Hanging on your every wish

i was here when you needed me, and even when you didnt.
listening and accompanying your every wish
it wasnt as if i was crying inside, i thought you would drown in my heart
so i gave you a show, a quirky old smile,  so id never have to give you cpr
but i let you in eventually and you got your feet wet
rain boots you brought, but you didnt care you said
i let you pick at my nerves, even as we traveled to new heights
we raced through my mind with earth out of sight
jumping through portals leading to new dimensions of mind
giving you the keys to lightyears in time
oxygen not needed, feeded through laughfter
gravity was burned at the stake, but something tugged at me
was it aliens or fate?
so i looked down for awhile only to realize where we are
a dark room with glow in the dark stars
hallucinating i knew this needed to stop
not surprised that you drugged me, i needed to drop
following your orders, as you requested
refusing to come down, my orders rejected
hanging on your every wish, i said tie me a noose,
"hey baby make sure that it wont come loose"
falling back to earth, seeing that we really did go far
hanging on that noose you're little wishing star
ready to see the earth again,
i knew this would leave a scar

a new thing.....

Jenna

Smoothe black skin shining in the sun

Tall amongst the sunflowers

ronald’s words numbing and old

Beloved, flowing with the wind

Whisping all worries away

Puzzled to why they split

Red swelled jenna’s cheeks even just hearing ronald’s name

Pleasantly waiting for better days

ALL in it for you.

I feel a pound in my heart around him
thumping so hard in my chest i wanna forget how i met him,
looking in his eyes, asking i wonder what parent he borrowed those from
my fist balled up in my palm the same palm that held my sanity
squeezed so tighly i managed to tear open my mind and find some emotions that werent supposed to exist like a button the could end my world
rubbing my fingers through his hair, while his head rests on my lap, putting his face to mine i realize i found madness. looking down at my feet i see see the clouds that have formed and the sky that im living in now
so pretty it is up here, looking at shining hopes and dreams, no sunscreen, as the only thing keeping me alive up here is the concealed imagination, my oxygen
yet so unreal this place is and the feelings that ive grasped
i love it up here

six sentences..inspired?

Whenever you want to define hero google dictionary isn’t enough. a hero is someone who can first acquire bravery, always looked to as the man or woman who can do things that most cant however being a hero is doing things that people can do but just won’t. it’s being able to look at this world and say this is wrong and something should be done about it. but it’s not just something it someone.  Now anyone in this room can be a hero, even if someone doesn’t want or know they're being saved. a hero is not someone who can fly but what he can do with his ability to fly, will he save the crashing plane, or decide to play with his new cape?

Brown

Why do I have to be like a puppy?

Sitting there while you’re sad staring you in your face, tongue stretched out dancing while you pace.

My floppy ears don’t make you laugh or even giggle a little when I bark and bow and roll around, doesn’t make you feel tick-led?

But that’s all I could be at the moment when you were down and I was up, when everything was pulling left and right in your mind, I was too busy wasting time as I tried to make you mime. I couldn’t even make you smile I failed again I see, but I was dealing with my own problems mentally. Even as your puppy I still managed to be here even though between my gazing eyes and fluffy hair, I didn’t know how to be there.

A best friend I don’t know,

Your puppy , maybe

Your clown, all the time

A tissue

Here when you need it.

Me always there.

Always there when you need me. that’s what me told them. Every single time they needed something me was there. Not mom, not dad, not best friend, or sister. It was me. and you, you was the  neighbor, you was the the annoying kid, you was the adult with broken dreams, you was the forgotten one,you were hurt and now you is everyone. Me never changed though. But if you was me and me was you. Would you still be the same? Ofcourse not. Who is you to those who are mes’? 

Spongebob Icecream

 

I remember looking down that empty street; it was a summer day everything silent except for the small call of the ice cream truck in the distance as I sat outside the barbershop watching my cousin Maya beg her mom desperately to buy us some ice cream as she heard the joyous jingle coming closer. I turned to my right to look at the barbershop; I could only see advertisements on its large glass windows.  Acting as a block to the inside where my brother was being tended to for his new haircut. Deaf to the commotion around me of the wining 4 year old I stared into the depths of however deep a 7 year old mind goes.

“Can we please have ice cream mommy! Can we please! Mommy you promised we could have ice cream later! MOM he’s coming hurry up!!” she jumped up and down as any common spoiled child would.

“Alright Maya, damn you’ll get your ice cream just leave me alone.” She sighed, grabbing her money out her purse while chewing her gum viscously as she pins each dollar in our hands. At that moment he finally rounded the corner, watching Maya silently while her eyes grew big like a wolf ready to eat another conquered little piggy. When the ice cream man handed me my SpongeBob Popsicle stick I analyzed it before ripping out his bubblegum eyeballs that I loved so much and instantly popped them in my mouth.

“Lou, let’s go!” My cousin [KM1] Misty screamed as my brother soon joined us outside in the heated emptiness of the street. His hair looked like freshly cut grass; nearly bald.  

    [KM2] That evening we went back to the house everything was going great until mom called.  She stated that she would be over the house to pick us up for a long ride home back to Pittsburgh. Upon arriving I was drinking sprite on the balcony soaking in the late night summer breeze. She appeared at the door, my mom ,in the shortness that was mom and her best feature the red hair bright upon her round, soft freckled face. She walked in with a mission you could see by the look in her eye. She called for my sister Jazz who was on the second floor just coming from a long hour of video games with my older brother Sebastian. The two were never really close but when it came down to games and any fun they were there,.

“Jazz, Sebastian, and Lou grab your things lets go.” Then there was a pause.

“Jasmine said she isn’t going anywhere and she had that talk with you earlier.” Said my Michigan groomed Aunt Beth, who was always known for her snide comments.

“Oh yes she is. I told her earlier she can’t stay and I was coming in an hour.”

“Well she said she doesn’t want to go.” She folded her arms across her chest, the wrinkles in her face sagging into her frown probably stained there from years of not smiling. The air in the room tightened as if we were all in a giant zip lock bag, and me the only one gasping for air.

“Lou and Sebastian get you things!” My mom announced loudly so no questions were asked. I ran upstairs only to hear their voices begin to rise as the tension beat down on my heart while I packed my things. They screamed and yelled unforgiveable things but I muted them letting the moment slip by me like a television show in which I couldn’t wait for the commercial. As I jumped in the car outside I watched them grab up my mother forcing her to leave the residence without my sister. Eventually giving up, my mom drives off with me and brother turning around to say , “do you want to go with her?” [KM3] angrily too. We hesitantly gave a silent no only to watch her drive away leaving one of our own left behind.  when only an hour ago we were eating ice cream on that lovely day.

---

 

you're murdering her.

It sounded like the thud of a murder's footsteps thumped in her chest. The sweat on her arm quietly pours. She looks at her clenched fist and is numb to the finger nails digging into her palm only to wonder once again why she was doing this. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the cold marble wall. She suddenly sees in the haziness of the dark a boy appear in front of her. he wears a red polo with the words Hollister written in bold across his chest, she noticed on his left shoulder in there’s a doodle permanent marker that says 'Michael loves me' slightly covered by the muscular curve on his forearm and that among his dark complexion the words seem to blend in ever so slightly. She looks up at the boy in front of her hesitantly only to peer into his big eyes that were the color of the newly furnished coffee tables in Barnes nobles. The only thing she can see in front of her are his lips, he reaches for her wrist only to pull her closely. She can smells his breath ever so smooth and minty, she breathes it in savoring it even. Then the moment soon fades away back into the darkness that is behind the eyelid. She opens her eyes only to turn to the left and feel the pain increase in her chest as she held all of her weight upon her shoulders and the mass in her heart.

The world is talking but do i listen?

The world looks at me and says your young look at yourself you can go anywhere, anyplace, anytime, there’s so much ahead of you but when i look ahead all i see are walls.
The world told me that I should expand my dreams into reality, but i don’t have the tools to expand. no my dreams not as elastic as I once was told and the world too big for them to wrap around. Maybe a different material? But this was me, no other material would best wrap up, sum up and be what could be my world if only my dreams were elastic.
The world told me that beauty was in the eye of the beholder and that everyone was beautiful. but the world only has one eye it seems.
The world said I could be anything. i soon learned that meant my education could be anything, and labor for it would be great and that honestly anything had laws, and other qualifications that i just couldn't meet.
the world is in my hands now...and when i look at it i know the world is pretty mean I found out. giving me so many happy quotes, that would lead me to some sort of realization of inspiration they knew were not true and then telling me to get my head out of the clouds but it’s so beautiful up there and the world is so ugly and even the world will tell you that. i look at it and wonder so many things.

You ,don't even know.

He drags me across the floor by my foot yet my head being the only thing touching the carpet. A three year old he is with his toys and I his victim, doll, endearing buddy, and only friend. The lifelessness in his eyes mimicking the plastic dullness of my own. A sown mouth on me into a smile, one I cannot help but yearn for the day I have the muscles to open it. my stitches coming loose from every time he wants to toss me when life is going wrong. Stains still on my face from the minute he stops paying attention dropping me for someone new. The times he’s left me at the park when meeting a new friend, and I tear just thinking where he could have gone. As soon as mommy says no and he’s broken yet another toy plane I have to find an excuse and some screws maybe even a little duct tape. A makeshift tissue I’m always here to save the day.  Even though its hard to catch all of his problems being so small, and when the key to all his answers are bigger than me. those moments when my soft fur let’s his enemies slip right through my palms, and telling him to get a grip is hard when being thumb-less I can’t even get a grip myself. Dragging across the floor I remind myself of the stitches, the pulled fur, the dried tears on the tips of my nose, the lonely play dates, and sorrowful nights.  From the leg he has in his loose grip he turns me upright and he holds me to his chest and smiles rubbing my head so gently. its worth it when his tears  soak into my face, and he smiles just knowing im here. Realizing im always there when planes break and when he’s too sick to go play. That the monster in the dark cant beat me. yes a toy I am to him but the only thing that cant leave and doesn’t want to leave.

You cant say that you hypocrite!!!

"i love you so much baby, i just think you're so beautiful and i don't understand why you don't see it"

 yeah ive heard that line before too many times. i didn't say i couldn't hear it, said i couldn't see, now if you can grab me a pair of lenses that make me skinny lbs less, flowing wavy vibrant hair, outstanding eyes, and the legs of a mannequin well yeah i may consider believing you. the i love you before also only makes me believe that youre only saying that because you love me. what about the people who don't love me? am i ugly to them? take that into consideration and choose your words wisely before you speak. it also amazes me how you of all people could manage to talk to me about my self esteem!! i see the way you slouch and the intrigued, disgusted, and fascinated stare and feelings sprout from your every pore, every strand of hair out of place, every stain on your clothing and tooth that you grit so harshly thinking of them. And you know exactly who 'them' are. the people who are better than you. why are they however? only you know and that's what keeps you swimming whether you've already dived into the deep end or strive to reach the glassed over shoreline tapping below it often.  what is beautiful anyways!? the man who said beauty is in the eye of the beholder never defined who exactly was the beholder ,does one person hold or know what true beauty is and what was this being's idea of it?  And you don't have to understand why i don't get beauty and why i don't see it. maybe its because i have no beholder and you're really blind. 

All i need to say for right now.

I get so tired of being screwed over all the time. Digging in my groves twisted ,i am pinning your pretty pictures of what you think life is made up of, left here hanging with my back still against the wall.

time travelers lover.... -vignette

you go and tell me that you're thinking of the past and all i can think is the present is not enough for you. i wasnt in the past and thats whats bothering me! it bothers me that every single time your world starts crumbling down she comes up and apparently she was the only one who understood you while im standing right here in your face catching every soaking  tear and putting ointment on bad wounds. i cant reprimand you as your girlfriend for looking on the past because i do it all the time. but when i do i realize how much you mean to me and how happy i am that you're here. im not going there to escape some grueling reality trust me baby your my reality. when i broke free of that guy who once hurt me you dont think that i dont look back some days and wonder what ifs and whys'? of course i do baby all the time but when i look at you i cant help but wonder if that happened so i could meet someone soo great for my future and i was hoping or so i thought that you were that someone great. however sarah synthia silvia stout is the trash that you put out and i hope im not a replacement band aid only there to suck up your blood and wounds then be thrown away. i thought what we have is something to be treasured and honestly secretly i love how much we dont argue and fight over litttle things. how we are just able to work it out but i think you want to dump me which is what brought this about. so baby please look on the future and not the past for peace because i want to be apart of that future the present is only a tease for what we can be.

First Day's Change

I walked in there fumbling all over the place prepared for battle. I didn’t care who had something to say I would like to have think that I was more than prepared for the worse they had to say on this lonesome day. No matter how many people surrounded me it would still be lonesome I knew. I came in grabbed my schedule and headed to the second floor standing tall, confident, and happy however I knew how I really looked to those people; coffee stained teeth, greasy hair, shiny forehead, and crusty knee caps from what little  I was showing. I passed the lockers to see the various names on small yellow post-it notes, mine appearing to have last named first Kareen, Molly. I turned right only to notice that this was my stop room 254. I walked in the classroom books held tightly to my chest almost feeling as if they were my protection now from the glares of my past encounters. She told me my name was listed on one of the back desks. I stood up straight in my seat like I had been practicing all summer for this day. I wondered why the room felt so different…no, not the room why did I feel different.  It wasn’t as if this was even a new place for me I had been going there since seventh grade but now it felt as if the rules of life and my sudden thoughts on it had changed. My smile was brighter, my laugh was genuinely jubilant, and the hatred in my heart had dug so deep down inside I couldn’t tell where I buried it in the first place.

Dont make me smile now....or ill talk to you

I guess you could say that they had a reason to be wary of me. I mean it’s not every day that you see someone smile for no reason up and down the halls, who doesn’t have a boyfriend, isn’t in love, doesn’t have an evil scheme, and has never won anything in her life time. It must’ve seemed suspicious however it was just me. a very smiley person. Some people may say I’m lunatic like, or bipolar just because the strange outburst of excitement and love or the sporadic  anger that rises from within choking me until I say the worst things to that person that have been on my mind all along. And just so you know I always have ammo. If they ever make a machine or someone who can read people’s minds then you would see that things I do are completely logical to me and the rest of the world. Almost like the time I went to Gabe’s and told the cashier that it was completely inappropriate that they were selling lingerie in the back to school department. Does that make sense? We don’t want our children to be whores. Girls these days are just throwing themselves around with anyone and everyone. Well if you would have gotten them some good old granny panties instead of see through draws maybe then there would be less HIV, herpes, aids, and sixteen and pregnant tv shows. The cashier understood my reasoning behind it all and surely I did not get those see through panties. Maybe I shouldn’t be discussing things like this at my age as if I were an old folk seeing what was wrong with the world but our generation is failing. We’ve become so numb to everything going on around us that now we take EVERYTHING as a joke. For my sake they were joking around about children in Africa having their villages burned down and the young men had to kill their families at gun point some even at the youngest of 8 or 9 years old. Its gruesome. Why do I care though? That’s what people ask me all the time and it makes me so angry because all I can think about is that could be you tomorrow. There is going to come a time where the world will be dark, viscous, and almost unrecognizable as a place we call home. Will they be laughing then when they have to shoot their mothers and fathers to save themselves? Wow, I’m sorry I just get so emotional when it comes to that sort of thing. I hate the people who say things like ‘nobody cares if you’re adopted stop complaining’ or ‘who cares if they’re hungry what about me’. it makes me want to, hurt others. People are just so cruel nowadays then we have teens killing themselves! I’m just like in shock of how many people taking their own lives based upon others, It’s so sad what we’ve come to. But I really do hope someday I can help but not like lets raise money for the kids in Africa but let’s make the world genuinely happy. oh you don’t even know. Seeing a smile to me is like the biggest gift in the world. Seeing people happy makes me happy that’s it. Not money, not guys, just true happiness, the kind of happiness that comes from the heart and not the mind. This is the kind of happiness that glows from within, seeping out of your skin pouring onto others like me. A true smile, there is nothing like it.

the ache i dont have but know

I’m going to be honest I can’t help who I am.

I can’t help that every single time I see the homeless I feel an ache in my back from the cold hard ground they lay on.

That whenever my mom says ow I say ooh

How when  I see the small girl crying I can feel the sweet tears slide down my face and soak up into my hands.

Or how the anger rises from beneath those who have been mistreated and I feel that same heat rise from stomach to my ears knocking on my brain of frustration.

I can’t help that every time I see two young lovers I feel their lips touching as if they were my own and the gooey exchange of spit I touch the magic on each hair of my body.

I can’t help but feel your pain.

Support Me

     

            She sat silently in mandatory support staring at the wall in front of her. The room was wide but short in length however tall as if at one point a small ballroom, only suggestive by the carvings on the ceiling that imitated a kind of ancient Greek look. She could feel the slight breeze brushing at her ear that her hair had decided to hide behind. To her left there was a small podium in which the principal would rarely speak to the rest of the school about whatever he wanted since in reality no one was listening. She rubs her face roughly reaching to her eyes next, for sleep was calling to her and she would not listen for she had work to do. Work, work, work that’s all she ever did because that’s all she had time for. In her smoother white tank top showing very little cleavage with the brim of her boyfriend’s jacket resting at her fingertips, for his arms were a lot longer than hers which she had never noticed before she stole his beloved jacket from him.  He always wore it and it bothered her since whenever she herself wore her jacket it was to protect her from the world or to at least make her feel like it; she never felt comfortable without it. He wouldn’t take it off though, which she knew since he loved her so much, like the jacket he would give it in honor of not having to fight with her, or tell her why he didn’t want her to have it. She knew why but never confessed that was the reason of it all, that originally her plan wasn’t to steal for recognition of being his girl but to steal for recognition that he didn’t need to hide. It was complicated; their relationship for it was hard where the line started and finished with them; where the friendship started and the relationship began, either way she loved him too like he loved his jacket and loved her.  

He was leaving in a few days to go to Florida and it killed her to think of him gone. Stuck in this hell hole, she thought, in dummy support with all these ignorant and selfish people only there to make her life unbearable. He was supposed to be leaving in 2 days and he just decided to tell her today the big news of not being there for a month. ‘Oh, the agony’ she thought over and over again. He was the only person who was keeping her here and now she would have to deal with the drama, the asshole staff of SciTech, his lovely friends to bully her, and the wonder and worry of what he was doing at that very moment without her. He was sitting across the lengthy room from her. Turned to the wall as she was, he was trying to look as hard working as possible. Even though everyone knew at the end of the day his grades would still look the same. According to his grades he wasn’t very smart but she still thought he was the greatest guy in the world. How wonderful a relationship right? For him to be leaving it felt as if he would never come back she often thought during the two days but only for today she would pretend like it was no big deal as if he was just going to be absent tomorrow, when she knew otherwise.

“Alright everyone, time to clean up for the day, pick up your belongings, and can a couple of kids help me put the room back together? I’ll give you star stamps if you do.” Her science teacher screamed over the rush of kids darting out of the way of others to get out of mandatory support even though the next class was just another place to spend in torment. Nevertheless she waited for him as he was either nice enough or dumb enough to fall for the star stamps trick to clean up the room real quick before they headed different ways. She would stand there for what felt like forever and wait until he got what he wanted or as teachers saw it deserved for his ‘good behavior’. They walked out into traffic, with her boyfriend to lead the way. Only to tug him back when they got to the stairs so she could confront him properly with his full attention.

“uh, so how about that initiative?” she said to him with a gleam in her eye to think that it might help him make up his mind.

“Yeah, about that….” His voice trailed out into a smirk that she knew meant he was thinking of her in a way that she appreciated as always; cute. Not sexy but cute and that was nice. She looked him in the eye where they seemed to also have a gleam in them that made him seem precious to her as if nothing in the world could replace that look. On those days whenever he was upset or sad his eyes would turn a dull brown and he would look down at his feet as he walked which only made her want take care of him like a child who she wished to marry someday.

“Yes.” She proclaimed prolonging the word with hope that this wasn’t anything bad.

“I don’t know, do you really want me to do it?” he turned his head to the side like a puppy and that shine again in his eyes shown, always making her giggle a little.

“yes.” That’s all she replied with because that’s all he needed to know for he knew what she was talking about.

It was lovely how this world worked between them and the rest. Running away together as always and finding new hope for home for the one they had sucked; typical loves like any other.

            They then parted their ways to different classrooms leaving the day to themselves for her to daydream and him to move on with his life. It was hard for her to imagine him gone but she also had to realize he wasn’t leaving forever it was only three weeks. They could contact each other over Facebook, or he could even call her. That’s how they usually communicated through Facebook or Gmail another chatting site except Gmail was also their email accounts too making it risky if anyone had their passwords. They would talk for hours on end until someone had to leave or the laptop died. In their conversations always proceeded the same with her saying “hey wats up?” and him replying with “nothing” each and every time. They would begin talking about how their day was and what it was like good or bad onto subjects of their relationship expanding in serious questions like the future. It was going to be hard for her she knew but at the same time she wouldn’t tell him she was worried for his own sake.  They lived in their own little bubble and she would do anything not to pop it.

            The end of her next period class came as she sat in the classroom intently staring at the clock only to realize what little time she had left before the day ended and he was gone for good. She was sitting next to a dark Puerto Rican boy with lopsided wavy hair and a pungent smell of axe almost sickening to the stomach .He turned to her and furred his brow only to see her relentless gaze upon the clock as she rubbed tissue between her fore finger and her thumb shaking her leg rather viscously. He addressed her cautiously as if she had been ill.

“Uh, are you okay?” he said staying his distance even though he still sat in the desk next to her.

“yeah, I’m uh just waiting’ for something. Do you know when this period ends?” still shaking her leg she looked at him wide eyed.

“I think like 1:45.  What are you waiting for?” he paused only to realize she was only anxious to get out of class but it seemed just a little too anxious.

“Just it’s a long story.”

            She wondered about what to do next period. Or what were they going to do next period on account of him leaving at the end of the day. The tissue’s soft gritty particles rolling off on her fingers as the time was ticking with only two minutes left. She looked away for a moment only to notice the Puerto Rican boy stuffing five thick rubber bands in his tight pocket in what he thought was sneakily. The bell rang and her eyes widened once again at the sudden pounding of her heart. She darted out of the classroom leaving her book bag and papers still sloppily on her desk. Once she squeezes through the doorway of people the hallway is filled with bunches more. Only glimpses of each kid appeared to her as they walked by and the various colors from each of their shirts. She stood on the tip of her toes stretching her neck out looking to her right, only to find him slowly walking towards the steps leading to the gymnasium.  Then spotting him from afar she rushed passed the crowd in her gray athletic jacket cutting through the air as she did giving much resistance to the quickness she never had in the first place. Her feet were clumsily hitting the floor, knocking into many onlookers with her eyes proving how desperate she was to get to him before he got to class.

            Finally catching up to him on the stairwell she called his name. “Buddy, Wait up for, me!” each pant pressing on her chest heavily even as she stopped at the top of the stairs to hold one hand on her hip and the other reaching out to him in a sweaty lack of air, only five steps away. He turned around from hearing his name.

             “Hmm?” he paused for a moment turning around to see her gasping for breath from her journey to him. She then repeated her plea for help once more only this time more clearly and a small giggle to end it. He waited of course as she slowly descended down each step until she got him. Five steps later they stared at each other and smiled as if they knew each other well but there was nothing to say at this point in time. Simultaneously and silently they began to walk down the steps once more. Reaching the last step to a small platform she stood there however he was still moving to his next class. Then he stopped to notice she wasn’t behind him turning around once more at her looking at him with a gloomy sigh signifying her feeling of his leave. He smiled for a second time at her only to nonverbally say that she shouldn’t be sad, he wasn’t going to be gone forever.

I'm a handful Bud

Tears came flowing down my face reaching at the same peek of my chin each time dropping off onto my tiny hands that my mom loves so much. each tear replenishing my cracked skin ,a desert that had finally seen rain. i grabbed my face as to cover the hideousness that was the sorrow and pain leaking though my facial expression. rocking back and forth as they asked me politely to calm down but i couldn't. the air was muted in place, i suddenly was on TV and they had turned my sound all the way down. all i could hear was the obnoxious noise that was unable to diminish from my mouth even though i was still surprisingly in control of my mind and body. it didn't feel like it at  the moment though. i began rocking back and forth once again as i heard glimpses of what they were asking me as the things on my mind spilled out of my skull onto the clean lunchroom table pouring onto poor Julie hands. My problems now stained into their very ears earwax they would never get out. when the sobs began to subside all i could
say was, "aunt, Kimmy, died,of beast cancer yesterday...i don't even know why I'm crying!" Then breaking out into more cries of support however all that came out was bits of words and bits of letters that were suppose to be words but was only gibberish. they cried for
me to help them understand so they could help yet i didn't understand what i needed help with. i guess crying in the middle of a school lunchroom gripping your face and hair included as a help needed sign. in need of someone in particular i ran out of the
lunchroom in a hurry telling them i would be fine on my way out. they didn't know where i had gone. i wasn't hiding though or at least that's not what i intended leaving for. walking down the hallway i wiped my tears away with the back of my hand as any five year old would do who cant stop crying because mommy forgot to leave the bathroom light on before bed so the monsters wouldn't get her. people stopped me and i waved them off persistent to get to my destination right down the hallway beyond the first set of doors. once i reached that glass door another sob came out before i looked to the left only to realize he was there; the person i was looking for. he watched me all the while i plopped down next to him on the wooden bench, ignorant to my bad posture.
i turned my face towards him and said, "don't be intimidated by the tears, my aunt died yesterday of breast cancer and i don't know why but, its hurting today." he nodded at me. he was a quiet soul and i knew that ,though that did not stop me from confiding in him for every unresolved conflict outside and inside. "but the real reason I'm here is because i have a question."
"okay" he replied flatly.
"do you love me like seriously?"
"yes" he said quietly.
"I'm serious because if you don't then i give you full permission to leave me right now. i wont blow-up or get angry. Just go."
"no"
"why not?"
"i don't know. because i don't want to."
"i am a handful bud." My friend Julie and Wanda rounded the corner at that moment asking me 15 questions in 3 seconds, "where have you been? do you need to talk to someone  you can talk to Mrs. Donner? why do you want to stay here, just come with us Lou!" my only reply with dried eyes was "I'm fine I'm with buddy. ill be fine." after they gave me cold stares and left i proceeded with my conversation looking deep into his milk chocolate brown eyes that only some would ever know how sweet his stare could be.
"like I've only met the lady once or twice growing up and i cant believe just a month ago she stopped by my house to tell me how good her therapy was going and how healthy she was now. My cousin must be a wreck.oh wow." i giggled at that moment pretending he didn't hear me trying to refrain from another giant sob that was in my throat, it felt as if the actual letters were stuck in my throat, a giant lump of three letters, sob.
"that's sad." he replied with a little more sympathy than the last. he put his arm around me as i leaned into his shoulder rubbing my face into his jacket that smelled of only him for physical comfort as his soft voice rendered emotional comfort with the little that was asked or said.
"Other than them i got nothing Bud."
"i didn't know that Lou. Well you got me Lou. "
"why are you here anyways?"
"I'm waiting for a ride suppose to be going home sick."
"oh."
"uhh there goes my mom in the office now."

just a thought at 10:48 on a sunday

Is it a bad thing that ive become so numb to the words that once tied knots around me and made me trip, falling and breaking maybe even aching and fearing once before? the same words that once choked me and i guess now have killed all tingly feeling emotions left in me, some may say i might as well be dead. im not without happiness just without..love. its not the fact that i am not loved, i am. its just i cant love people anymore. Well i think i am loved for a certain amount of time. i believe theres a clock ticking for me and its not to find the one but merely the time i have left until he stops loving me. i believe that every person no matter what connection has a time limit before they need something new and stop  loving you and me. its a sad concept i know and i am hopefully that someone some day for me has an endless clock.  

Commercial Family

some days when I think to myself looking at the ceiling huddled under my green covers with my fingers rubbing the head of my teddy bear almost as a genie lamp to close my eyes and dream about what it would be like if I had a family one of my own. Some days I dream about what my family is like. i dream about the commercial smiles they would put on for new comers and the arguments so bitter to us yet sweet to know the truth from people who care. I imagine we would all gather around and talks about who looks like who and our imperfections that make us the Klemmons/Jones/Clark/Randolph family. That in our family there would be that one cousin who no one in the family can stand but life isn’t the same without. i imagine their hugs would feel like the spark of a plug inserting itself into a warm socket and their kisses the smooth fabric of those silk red bows slipping between your fingers of a finished present. The exchange of 'i love yous' would be the soothing feel of bread to the homeless a finally resolved craving. But i can only imagine since my family's long gone. All i have left is my mom and my brother, they gave me hugs and kisses at one point in life when those sparks of plugs and sockets and silk red ribbons still existed for us. one night mom and i sat in the car outside of the dollar store talking about siblings in which i stopped and listen to her story of how her big brother, and four other cousins grew up together teasing the youngest. She smiled as she recalled the memory, the laugh lines so wary and worn barely even used anymore. They were the only signs of tears i have ever seen shed from mom but it was okay. i appreciated the painful effort she took to dig up the similarities of growing up to me about the people i had never met.