her heels and begins to cry in frustration and pain. She clutches her side and winces as the pain races throughout her torso; her stepfather had slammed the door on her while she was entering the house the night before and had ended up bruising her ribcage.
     A tap on her shoulder startles her and she jumps with a gasp. Esai reaches down and hands her the rest of her sheet music, the very music that she had feared the wind had gotten.
     Removing her shades, Dana wipes away her tears and looks down at the ground as she accepts the papers from Esai.
     “Thank you,” she murmurs as she places the papers and guitar gingerly back into the case.
     “No problem,” Esai says. Then, “You’re Dana…right?”
     Dana, startled, looks up sharply at Esai and replies, “Maybe. Who wants to know?”
     Esai raises his arms and replies, “Hey, I’m just the guy who saw a beautiful girl in trouble and came over to help her out.”
     Dana sighs and says, “Sorry. It’s just, I’m not used to people knowing who I am. I try to avoid that.”
     “Well, I would like to know you more. I have like half of my classes with you and you always sit in the back and look so depressed. I’d like to help, if I can.” Esai offers Dana a hand and she takes it, reluctantly, and lets him pull her to her feet.
     As they start waling to school again, this time together, Dana mutters, “I’m not beautiful.”
     “Hm?” Esai says. “What was that?”
     “I’m not beautiful,” Dana says again. “I never was. And I never will be.”
     Esai grabs her arm and stops walking, pulling Dana around to face him. Looking into her eyes, he replies,         “Yes. You are beautiful. Never say that you’re not. Cuz you’re wrong. You are absolutely gorgeous.” It is at this point that Esai truly falls in love with Dana. Looking into her beautiful big blue eyes, he feels entranced and becomes lost in her eyes.
     Another tear falls from Dana’s eye and slides down her cheek as she shakes her head and whispers hoarsely, “No. I’m really not. I am a monster.”
     Shaking his own head, Esai says, “No.” Leaning in, he lightly presses his lips to Dana’s. It is the sweetest thing that Dana has ever tasted and her heart skips a beat in a swell of emotions.
     As Esai pulls away, he mutters softly, “I like you…a lot…maybe even love you. Please don’t turn me down. And please, let me show you that you ARE beautiful. Please, will you be mine?”
     Without thinking, Dana nods her head and breathes, “Yes.”
     Smiling from ear to ear, Esai takes Dana’s hand in his and begins walking again.
     At school, there’s a big hullaballoo about the new Emo couple. Whispers surround them as they walk around the school together, hands clasped together, oblivious to everyone else.
     Dana is on Cloud Nine the whole school day.
     But then she gets home and everything crashes down to earth again. She tells her mom about her new boyfriend, unaware that her stepfather is just around the corner, listening to every word she says. Seth charges out from around the corner and towards Dana with murder in his drunkard’s bloodshot eyes. He begins to beat and pummel on her, bruising her body.
     By the next day, the town has heard of Dana’s misfortune and all believe her to be dead.
     That evening, Esai, depressed and broken hearted by the news of his love’s death, goes to the school yard and drives a knife into his heart, literally breaking it in half.
     Dana, having left her house to get away and come to the school yard to think, emerges from the bushes then at that moment and sees the corpse of her dead love. She races over to him and holds him in her arms, crying hysterically over his dead body. Her eyeliner runs down her face in streams. She feels completely in the dark now that her only light is gone, completely and totally devoid of life now that her only life boat has died. She cannot go on anymore now that she has lost the only thing that truly mattered in her life, the only person who truly loved and understood her. Then she sees the knife, and she knows what she must do.
     Taking the knife out of her lover’s chest, Dana drags the razor sharp blade down her forearms and across her wrists and watches as the blood pumps out. She then lies down next to Esai, puts his limp arms around her, and dies moments later.
     Within minutes, Dana awakens to a bright light. She is in a green meadow, wearing a white cotton dress. Esai stands across the clearing with his back to her. As she calls out and rushes up to him, he turns around and smiles. She jumps up into his waiting arms and kisses him passionately as he spins around with her. Finally, they are truly together forever. Nothing can ever separate them or their love. It is forever eternal. They are now together in their Dark Love for the rest of all Time.

The Beautifully Dark End

I Love You, Always and Forever

I Love You, Always and Forever

9/17/10

     As soon as the car pulls up to the building, you hop out and jump into Neo’s welcoming arms. You go to kiss him, but he whispers, “Don’t. The facilitators are all mega Christians. I could get in a lot of trouble.” You heed his wish and ascend the stairs to his room, walking side by side. The second the door closes, he’s kissing you and caressing your face, your neck, your torso. The second his lips meet yours, all your earlier fears of today, of what might happen, are obliterated. His tongue plays with yours and tickles your mouth. You instantly become an epicure and forget about boundaries. You lean back against a bombastically-colored couch and relax your whole body. Neo’s lips suddenly move down as he begins to gently kiss your neck and chest. His tongue darts out as it playfully tickles your neck and leaves a damp trail, going from your chin to a little below your collarbone. His tongue traces circles along your shoulder and as he reaches the joint where your shoulder and neck meet, he lightly begins nibbling at your throat. He trails over and bites your shoulder and works his way over and up, from your shoulder, then on up to your neck.
     You feel his muscular chest straining at his black spandex tee shirt. Your bodies clasp together and you can’t help thinking, Bliss. Peaceful bliss at last. His hands stroking your hips, your stomach, your neck. His lips pressed hard against yours. You sigh with contentment, causing him to pull away and look at you questioningly.
     “I’m happiest when I’m with you. All my troubles always seem to go away when you’re with me,” you reply.
     He smiles warmly, and then resumes kissing you more passionately then before. Suddenly, before you know it, it’s 6:00, and you have to go home. Your friend comes to pick you up as you give Neo one last passionate kiss before climbing into the passenger seat. Janeen gives you a cryptic smile and raises her eyebrows.
     “What?” you inquire with a smile.
     “Oh, nothing,” is her reply. You don’t worry. All you can think about is Neo’s soft lips on yours, his tongue caressing yours, and his hot sweet breath on your skin. You're in Heaven.

Journal Entries

Journal Entries

9/24/10

     As a chronicler records historical events, I write down in detail all that has occurred in the last couple hours in my trusty journal. I end up writing several pages full and unfortunately I have to turn it into my therapist, so I just create a short summary:
     “My boyfriend had asked me to meet him. He was only visiting for the weekend and we both miss each other tremendously, so I quickly finished my chores and left early so I could get there in a timely manner. Suddenly, a shadow was cast about me from behind. I turned around and there was a man dressed completely in back. His back was to the sun and he was so tall, I couldn’t really see his face. Before I could react, he had usurped me and dragged me into an abandoned van sitting idly by the curb. I tried to scream, but he just clamped a hand tightly over my mouth with a look of apathy on his shadowy face.
     For about an hour, he tried repeatedly to assault me, but my struggles made it impossible. I felt my pocket vibrate at the same time as when he got off and placed a phone to his ear, turning his back on my. Quickly, I got out my cell phone and noticed the text was from David. It said, ‘Where r u?’ I rapidly responded ‘trapped in a van with a psycho. Come HELP!!!’ The man turned around just as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. He tried one more time to assault me, but was pushed away by me and pulled away by my boyfriend with equal force and simultaneously. Within minutes, the cops showed up to find my honey kicking the crap out of the man. They arrested the psycho and my honey came over to me and held me close, kissing and caressing me sweetly, gently. I’m sure that if we ever really tie the knot, our relationship will be fecund and blissful. ^_^ *lovey dovey eyes* I love my baby!”
     And so, that was what the last couple of hours have been like!

Just Another Day in Paradise

Just Another Day in Paradise

11/19/10

     “Hey! Sophomore!”
     Branden shouts from behind Lana. She turns around, ready for his disparaging remarks. He calls her pathetic, useless, a sorry excuse for an inferior human. He’s so sophomoric in nature. Though it’s only what could be expected from a super senior who’s been in high school for seven years instead of just four.
     Tears of anger begin to stream down her cheeks as Branden begins to make insults about the man she loves. His eyes harden and become extremely threatening as he looks at someone behind Lana.
     “What do you want, scum?” he says crudely.
     Suddenly a hand rests on Lana’s shoulder as an arms wraps around her waist. “I want you to leave my girl alone,” Damien says from his place behind Lana. His voice is chock full of flout.
     “I’m just teaching the child a lesson,” Branden says harshly. “Lola here was rude to me. Now she needs to pay the price.” He purposely makes a misnomer of Lana’s name.
     Damien tells him to leave and makes a quiet threat. Branden’s face goes white as he runs off, shooting evil glares at Damien over his shoulder as he goes. Damien asks Lana if she’s alright.
     She says yeah and adds, “He’s just an archetype of what I’ll always deal with.”
     He lightly presses his lips to hers, trailing his hands over her stomach and up and down her back.
     She breathes a soft “Thank you” before they both head off to an empty classroom so they can at least have a few minutes to themselves. They never like it when people watch them make out. Sweet, right?

The Purple Butterfly

The Purple Butterfly

March 15, 2011
6:30 p.m.
     She sits at her desk, hunched over her Algebra book, tears pouring from her eyes and splashing on the book, creating small puddles on the worn pages. She sobs over and over again, “Why? What’d I do? I’m such a monster!”
     She feels like nobody is left in the world to understand her, not now that her love has left her.
She takes a deep breath and looks around the room. Her eyes fall on the jacket she got from Damon Kold, her ex-boyfriend. The memories start to flood back as her eyes fill once again with tears. She remembers their anniversary just a few months ago, going to the Cheesecake Factory together followed by a beautiful moonlit walk down 4th avenue and seeing all the Christmas lights in the shop windows. She remembers his loving, warm embrace and his soft kisses. She begins to sob again as she remembers him taking her to the Dairy Queen and them sitting outside at one of those red tables with the big umbrellas, sharing an Oreo Brownie Earthquake and laughing together. She watches the memory helplessly as she sees Damon dip his finger in the vanilla ice cream and dot her nose with it. She remembers how she giggled as his warm tongue playfully licked the cold treat off of her nose.
     She sees them walking back to the car, hand in hand, arms swinging loosely, laughing and kissing, happy as can be. Suddenly, she is jarred from her mental memory bonds as her mother opens the door and bursts into the room, looking wildly around the room.
   “What have you been doing? I’ve been calling you for half an hour!” her mom says. Then, seeing her daughter’s tearstained face, Mrs. Prentice murmurs, “Honey? Sweetie, what’s wrong? What happened?”
     Olivia looks up at her mother and mutters, “Damon broke up with me today at school.”
     “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Prentice coos softly, kneeling down and hugging her daughter. “I know you loved him very much.”
     Pushing her mother away, Olivia says, “Loved?? Mom, I STILL love him. What choice do I have? He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. He’s my everything and he completed me. You just watch. He’ll be back. I just know it.”
     Olivia bursts into tears again, knowing that there’s not guarantee that her beloved Damon will ever come back to her. She bows her head and her black hair covers her face as she folds over her legs in her chair and sobs brokenly. Her mom, not knowing what else to do, rubs Olivia’s back and then rises to her feet.
     “I’ll get you a nice cup of mocha coffee and some chocolate chip cookies. Does that sound good to you sweetie?”
     “It doesn’t matter. It won’t bring my happiness back,” Olivia murmurs through her tears.
    The second her mother leaves the room, Olivia stands to her feet and shuts the door, locking it and then proceeding to throw a punch at the wooden wall and then toss herself on her bed, crying now in both internal and external agony. Her mother hears the loud THUMP as Olivia’s fist meets the wall.
     “Olivia? What happened? Olivia? Open this door this minute,” Mrs. Prentice says as she knocks on the locked door.
     “Just please go away,” Olivia moans. “I just want to be alone right now.”
     There’s a moment’s silence. Then the soft pitter patter of her mother walking away.
     Olivia sighs with this chance to get some time to be alone and think over what all has happened today.
    Looking at Damon’s jacket, Olivia remembers him approaching her at lunch earlier that day at school. She remembers him looking her in the eyes and telling her point blank that
     “I can’t be with you at the moment Olivia. I think we need to take a small break. I need some time to get my act together and get better. To be happier. I just need some time. Please give me that and don’t fight me on this this time. I promise I will come back for you when I’m better. When I feel ready.” He bent down and kissed her sweetly one last time, wiping away her tears, and whispering against her cheek, “I still love you. I will always love you, Olivia Nicole Prentice. I just need to get my head on straight so I can make you happy again like it was in the beginning. I’m sorry. I love you.”
     Then, without looking back, he’d turned and walked away quickly. But anyone who’d known Damon as long and as well as Olivia did could tell that he had been walking quickly so he could go somewhere to cry alone. His back had been hunched over and his stride was uneven. Almost like he was stumbling a bit. He was probably about as heartbroken by his decision as Olivia was.
     As Olivia remembers this, she snatches Damon’s jacket off of the chair by her bed and curls up with it in her arms, sobbing heavily into its soft fabric. Within minutes, she falls asleep like this, still curled up around the jacket, tears soaking her pale face.

March 16, 2011
6:15 a.m.
     BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
     Olivia awakens to the sound of her alarm clock blaring. She stretches and untangles herself from her blankets, which somehow wrapped themselves about her in the middle of the night. She’s still gripping Damon’s jacket. Her legs feel stiff and her head hurts. Her eyes feel dry and her throat hurts from all the crying she did the night before. Groggily, she rises to her feet and changes out of her wrinkled clothes into some clean clothes. Remembering that she no longer has anything to look forward to at school, Olivia pays no attention as to how she’s dressing. She pulls on a pair of worn and torn up jeans and a black muscle shirt. She brushes her hair, but does nothing with it. The only thing she does with her appearance is her makeup. But even that is dingy. She throws on some dark red lipstick and applies her black eyeliner thickly around her eyes. Then, as an afterthought, she draws gothic tears under her right eye, going from her eye down her cheek.
     Looking at herself in the mirror, she shrugs and sighs, knowing she looks like shit. But she can’t help it. As long as she’s depressed, she’s going to remain looking like shit.
     Suddenly, her mom calls from down the hall.
    “Yeah mom?” Olivia calls back, shutting off her light as she leaves her room. Walking down the hall, the squeaks of the old floorboards under her feet sound extremely loud and reverberating in her aching head.
     Holding her hand to the side of her head and squinting against the bright light as she steps into the kitchen, Olivia almost groans, “Hey mom. What is it?”
     “Oh honey. I was just calling you to let you know that I made you some breakfast,” Angelica Prentice says, smiling to her disheveled daughter.
     The steam rising off of the warm cinnamon rolls wafts the tantalizing smell of cinnamon and frosting under Olivia’s nose. Her mouth waters and her stomach grumbles with anticipation. But she turns down the food. She has no desire to eat at the present moment.
     Instead, she turns away, says to her mom without looking at her, “Thanks mom. That’s really sweet of you. But I’m just not really hungry right now. I’m sorry.” She then trudges back to her room to finish getting ready for school.
     Five minutes later, Olivia’s walking out the creaky front door, Damon’s guitar in hand and backpack on shoulder. She kisses her mom on the cheek and then walks out onto the cold front stoop. Alone for the first time in a long while, Olivia walks the thirty minute walk to school. Her ear buds are in and her music is blasting. Ten minutes pass with no occurrence. Then, suddenly, a flutter of bright purple on the ground catches her eye. Looking down, she sees a red spotted purple butterfly lying on the concrete, fluttering helplessly on the ground, one wing appearing to be broken.
     “Oh you poor thing. Here, let me help you,” Olivia coos softly, stopping and gently scooping up the injured butterfly. Dropping to her knees, she rummages through her backpack with one hand and pulls out a small plastic bag. Poking a few small holes in it with the tip of her pocket knife, she gently lowers the butterfly into the baggie and closes the top, holding the bag in her hand.
     She continues walking to school, sneaking peeks at the butterfly in her right hand, amazed at her find. Arriving at school 10 minutes later, Olivia goes straight to her Forensics teacher. She knocks on the door and waits patiently as Ms. Freeman opens the locked door.
     “Well hello there Olivia. What can I do for you?” Ms. Freeman asks.
     “Do you have anything to put a living specimen in?” Olivia replies.
     “Why yes I do. I have plenty of jars and some cheesecloth that can be put over the top to keep the specimen inside the jar without killing it. May I ask what you need it for?”
     Olivia holds up the injured butterfly and says softly as Ms. Freeman gasps and takes the butterfly gingerly in her own hands, “I found it on my way to school. Its wing is hurt and I was hoping to take it hope and help mend it.”
     “This is amazing Olivia,” Ms. Freeman remarks. “I will most certainly help you with this beauty.”
     “Thank you,” Olivia says happily.
     Ms. Freeman goes to her glass cabinets and pulls out a small jar and some cheesecloth. Gently, she eases the butterfly into the jar after removing it from the bag and uses a rubber band to hold the cheesecloth in place over the top of the jar.
     “Here you go,” Ms. Freeman says, handing the jar to Olivia.
     Olivia looks at the jar and asks softly, “Is it alright if I keep her in here and pick her up after school?”
    Ms. Freeman looks at Olivia for a second and then says, “Of course you can. I have no problem with that.” She gives Olivia a warm smile.
     Olivia gives Ms. Freeman a small smile back and then says, “Thank you. I’ll make sure to come straight here after 5th period.”
     “Alright dear. See you then.” Ms. Freeman gives Olivia another small smile.
     Olivia tells her to have a nice day and walks back out of the room, back into the hallway.
     All during 1st, 3rd, and 5th period, the only thing on Olivia’s mind is the strange finding of the red spotted purple butterfly. She can’t concentrate on her quadratic formula lesson in algebra 2, can’t keep her balance in yoga. Thankfully, her last period of the day is creative writing and she doesn’t have to do anything in that class. So she has all the time in that class to sit there and space out, her thoughts a mile away.
     Suddenly, the bell for lunch rings. Olivia does not feel up for going to lunch today, so she just gets up and goes straight to Ms. Freeman’s classroom to pick up her butterfly. Ms. Freeman is waiting outside of her room for Olivia, already holding the jarred butterfly in her hands. Olivia takes the butterfly and quietly thanks the teacher. Quickly, she turns around and walks back down the hall and out the doors to the courtyard. She breathes in the fresh air and feels the warm sunlight on her face. She breathes deeply and sighs as the cool breezy air rushes in and fills her lungs. Suddenly, she hears a familiar and heartbreaking voice call her name from across the courtyard. Terrified, eyes already filling with tears, Olivia looks up and sees Damon striding over to her quickly. Quickly, she turns to her left and begins to speed walk to the gates that open up to freedom. She’s practically running when someone suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her back. Looking up into the gorgeous face of her ex lover, Olivia forces herself not to cry as Damon opens his mouth to speak.
     “Don’t even try telling me that you’re sorry,” Olivia says crudely, before Damon even has a chance to get a single syllable out. “You left me high and dry and didn’t even look back as you left me there to cry alone. I’m not going to be hurt again by you telling me that you’re sorry, just to up and leave again.”
     “Olivia-” Damon begins to say. But Olivia cuts him off again.
     “No! You hurt me more than you have ever hurt me in any of our fights, Damon! I don’t think you realize how much you killed me inside.”
     “I know, but I want to tell you that-” he begins again.
     “No! I don’t want to hear it! It’s probably just something to make me hurt even more!” Olivia wrenches her arm free of Damon’s grip and shouts at him, “I hate you after what you did to me!” Then she whirls around and races to the open gate, jarred butterfly in hand. Reaching the gates, out of breath, Olivia stops and drops to her hands and knees, tears streaming from her eyes, breath coming in short gasps. She sobs about what she just did, how she just treated Damon, what Damon did to hurt her so much, but most of all, she sobs at the thought of what she just screamed at the man whom she loves. She sobs at the fact that she just told the man that she loves that she hated him.
     Damon walks by, head down, and says softly, almost whispers, “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know now that it was the wrong thing to do and apparently I’ve lost you for good, since you apparently hate me now. I’m sorry.” His voice is rough and husky. Olivia can tell without looking at him that tears are filling his own eyes.
     As Damon passes by her, Olivia holds her stomach, as though hoping to hold herself together, and folds over so her forehead touches the concrete sidewalk, tears gushing from her eyes like a broken hose set on full blast. She sits like this for several minutes, just sobbing her eyes out. She’s so glad that most of the students have a 7th period. Otherwise, she’d be having a lot of people asking her questions at the moment.
     Ten minutes pass and Olivia finally finds the composure she needs to be able to walk home. Taking a deep breath, she rises to her feet and picks up her butterfly. Slowly, she begins the twenty minute walk home. As she arrives at the house, she quietly opens the front door and tiptoes to her room at the other end of the house. Silently closing her bedroom door behind her, Olivia drops her backpack on the floor at the end of her bed and plops onto the soft mattress of the queen size bed, looking intently at the butterfly in the glass jar that she holds in her hands.
     Interest peaked, she hops off the bed and goes to her laptop on the dresser across from her bed, right in front of the window. Logging on, she searches “red spotted purple butterfly” and begins to discover things about the critter. She’s shocked that she found the butterfly where she did, considering it’s a woodlands creature. Its habitat is mostly woodlands and forest edges. It’s a mimic of the poisonous Pipevine Swallowtail. Also, she discovers that after it becomes an adult, it only lives for four to five days. This last fact saddens her even more than she’s already saddened. But then she gets an idea.
     Going back to the butterfly, she turns the jar around so she can get a better look at the wings of the butterfly. The left wing is definitely injured. Going back online, she searches ways to help the butterfly heal. After a few minutes, she finds a remedy. The site tells her to put the butterfly in a glass and put it in the fridge for 10 minutes at the maximum because that will naturally calm the butterfly down. It then says to dim the lights or work in the evening so the butterfly is still calm. Scanning through all the other material, Olivia realizes that all you basically have to do is hold down the butterfly with tweezers and fix the wing with adhesive.
     One hour later, the butterfly sits in its jar, perfectly content in its slumber as the adhesive on its wing dries. The process was long and hard but in the end, Olivia achieved her goal of healing the butterfly. A couple days pass and the butterfly seems ready to fly off again. Olivia, beaming and proud at her achievement, takes the butterfly outside and opens the jar up, gently putting her hand inside and letting the butterfly climb on her extended finger. Gently, Olivia places the newly healed butterfly onto a rose bush leaf and watches in wonder as it walks a little and then takes flight. She watches the majestic creature fly up into the sky, the sun shining through its glittering wings. A tear of hope and happiness comes to Olivia’s eye as she stands there outside, watching this butterfly’s dance of thanks. Suddenly, she knows just what she needs to do.
     “Fly away child of the Goddess. Fly away and be beautiful,” Olivia whispers softly.
     The next day, Olivia goes through school, keeping an eye out for Damon the whole. The bell signaling the end of 5th period rings and she goes to lunch. 35 minutes later, she is going through the 300 building and heading to the double doors to go outside. Everyone else is either in class or leaving to go home. And yet, looking out of the windows in the doors, Olivia can see a pair of black clad legs sticking out of the stairwell leading up to the second floor. Stepping out into the bright sunlight, Olivia begins walking out to the gates opening onto the front lawn. Suddenly, she stops as she hears someone sobbing her name. She turns to her left and sees the owner of the black clad legs, her lover Damon, sitting on the steps, sobbing into his open palms. Olivia goes over to him and sits beside him on the steps. She puts an arm around his shaking shoulders and lays her head on his shoulder.
     He looks up, surprised, and whispers, face all tear stained, “Olivia?”
     “Yeah baby?” Olivia says softly, stroking away Damon’s tears with her thumb.
     “You-you came back? I-I-I thought you hated me?” Damon murmurs.
    “I could never hate you. I love you too much to ever hate you. Don’t you remember me telling you that, Angel Baby?” Olivia coos, using her fingers to lightly brush Damon’s long black hair out of his eyes.
     “Olivia, I’m so sorry for what I told you before. I’m sorry for ever leaving you. I thought it would be for the best but I was wrong. It only made me feel worse. Can you ever forgive me?” Damon suddenly says earnestly, practically begging for her to come back.
     Olivia pauses for a dramatic moment, and then leans in close to Damon so that their lips are only an inch apart, and she murmurs, “Of course I forgive you silly. I love you and that will never change.”
     “I-I love you too,” Damon whispers.
     “Sh,” Olivia says softly, putting a finger to Damon’s lips. “I know you do. Believe me, baby, I know you do.”
    Olivia then proceeds to softly press her lips to Damon’s as she laces her fingers between his and holds his hand tightly, reassuringly. These two found hope in their relationship and found that love of the most potent kind can and will be found in places if you only look hard enough.

School Day Miracles

School Day Miracles

11/5/10

     She comes to school, thinking it’s just going to be another depressing day. Suddenly, Jace texts her: I’m here.
     He’s at her school. She can’t wait for class to end, so she can see him. Her depression disappears down her emotional brae, as happiness and joy take its place. Class ends, she heads out.
     There Jace is. Hands in his pockets, leaning against the railing of the stairs. His arms open wide as she runs to him. He holds her tight, gently trailing his loving hands over her body. He seems to almost be studying her curves as a herbologist studies botany. The cacophony of all the students around her fades and disappears as his soft lips touch hers.
     He pulls her close and gently kisses her lips, her cheek, her neck. His hands lightly slide down her back, over her stomach.
     Before she knows it, lunch is over and she has to head to class again.
     “See you after school?” she whispers against his neck.
     He chuckles. “If that’s what you want.”
     As she says goodbye, she murmurs jokingly, “Don’t go being a braggart now, you hear?”
     He just laughs and pulls her close, kissing her sweetly. “Lord, I love you,” he whispers lovingly.
     She just smiles and whispers back, “Ditto.” As she heads back to class, his smell lingers around her. Thoughts of him race through her head at top speed and the memory of his sweet kiss resonates in her mind.
     She can’t wait to see him after school.

Utopia

Utopia

10/1/10

     A utopian society. Hmmm… That’s exactly what the marsupial had in his head. He interacted with everyone in his mental utopia, was accepted in the utopia, practically lived in this imaginary utopia in his head. He never wanted to leave his inner Heaven, for in the real world, he was a nobody. He was a proletarian jackalope (and yes they are so real! You don’t have evidence to prove me wrong aside from the word of biased scientists with no imagination. ^_^). He was always told that his way of thinking was wrong and that he was ugly as shit and stupid as fuck. Eventually, when his time came and he lay there sick in bed, he had become so apathetic from the hate of the world, that he no longer felt alive. The shine in his black jackalope eyes was gone, the spring in his hop no longer gave presence. Here he was, dying literally, when for so long he had been technically already dead inside.
     All that changed, though, when he truly did die, at the jackalope age of ninety-two. He awoke in a bright room, too bright and happy feeling to possibly be on earth. He was in Heaven. As he began to hop around and check things out, everyone around him greeted him like they were best buds. The place was so full of love and peace. His happiness and peace was no longer parochial, but unboundaried and free.

Impressum

Texte: Kayla Stiles
Bildmaterialien: http://www.beautifulbodybistro.com/2011/08/09/the-poetry-of-inner-beauty/ ; https://www.pinterest.com/pin/557601997586146108/
Lektorat: Kayla Stiles
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.06.2012

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Widmung:
I dedicate this book to a few people. My mother, Katherine, who's been there for me all my life. I also dedicate this to my family and friends who I consider family (You know who you are!). I love all of you. You are my family, and you've all helped me become who I am today in your own special ways. Thank you.