Sunday, December 26, 2010

[Blank]

It makes me
question my actions.
I wonder if
I’m even right.
Could it be
that I’m not
me?
I’m a leech
who was pitied.

I’ve always prided myself
in being an individual.
I am something unique
and I loved it.
it had never crossed my mind
for me to be
not me.

Maybe it’s time to change.
Hold my hands
by my side when I talk.
Stand still when I
engage in conversation.
Smile only when
I’m exuberant.
Stay calm when
exciting things happen.

Then, I can be
what people want me to be.
I’ll fit in,
calm down,
piss less people off,
quiet myself,
allowing a bit to escape in
poetry.

Sound good to you?

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Me, me, me

You're yelling with
hands on hips
stern eyes
glaring down at
me.
you mean business

how dare I do this.
This terrible thing
that completely offends you,
tears you apart inside
till you're forced to tell me of
you disappointment

how dare I not
    do my laundry.
how dare I not
     finish cleaning my room.
how dare I not
     please your every demand.

Short, sweet, to the point.

Daddy.
Dad.
Father.

An evolution of your name.

From cutesy, little kid
to middle school loving irritation
to cold, uncaring, scared, formality.

Great example you've set here.

Yelling
at me earlier
I stared back at you,
used to the usual
rants.

Every time I mess up
it's a federal case.
But I'm used to it.
I'll just be angry
to myself.

oops.
you've just realized
I'm not a total
screw up.
you yelled and
then
you thought
       saw
       understood.
Apology mixed with
saving yourself.
So maybe this was wrong but you were still right about that other...
blah blah
freaking blah

Do as I say NOT
as I do.
That's your motto apparently.

I have to think before I speak.
I have to control my temper.
I have to always clean after myself.
I have to get the most amazing grades.
I have to be responsible and
                  good
                  nice
                  caring
not you.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Danger is my middle name.

If you were to circle
around and around
hell.
monster.
bite of his head
eat all the rest
repeat.

"Oh hello!
    going to kill me again?
      well get on with it."

bite off his head
eat all the rest
repeat.

forever.
hell.
monster.

 "hello"
shouldn't have been so
greedy.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Day dreams of a hypocritical teen.

I wrote this about two weeks ago. Mark called me a silli siphimiri. Fleh



Flash
laughter
fun
emotions

Flash
zoom in
a girl
crying?

Flash
fading
outside in
crying?

Flash
running
huddled
arms over eyes

Flash
one pair
chasing
catching up

Flash
hugging
drying tears
questions

Flash
tired
wishing
leaning on

Flash
you
you
you.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

How?

My body
doesn't seem to want to
cooperate with me.
Every word you type
sends my hands
to my mouth, curled and spazzing
with little kid joy.
Or spread out,
stretching the muscles,
trying to release the insanity.

Heaven help me
if I happen to be
sitting.
Because my legs,
too, choose not to listen.
backing up
to meet my face,
which is
stretched into an
aching smile

My whole body
shakes with
crazy, giddy
glee.
I feel
like a toddler
on Christmas Day.

How do you do that?
make me feel the way
I haven't for years.
It's as if
you've peeled back all
of the layers of me
just to put your
little comments in
and make me feel
so completely
electrifying
from the inside out.
radiating
bliss.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

District 12

They say you were born
from the ashes.
Serious, no?
Chaos everywhere
chaos
chaos
chaos
chaos
Thrown back
explosion
people
flying across the oil soaked
pavement.
brilliant.
burning.

Then, you.
rising, looming hope
from the burning people
and time...stops

Confused?
I was too

But I say you were born
from the flames.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

My version of "me and you in grade two"

I had watched Hocus Pocus last night with my mom and little sisters as a pre-Halloween treat. I walked back into Mrs. Fletcher's classroom singing bits and pieces of a haunting song Sara Jessica Parker sang to luer the children to their death. I only knew a few words but I sang them over and over again, never tiring of the words. I saw another girl look at me, a weird expression on her face. She came up to me, her big, dark brown hair up in a poofy ponytale, and asked me what I was singing. I told her it was from my favorite Halloween movie, Hocus Pocus. She said she loved that movie too and that song was her favorite. We began singing the song, she knew more of the lyrics but I just hummed along with the parts I didn't know. Later, we exchanged names and laughed at the similarity.
 Haley and Shayli.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

my brain today.

No


but, yes?


Capitalize Everything You Write.


never ever capitalize


RULES rules RuLeS rULeS


but,
no.


do What you Want
make A pattern
do Something pretty Like


nonsense words
garmblejook
amplakie
snoodlebomp


RAnDOm can you raed wrdos lkie tihs?


        Awesome opossum.
maybe


or


not


here I come.


run run run


nun monk jew boy


be fun!
don't m
           e
             l
              t

I are

Look,
another one.
About you.
You don't even know
Thank god you don't know.
It would be a scandal of the ages
told many times before yet not in a book
but in my real life of actuality and tangibility.

S
  O
      ...
         sappy
         cliche
         girly
         joyful

You. Repeat that about
a million times.
Don't get bored.

Writing this I think,
obsessed, you are. But not really,
silly, you are. But only sometimes,
hopeless, you are. But you've always been like that,
Yoda, you are.

Yes, I are.

Would you cry if I failed? I wouldn't.

Woah.
Don't get too involved now.
Don't get too attached now.
No time for that.
B
A
B
A
D
D
F
A
     The other grades fade...
keep them up but
they're not too important.

Who cares about the good?
focus on the bad
fix it
now!
No more learning if
you don't.

Friday
you better be done
Friday
or no more fun
Friday
ew, was that a rhyme?
Friday
No time for that...yet

Oh dear, not this again.

Aug, I don't want to be
that girl.
The one who daydreams
all
freaking
day.

Her poems
centered
around his
                                                                          eyes
                                                                          hair
                                                                          mannerisms
                                                                          voice...
No!
See, that.
Don't do that.
Remember the sad?
or...the rules?
and problems
issues!
dramas
anger?
                                                                         eyes
                                                                         hair
                                                                         mannerisms 
                                                                         voice...
Sigh.
Fine.
forget everything that
ever made you sad.
and
just be happy.

I'm grinning...for real?
for a bit.
Just remember 
it all comes d
                      o
                        w
                           n
in the 
        end.

Then again, it's all up 
to you if it
lands gracefully 
or
crashes

~Here's to hoping~

Friday, December 3, 2010

Rantings of a Lunatic

"Arabella. Elise. Mackenzie. I have recieved you letter and I am not happy. I will be arriving on Friday at 4 pm. Please be presentable and have my favorite food cooking...Bye."


And the message clicked off.


Crap, I thought, It's coming. And, I looked at my kitchen clock, in half an hour.


Why on earth did I write that letter to her? What a stupid freaking thing to do! I knew she'd want to come over the moment she read the first words but I never thought so soon. 


Rushing around my living  room I grabbed all the misc. items that didn't belong there and threw them in my closet.


Probably shouldn't be doing this but I doubt she'll check there.


My purple and brown couch was covered in dirty dishes, candy wrappers, random half-finished drafts, and probably some cushions hidden under there somewhere.


 Geeze, I hadn't seen those cushions since...well since I bought the couch! I think I remember it being stained to begin with so I guess this is a change for the better...in a way. She would kill me if she saw this mess though...


I ran into my kitchen, stepping over my extremely overweight cat and inching around the paper mache project I'd begun about two weeks ago. I'd become bored with the constant glueing and ripping so I let the mass of blues, oranges, and burgandys rest in my kitchen for awhile. Under the sink I discovered some various cleaning supplies that I'd never opended. After digging through the mess of more unclean dishes, unmatched socks, and cereal boxes I finally unearthed the trash bags. Unopened, of couse.


I sprinted back into the living room, "Meeerow!" accidentally stepping on Ignatious's tail, and tripping over my musical DVD collection, and began frantically stuffing the contents of my couch into the open bag. Soon it began to spill over so I grabbed and violently shook open another from the box. Eight trash bags later I discovered my cusions again.


Crap, crap, crappy-crap. I can't dissapoint her, she needs to see that I am a completely sane person. I ran my hands through my hair.


"Rrrrraaach"


The state of my living room was still awful. Compared to my living room, the couch had been a walk in the park. Anything I had ever bought was in this room whether it be together or in bits, it was here. My best bet was to go search for the janitors broom I knew was somewhere over to the left of the mess and push the mess out the back door.


Hair brush...toss. Cat toy...toss. Ethiopian flag...toss. Girl scout badge...toss. Spinny chair...roll.


"This. is. IMPOSSIBLE! I will never get anywhere in life and it's all her fault for doing this to me!" I screamed just as my cat sprinted out from under my hands.


When did he ge- No. That's not my issue right now. I need to find that...


"Broom!" At last, my cat was hiding it from me.


It took a whole twenty minutes to clear all of the junk from my living room but once it was done I felt rather accomplished. Now all I had to do was keep her in the living room and maybe she won't make me move back.


Freeze.


 Was that a knock? On the door? But it's only...four o'clock. Crap. I didn't have time to clean the kitchen or my room or anything else! I know this is going to be the end of me. No more freedom, no more tv, no more fun...


The knocking began again, this time speeding up and gaining volume with each thump. Then the yells started up.


"Arabellaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Open this door right now! I know you're in there."


Finally, I walked over to my door, turned the knob as slowly as possible, and winced as my door squeeked open.


"Hello, mother." 

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

I want

I want a guy...
who will wrap himself in bubble wrap so he can roll around and pop it.
who will call me to say that he found a weird spot on the ceiling and he just had to tell me.
who will sing at the top of his lungs just because.
who will run around at midnight because that's when he has the most energy.
who loves Harry Potter as much as I do.
who will sing with me and not give me a weird look when I burst into song.
I need a guy who can cook so I don't die...
who will constantly break my no touch rules because he knows they're insincere.
I want a lot of things but most of all I want a guy who is
crazy
fun
hilarious
random
loopy
there.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Just Another Teenage Love Story. (CH2)

This is my favorite chapter so far :D




Chapter 2- In which Sam ponders his meeting with Elizabeth.

"Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."
- Douglas Adams

God, she probably thinks I'm an idiot now! Couldn't even form a full sentance around her.

Sam picked up his skate board glumly and began walking back to his house.


It's not like she'll remember me anyway, he thought while kicking a pebble aside. I'm just Sam, and there are a thousand other guys at Mattew Grant High School. She's probably used to geeky guys fawning all over her while she thinks about her equally popular and beautiful boyfriend. I bet she'll be dating Aaron Moxley in no time.


Stupid Aaron.

 Another pebble goes flying, this one hitting a tree and rebounding into the street.


Maybe she doesn't date. She did seem a helluv of a lot nicer than any of the populars at Matthew.

Sam sighed, kicked one last pebble, nodded at the doorman, and walked into (Hotel Name).


He made his way through the familiar lobby, going around the little kids playing tag, high-fiving Norm, his favorite janitor, and jumping into the elevator before Mrs. Leffington could close the doors. Punching in his floor number and Mrs. Leffington's for her as usual Sam nodded and "mmhmmed" at whatever old Leff was saying today. She was a nice old lady who lived with Mr. Leffington on the fifth floor but all she could ever seem to talk about were her precious Geraniums. Finally, the fifth floor bell dings and Sam is alone in the elevator waiting for it to carry him up to level eleven.

Level Six

Her accent was really...really...I can't even think of the word. Just amazing.

Seven

And her hair! Oh, her hair. Such an interesting color that only she could pull off. I could just...what's that word? Caress. Yes, I could caress her hair forever.

Eight

I don't think I have ever felt this way before. It's...strange.

Nine

My mom would laugh at me if I told her what I am thinking right now. Call me "love sick" or something...

Ten

How can I be love sick after just meeting someone? Nah, I just like her. 

Eleven

As if it even matters. Aaron and Elizabeth...can't you just see it?

The doors open to his floor and Sam steps out looking completely repulsed.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I almost feel like I shouldn't post this

My heart beats in my stomach.
I lie on the ground.
Stomach to the floor,
legs, bent at the knees,
up in the air.
Hands typing away,
attempting to cheer
everyone.

It's weird,
not having a happy conversation with you.
You're not the same;
sadness is overtaking your body.
Makes me cry,
knowing you feel even worse than I do
and I can do nothing to change it.

Then, a glimmer.
Maybe.
Almost.
Not made by me.
By a good friend, yes.
A better friend...?
Probably.

I can't help.
I cannot help.
I can't help you or him or any of them.
I can't even help myself.

This isn't trivial stuff anymore.
We're getting into
the serious things
of life
at only fifteen.


Are we even that close?
Could we fall apart?
Probably.

I miss you.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Ariel, insane, squid

My best friend and I were just goofing around, that's all. We had just gone to the beach for spring break and since she had never played the most amazing game ever that you can at the beach (under/over) we were pretty far out in the ocean so I could teach her the rules.
"If a huge wave comes we go under it but if a little skimpy one comes along we just ride over it, k?"
"Why can't we just lay in the sun and get tans?" Ariel whined.
"Because", I said irritated because this was the fifth time she'd asked, "This is fun and you can get a tan while doing it."
"That's what she said"
"Shut up."
We tried playing the game for a little longer but Ariel started to complain about the salt water getting to her eyes or something so we began our treck back to the beach. About half way back Ariel starts to screech and jump about as she had for the past hour we'd been here whenever a fish would swim over her foot or sea weed would get wrapped around her ankle. I shook it off as nothing until she started waving her arm at me and I saw that a squid had wrapped its tenticles around her wrist.
"Oh" I said blandly, not quite sure how to react.
Ariel began running around and swinging her wrist in a wild manor as if hoping to disslodge the bright blue squid.
It didn't work.
Wait...a blue squid? Really? a voice interrupted me.
Yes, a blue squid, now let me finish my story.
*ahem* That's when I began to clearly asses the situation. There was a blue squid wrapped aroud my friend's wrist, that same friend was jumping around in the ocean, screaming like a maniac, and I was simply standing there watching. This was actually a pretty hilarious situation.
That is when I made my biggest mistake. I began to laugh. And not just laugh like a normal person but like someone who has gone insane. Which is what Ariel thought when she managed to get ride of the squid by bitting it's tenticles violently until it let go. Now, judging by what Ariel had just demonstrated I would have said she was the crazy one but as she dragged me back to the shore, still laughing, I could see how people would perceive me as insane.
As soon as my feet touched dry ground my laughing stopped completely. A sudden and almost eerie stop to my hilarity.
"Well, if you stopped laughing then how did you end up  here?"
"Selena, if you want me to finish you need to stop interupting me, okay?"
Anyway...where was I?
"You stopped laughing."
Oh right, ok so I stopped laughing and at first I was confused as to why this was but then I saw it. The squid, the very one that had attached itself to Ariel, was in the sand in front of me, glaring at me. It was also saying something that I couldn't make out at first and then I realized. I realized what terrible words it had for me.
...
Well!
Well what?
What was the squid saying to you?
Oh...do you really want to know it?
Yes!
Fine, fine.
It was mouthing,
"Put me back in the water."
So, I did. I held it underwater for as long as I thought it needed to be held under for. It seemed odd that the squid was thrashing under the water and the body seemed strangly human like but I ignored that for the time being.
And that's how I got here!
So, you drowned a squid?
No, idiot, she drowned her best friend. Weren't you listening? 
What? How?
She imagined the squid and ended up taking her friend to the water and drowning her.
While my inmates talked about my story I simply turned away from them and laughed to myself.
I hadn't drowned my best friend, I had helped the squid live again. It was odd that Ariel dissapeared that day though...

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Common Sense

I don't want what I have.
I don't want what she has.
I don't want what he has.
I want what I had before.
Before it happened
and they all intervened.

It's all a matter of time, really.
time
time
time...

But it's not.
not at all.
It's a matter of my strength
and knowledge
and common sense.


What common sense? 

You know...the stuff I should
could
would
have

I need to give up next time,
just forget about it and say flat out no.

But what if you want to say yes?

I won't want to say yes.
my mind won't say yes
my heart won't...well I won't let it say yes.

No matter what my heart is saying
because
it only leads to
my eventual
loss.

[Title Here]

This one uses woundikins and involves abuse. It is also unfinished so any suggestions would be lovely. I want my reader to be thrown right into the action so no suggestions on that unless they're specific.

I ducked as the plate smashed against the wall behind me.
I screamed, no words, just sound. I cringe at my voice; a stupid sound that had just given my current possition away. Sneaking downstairs is never easy in this house, especially on Friday nights, but I needed to in order to stay safe tonight. I had been cowering in my room, gathering up the courage to walk into the living room and pick up the phone. I needed to call my best friend and ask if I could spend the night without Sam realizing I had left.
A growl emitted from the kitchen that slowly wound it's way around my vocal chords silencing me just as Sam rounded the corner.
"What did you just say?" he roared advancing on me, up in my face within seconds.
His breath reaked of the vodka and beef jerky he had been incessantly consuming for the past hour. I took a step back, not looking in his eyes.. I had intended to sneak out before Sam started to get violent but now it was too late. It was time for plan two, find a good exit and leave before any damage is done. Only problem, whenever Sam gets like this, I can't find my voice. It's as if it goes and hides in the shadowy corner and won't come out until he's left which is rather unhelpful considering that's when I need it the most.
Instead of responding to his question because I found that I couldn't out loud, I simply looked away and shook my head hoping he'd just forget it. No luck.
"You sure as hell did something say, bitch!"
He was drunk enough that his words were starting to get switched around which was always good for me. Now, he'll just get so confused that all he'll do is hit me once before retreating back to the couch.
"Did you hear me?" he bellowed, jerking my arm forward forcing me to come face to face with my hideous fiance.
I nod, unable to think of anything other than,
How did I end up engaged to this drunk, angry, dirty, pig of a man?
Oh, that's right, Selena. My darling best friend had the wonderful idea of having me date a friend of a friend of a friend a year ago.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

First Impressions

I really wish I could see what other people see when they look at me. I know what I look like because I’ve seen myself my whole life but at first glance, what do I appear to be? The first words I speak to a person, do they see all of the things I am? All of the things I’m not? If I could just ask people’s first opinions of me but then that seems a bit conceited. If I could just read their minds. I know a lot of first impressions will be mean. I don’t have the face of a model, I have the face of a pubescent teenager. My glasses show a million different stereotypes. But which one do most people see? The smart but quiet and reserved girl? The one just trying to look hip and cool? Or maybe the occasional person will see them for what they are.

The Library

Sorry, it's not finished.


It was the sound of my great dane barking that woke me up that night. A jarring sound that pierced the silent night like the siren sunlight punctures the darkness at dawn. 
    “Fred!”,  I yelled with feeble half asleep voice, “Be quiet!”
Of course Fred hadn’t learned that command so he simply ran into my room to continue his incessant barking. Groaning, I roll out of bed and walk down stairs with Fred behind me until he almost kills me as he thunders down the stairs ahead of me, obviously more excited than I to be up at 2 am.
    I make my way down the stairs just to see him barking away at the front door while jumping and running into it thinking that somehow that would open it. I sigh, push him out of the way, and humor my insane dog by opening the door.
    In my not totally awake state I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not when I saw what lay behind my front door; a library.
    And not just your usual library, just piles and piles of books, 6 or 7 feet high each.  There were hard back, ancient copies that looked as though they could teach you the secret of dragons right next to floppy children’s stories about the rabbit that learned to share. It seemed like the heaps had a certain organization to them though. The piles directly infront of me were all deep sea blue but as the mounds got further away the colors differed. Green, orange, and purple masses filled the entire area that should have been my front yard. 
    I start to close the door hoping that either I’m dreaming or that the whole mess will be gone in the morning but one particular book catches my eye. Nothing too special about it really just a book but it wasn’t in a pile. Sitting by it’s self looking abandoned and pitiful, I just had to go over and pick it up. Just as my hand touches the book it’s carried high into the air as winds start to pick up from nowhere and carry me up along side the book, taking the shape of a funnel. Frightened by the sudden loss of ground beneath my feet I start to frantically claw at the air as if hoping I could climb it back down until I hear my dog barking away again and I look down just to make sure he’s safe. He was but I sure wasn’t! Looking around I see that I am floating up through hundreds of different libraries. All of them had a door randomly placed within them and every so often a person would walk through one of them with an amazed look on their face. Each library looked the same as the one I had come through but at the same time each was a little bit different; different colors, books, atmosphere...

How to

first.
then. 
finally.
end. 

first
Write write write
madman!
thoughts pour onto the paper
nonsense .

then
Forget.
leave it.
who cares?

Digging at the back of your head
itching the edges of your mind
calling out to you

finally
“edit edit edit!”
so you do

what was I thinking here?

oh that grammatical sense made.
 
end
Here.
What is it?
Just read it!
Why?
Because I want your feedback!
Ok, ok.

This sucks.

Tear it up.

Start again.

Talent

I want that life.
The life with the glamour and the excitement.
I’m not that good
though.
She works,
sweat, tears, blood
works in the place where I only dream to be at.


Not always in a production but always
a big part of the performance.
Importantly 
vitally 
there. 
Like the soft beat 
thump thump
always in the background
keeping them going.
Maybe it’s best to be 
behind the scenes.
Unnoticed

My acting skills are at a low
but I love to act.
What do I do with that?
Spot light harsh on your face
Pounds of make up
hang my head low, out of view.

Weakest part of the show
can’t be true and yet
It is.
Wish it had more 
Of a background.
Wish I had more 
Of a talent.

Run, away

What if they were?
Or if I wasn’t...
if he isn’t...
if if if
I feel nothing like that for them so why should they feel anything for me?
conceited, conceited, conceited
Stop it.
Dumb little girl, thinking your absurd thoughts that are never nice or good or you.
but they are, oh they are.
Everyone sees the lovely, perfect, funny you and that’s what they expect.

Don’t get angry silly child, it’s an ugly emotion for you
Don’t get stressed silly child, everything should come easy for you
Don’t be human silly child, human emotions don’t belong to you


You should be crazy, above it all, alien
No sorrow, no fear, nothing but fun and giggles
comments that make everyone laugh.
that’s what you do, stick to it.
Write your private stories,
the ones with anger and fear,
privately.
Let your emotions bleed onto you paper so
your lovely
perfect
funny
self can stay on the outside.

Masks of many shapes and sizes
each one some form of good feelings
“I love my life”
“It gets better after this, is that even possible?”
stupid giggle
Life can’t get better
It can get worse.

Her

We reside close to her
both known her for many years

She is here when the soldiers came
flowing and quite imaginary
made of fog
we shudder
eyes playing tricks, silly us 
little children
wishing the car to drive faster
past her
“sorry” we whisper.

Singing Dixie Chicks
at the top of our lungs 
to her.
She listens and we laugh

I see her and I know
I’m close to the house.