A warm ray of light on the skin

A fresh morning chill

A floating kiss from the ruby lips

A word of love from the depth of heart

Run, my heart, run fast

You can’t stop, rest in arms

Stopping is for the brave ones

You trembling bundle of timid love

I was washed out on the shore

In a dress embroidered by a sea foam

I was a newborn pushed out

Of an old womb, knowing

Nothing about the world beyond

Morphine, novocaine
Anything to ease the pain
This suffering is all too real
Compared to what I used to feel
Yellow teeth and holes in jaws
Along with many other flaws
Are surely what’s to follow next
In this horrid tangled mess
Of long addictions never overcome
Soon I’ll wake to the ventilator’s hum

This is a story of a man who I barely knew but was the one who taught me what happiness truly was.  His name was Jim Reising, he wasn’t the brightest man, but he had a heck of a personality.  He was 5 feet 3 inches when I met him.  Also, he had short gray hair parted to the right.  Always wearing his brown leather jacket, which had “We Are Who We Are”, stitched on the back with tan cursive letters.  Wearing his beige cargo pants and his black dress shoes.

It all started one afternoon, when Jim was sitting on his porch in his squeaky wooden rocking chair.  He was reading his Sunday paper, like he always does, when he noticed a troubled little boy walking along the side of the road kicking a can around.  Curiously, he called out to the boy wondering what was bothering him.  At first, this boy was startled and panicking and not knowing whether to run away or not.  This boy slowly moved closer to respond.  Jim asked this boy what was bothering him and wanted to know if he could help.  At first, the boy refused to tell Jim what was wrong and left.  The next week, the boy came up to Jim and said that he was confused and was constantly getting bullied at school.  He told Jim his plan on how he was going to deal with this.  Revenge was running through his mind and said that was the only thing that would make him happy.  Seeing all those boys who bullied him suffer was what he that the cure was.  That boy thought the suffering of others was happiness.

its not like i didn’t try…I really did, There is only so much i can give people and to be honest i gave you more than your fair share…but you took that for granted, I just can’t give you anymore chances, I can only forgive you and move on, Knowing i forgave it all just isn’t good enough but then again, neither was what we went through.

Moon

The biggest treat for me

When I was so much younger,

Was to lie in the moonbeam

That oozed through my bedroom window

And bounced and rested on my bed for the night.

Lying in that moonbeam felt secure…warm…

Birthday cake and baseball glove comfort

I reveled in this warmth.

Moonbeams today

Are cold…

Music discs filled the shelves, causing Elli J. McClaine’s left hand to twitch. She held it still at the wrist with her right hand, looking away from the discs with purpose. She had promised Keifer. She couldn’t give in to her temptation. She turned toward th next shelf and froze.  Nearly two hundred dollars worth of makeup littered the little hooks in the walls, and her left eye winked involutarily. Free prospects were scattered before her, ripe for the taking… then, again reminded of her promise, Elli sighed and looked away.

“Good job, Elli. You passed the test,” said a tall, open-faced man who was standing at the end of the isle of merchandise. Elli looked at him, eyes wide with wonderment.

“John!” she exclaimed, shaking her head with horror. She straightened and glanced around for an exit. ”I… I thought you were dead.” Elli’s hand began to shake again as she spotted the dark glint of a gun underneath the man’s dark leather jacket. She crouched to run.

“Going somewhere, Ells? I think not.” He laughed, and snapped his fingers. Two men suddenly appeared at the previously open end of the isle. John smoothed his bright blonde hair back, seeming suave and graceful as he did so. “You know,” He said, looking into Elli’s eyes, “I really did love you toward the middle of all of this.” Slowly, he reached inside his jacket and slid the gun from the belt of his levi’s.

I hear voices, they reach for me, they are calling me,

and yet as soon as I turn to them, they’re gone…

The sun is so bright it hurts my eyes,

the moon is so pale it gives me chills.

There’s a layer of leaves beneath me,

a dark meadow lies ahead.

The sky is pitch black,

a shadow walks by my side

And I can hear them again,

whispering, singing, calling me…

The shadow slowly moves forward,

3 years ago, I lay comfortably on the roots of a small oak tree a mile away from my neighborhood. Resting on the tree, my most prized possession lay in my hands. I was reading my favorite book in the entire universe, The Notebook. As I turned the page, a breeze whispered in my ears, tickled my nose, and  kissed my lips. Fall was near. The trees had already begun to transform their pigments, hence changing the course of the seasons. I took a calm breath in and out. The strong aroma of pine and honeysuckle invaded my system. I glanced around, admiring the beauty of nature. The trees were swaying in union, the skies gleamed a shade of baby blue, mountains peeked from long distances, and crows chirped from above. After absorbing in the breath-taking view, I drew my attention back to my book. I’d been coming here every day for the past two weeks after school. I had discovered this place while I was bike riding near my house. I’d taken a route in the opposite direction of my home that led to this private trail. When I had reached this destination, it was isolated and quiet, as it always has been the times I’ve been here. I loved this place; it was my safe haven and peaceful hideout whenever I wanted to be alone. The depths of my stomach always twist and turn with anticipation of my arrival to these sacred woods every time I visit. I grasped my book a little tighter, realizing I had been imagining again. I tend to day dream a lot, forgetting about where I am and who I’m with. That is one of my hugest flaws. Nevertheless, I continued to read my book in awe. The winds have died by now, and I check the time. 6:39. Swish, swish. I glance toward the dark, remote trees in the distance, my eyes glued.  A shadow scattered behind the trees. Trying to remain calm, I returned to my reading. Swish, swish. I stood locked in my position. I wondered aloud what or whom the noise came from. No, not the breeze, nor the crows. I told myself that it was just a dear or a rabbit, even. But then I heard it. Footsteps. Running. My book dropped quickly from my small hands to the hard ground. My heartbeat quickened. I started to stand up, gathering my book and putting in into my hand-made shoulder bag.  Swish, swish. I turned around quickly. I could make out a dark figure in the vast part of the woods. Still running. In my direction. I started to panic, breathing in large breaths. I started to run in the opposite direction from the stranger. As I paced, I began to slow down to look behind me. He was right behind me. I ran faster. But not fast enough. As he caught up, he grabbed my arm and my bag dropped to the ground.