collection of pieces

~monsters~
(just a random poem)

wrap me round your finger
drag me through the dirt
make me cringe and bleed out tears
and leave me limp upon the earth
the clouds are heavy
menacing monsters in the sky
the rain falls down and soaks my soul
and burns from inside out
the fire consumes my body
as the flames laugh and dance around
while the wind takes up my ashes
and spreads them 'cross the ground
now i'm set among the stars
a goddess on the moon
but don't think i will forget you dear
they'll be coming for you soon

~light and dark~
(yet another random piece. i just felt like writing and this is what came out.)


Seeminly alone, the lady clothed by night and caressed by gentle moonlight walks. Her breath trails behind in tiny crystals, frozen in the air. Black tendrils wrap around her ankles and climb up towards her waist, dulling the shine of her silky, flowing robes. She stops and seems to hover as the dark lace still wavers. She tilts her head up to the sky and closes her eyes, letting a moonbeam cascade across her face, making her beauty blinding. A chill fills the air as the shadow creeps into her light, curling up to meet her lips. She shudders slightly as a delicious smile spreads plays across her mouth. Her eyes flutter open as the one she’s come to meet appears. Sensual, magnetic. He radiates a fear-instilling darkness, but captivates her heart with a irresistible enchantment. His hollow eyes say he’s evil, but she can’t help from wanting more. His icy fingertips dance across her porcelain skin and they set her on insides on fire. His soul is hard, his blood flows black, and pulses poison through his veins, but his pretty princess gives him joy. A feeling stripped from him so long ago. She quenches a thirst he didn’t know he had. They stay there, intertwined, drunken with the other, relishing their few moments. A tear falls down her cheek as they begin to part. Regret flickers across his face. He dissolves back into charcoal smoke and sinks into the shadows once again. She dissipates into shimmers as she floats into the midnight sky. They whisper silent promises they both know they cannot keep, to last until the next time they doubt may be.

~nostalgia~
(I wrote this for a school assignment a couple years ago...I ususally don't do to well when I have a prompt, though.)

The breeze whips across my face and the air pushes forcefully against me as I pump back in forth. The ropes I grip onto are dirty and weathered. My hair flutters in front of me and wraps around my face as I go backward and then shoots behind me as I start to go forward again. I can smell the decaying leaves lying around the backyard in the cool fall air. The swing set creaks and groans with my movement. For a moment I wonder if it can still support my weight.
I stop pumping and let myself ease to a stop as I drag my feet on the ground below me to slow down. Once I stop I stare at the ground and intently start digging a hole in the dirt with the toe of my sneaker—something I used to do several years before until I couldn’t stretch my little leg out far enough to make the pit any deeper.
I look up and glance around the yard. I see the mass amounts of duct tape on the trees that used to hold up our zip line before the big ice storm ruined it. I notice the ivy I planted by the playhouse one summer with Anna years ago taking over the rotting, wooden planks. I remember so many good times just running around outside back here when I was younger. I was always so carefree and happy. My friends and I would have so much fun playing the tons of games we invented that required the juvenile imagination such as our 8-year-old selves.
Nostalgia hits me and I feel a knot in my throat. I begin to long for the days when my biggest worry was deciding what color bows to wear in my braids. Everything seems to be so complicated and my world seems so jaded. I feel so confused and mixed up. Why can’t things be how they used to be? Why did my life have to keep changing when I was just fine with how things were? I thought everything was perfect, that nothing was wrong. Sometimes I think being oblivious to all the cracks and creases was better than knowing the truth.
I start to relive all the screaming, the crying, and the fighting. I can hear their angry words being tossed back in forth. I can feel their words cutting into my soul like razors. I can hear the doors slamming and the sounds of sobbing behind closed doors. I can remember watching my world crumble into tiny pieces as I sat stunned, but crying because I didn’t know what else to do.
Involuntarily, tears start to steadily fall down my cheeks. I feel a tear right by my mouth and I am compelled to catch it with my tongue. It tastes salty and cold. I feel like I’m about to shatter once again as I begin to feel that familiar aching. I spend so much time convincing myself that things are okay and that I’m fine and something as simple as sitting on a swing in my backyard is making me fall to pieces.
It’s strange how crying can make me feel so weak, yet so relieved at the same time. Each sob seems to lift away a little pressure, but then it only comes back with more intensity.
I close my eyes and try to stop the tears from coming. Slowly, but surely I start succeed. I open my eyes again and realize my knuckles are white from clutching the ropes of the swing so tightly. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my jacket even though the salty liquid has already dried and stiffened my skin.
I stand up and turn around to look down at the worn, yellow, plastic seat. I try hard not to break down again as I start to remember how many times I’ve come out here before, way back when, to eat Popsicles during those laid-back, chill summers as a kid.
Despite how worn I feel, as I walk across the grass, I try to quickly finish regaining my composure so I can head back inside. Wishing and thinking about the past won’t get me anywhere, I tell myself. I’m tired of feeling let down, I’m tired of feeling like I’m not in control, and I’m tired of letting myself succumb to self-pity and depression.
At that moment I decided I was going to be stronger. This wouldn’t bring me down. No matter what it took, I wasn’t going to be defeated. I wasn’t going to let the pain rip apart my soul. I would make it.
I could almost feel the gray and numbness glazing over me. The world wouldn’t see my broken heart and neither would I.