At three years old, nothing seems quite as disastrous as the absence of a much missed parent. Cookies and candies hold no interest when, more often than not, those delicious treats prove enough to save the world or at least enough to motivate just one more round of tag.
Still, the tears and the tantrums fade easily in the morning light.
*
Half a decade later, the loss of a pet rat causes the throat to tighten and the eyes to burn. Tears fall and the struggle to understand the loss, to comprehend the lack of life simultaneously consumes and nourishes the grief.
School tomorrow looms on the horizon like the ultimate cruelty, but the
Just wait in the car, he said with
a smile and a wink and, I wont
be long, just a minute or two.
Liar.
We sang while he was gone
my sister was Mindy McCready
and I was Shania Twain,
daddys little country girls
but I always noticed the way
he lingered there, head bent
just so in the darkened
doorway that wasnt ours.
Liar.
We meet her eventually,
but the divorce is too new
for my sister and so she
rides with dad while I
go with the new lady, who
treats me as if I were older
than I really am. You have
an old soul, she says and
watches for my reaction,
kno
nice, I mean, like a girl. I mean, ah sophisticated. Its a new look for you.
Lynn lifted her head, blinking once over her shoulder toward Cal. She wondered if her skepticism was as prevalent on her features as it was within her thoughts as she shook her head toward him. Looking away, she shrugged out of the fitted turquoise top after unbuttoning it, hanging it on her hook easily enough. Snatching up a worn white and red tank top, she slipped it overhead, settling it over the black swim suit that fit easily over her slim build. After replacing her formal black pants with a baggy pair of red sweatpants, she turned
Start so small, like bubbles
born on air from a child's mouth.
And we grow, as a seed, sprouting,
growing larger and larger, defined
by our environment, the surroundings
and lives that touch the one
that one of us was born within.
But mostly it is this one,
this mind that gave life
to one of us many dreams,
that carves us into something
more, something real.
But we need room to grow as
we would and sometimes
sometimes that room is taken
as ideas, desires, incidents,
failures, life, and even
other dreams come into play.
These things grasp at us, clawing
and scratching until we are forced
To evade them, flitting through air
To explain an idea born
on the wind, he paints
knowing that only a few
might try to understand,
to see, to feel what
it is he tries to express.
To rid herself of the voices
that echo within her mind,
she writes a story
that no one might read
but to her, to express is enough.
For the sound of a brush
against the canvas, soft
against course, he paints
something he fears to express.
For the feel of the paper
beneath her hands and pen
within her fingertips, she expresses
ideas that scare even herself.
Against the shifting and often
violent mixture of emotions
that dwell within the mind,
they express what they feel,
hoping t
Just a Game - Final Version by HisaKaiya, literature
Literature
Just a Game - Final Version
What is your character's name? kaiya
Please enter your password: (omitted)
Welcome to Achaea.
A blur of color and words against black
as the screen flashes past you, constant,
never stopping, never pausing.
You have new messages. READMSG (enter).
NSTAT (enter). No news.
HOUSEWHO (enter).
Ah, a new player.
Ask how he is, answer his questions.
He catches on quickly, and it's obvious
that he is becoming submerged
in the text and words that move
across the screen again and again,
repeating and repeating until the text
that moves across the screen is
stuck in your mind's eye -
Mindseye? A tattoo that will give
you sight when yo
I can feel the shadows shifting around me as I lift the set of scales from the table, grasping the very top between two fingers. My eyes roam over the beads scattered across the table. If I focus on them along enough, a shade of blue darker than my own eyes can be seen swirling in the center of each reflective surface.
The blue is the soul that I am about to judge, for I am the Goddess of Judgment. Each bead is compared to the weight of the ideal perfect soul, which stays always on the left scale. If the examined soul balances the scales, the soul is fit to be born into the world once again.
I can feel the sunlight drifting in through the
To explain his new ideas, he paints,
knowing that only a few might come
to understand, to see, to feel
what it is he tries to express.
To release his sorrow, he paints.
To unleash his anger, he paints.
To forgive those who do not
understand, see, feel, he paints.
For the sound of inks against the canvas,
he paints a picture that only a few
will bother to try to understand.
For the feel of the brush in and
against his hands, he paints a message
that no one else might ever see.
For the gentle mixture of colors,
an emotion that no one might feel,
or admit to, is what he paints.
He paints to understand his own way.
He paints to
Like bubbles born by breath, we start so small
and steadily grow to sizes of all sorts, given life
by lives, by those living the lives that surround
us, start us, shape us, feed us, tend us, and soon--
Enough, we think, enough of that. Little hands,
big hands, thin hands, thick hands reach for us,
grab at us, try to claim us and steal us, but we--
Evade them, flitting through air on feathers
made of made of hope, soaring to new heights
and straining to reach our destinations,
whichever place each might be, for each
of us has a different purpose, a different
person to which we were meant to guide.
But how to find that person? To g
Every other weekend with him only
happened once every other month,
when he would pick us up (always late),
drop us off at our old home -
which could never be just "dad's house" -
and leave to work or to sleep.
My sister and I would eat, just us two.
We would play in the silence, broken
only by the dog munching on his food,
until we slept, waiting, waking
alone, only to wait and sleep some more.
When the dog died, I remember days
of tears and weeks of refusing to visit.
The silence was too overwhelming, echoing
through the halls of my childhood
much like I used to pad down them,
hoping to catch my dad before he fell asleep.
Wh
At three years old, nothing seems quite as disastrous as the absence of a much missed parent. Cookies and candies hold no interest when, more often than not, those delicious treats prove enough to save the world or at least enough to motivate just one more round of tag.
Still, the tears and the tantrums fade easily in the morning light.
*
Half a decade later, the loss of a pet rat causes the throat to tighten and the eyes to burn. Tears fall and the struggle to understand the loss, to comprehend the lack of life simultaneously consumes and nourishes the grief.
School tomorrow looms on the horizon like the ultimate cruelty, but the
Once upon a time I wrote with longing
On the subject of souls, of completion, of love...
And how until I found completion, I'd be wishing
For the day that love came into my life.
No longer do I wait for that day,
Because though our love is far from perfect,
I know in my heart that it's safe to say...
My soul is lighter now - completed by your's.
Everyday fills my head with thoughts of you,
So far away, away from me, that sometimes
I don't know how I'll make it through;
Yet so close that I feel your heart beating with mine.
Though I've never felt it, I miss your warmth at night,
But I know that every day is one day closer to you,
Two shadows once
Created as a whole,
Torn apart by time
Each now a seperate soul.
Searching for one another
In a dying world; cold
Lost and alone, with no way
Back to the times of old.
Lights shine brightly upon
Those souls who have
Found their other halves,
And now with each other laugh.
But those who are still searching
For their soul's missing part...
They are trying to regain
The light in their darkened hearts.
And against all odds in this deep
Abyss of life, they will all come to find
What they are looking for, and
Suddenly life will seem a little more kind.
So now I'm waiting for the day when
I will be reunited with
When the stars brighten the night sky,
Little ones are tucked into their beds
With beautiful thoughts of innocence
Surfacing within their heads.
At the same time others will be,
Curled up under their covers, unable
To wipe the tears from their eyes;
Unable to find the key to a life that is stable.
Lovers lay side by side, content
To be with one another - for as long
As they are always with each other,
It isn't quite so hard to remain strong.
Wistful dreamers will be deep asleep, dreaming
Fantasies of wild adventures and a life
Beyond that of which they live now -
Filled with impossible magics and wildlife.
Insomniacs lean aga
Chlorine: thickly permeating the air, it was the main smell in the large, warm room. The air was damp, steamy, and heavy, with a thickness that made it slightly more difficult to breath. The bleachers were filled with parents and siblings, all chattering excitedly, cheering for their daughter's school, or for their daughter, or for a friend of their daughter.
Some girls were cheering down at the opposite end of the pool, cheering for the girls currently in the water, racing with everything they had in them. Bodies moving fluidly thorugh the water, arms stroking swiftly, legs kicking forcefully, and grim determination to place best radiating
Sleepless nights along
With tiring days.
Physically exhausted
Yet mentally restless
Senses overloaded,
Emotionally drained
And lacking a peaceful
Mind. Unable to sleep
Thought is the only
Option I seemingly possess
But several emotions
Do condemn,
Torturing my
Half-broken sanity worse
Than it already was
Burning in this young soul
So painful now
That these lips of mine
Currently utter one short prayer,
Begging simply for rest.
Thoughts dwelling on the surface,
Open and obvious for anyone to see.
Yet unnoticed they go, even when
They're plain in my eyes - an ignored plea.
The words of accusation are burning,
Burning and searcing across my soul,
Tracing a path of pain that never
Seems to heal, only leaving a gaping hole.
Comfort found, but so far away!
Will seemingly unending patience last
Until the day it's here?
Hopefully, for the day is now nearing fast.
Yet the feeling still lingers across
Skin that is so far unmarred, an emotion
that doesn't seem to go away, one that would
Stop with the help of a single, simple motion.
~And you don't seem to understand…~
The words echoed from the radio at a medium volume, and I repeated them in my head. I knew the song would be playing there, mentally, over and over, even when the radio moved on.
Glancing out the window, I stared up at the sky, scrutinizing the heavy clouds hanging overhead. Rain, was the first thought to strike my mind, silent other than the song echoing across it's expanses. It was more of a plea; because the wind didn't carry the scent nor the feel of the rain I loved so much.
All the same, as my car rolled to a stop at the next stop sign, I reached down and rolled my window up. Blinking straig
Emotions nonexistant,
Hardened heart, cold as ice,
Always observing from a distance -
Careless mistakes never made twice.
Forget loving, only hating
This hatred so close, ready to churn.
Towards humanity it flares, kindling
Yet for herself giant flames do brightly burn.
Gentle sparks ignite, slowly bringing her
Feelings forth, casting night away.
Minds changed, opinions can indeed alter
Because lost things may eventually see the day.
Some pushing here, little bits of
Shoving there, is all
Saving one takes, before love
Grabs life's reigns, finishing darkness' fall.
I am so in love with life right now, more than I have been in a long time. It bothers me a lot that I don't really actually have anyone to share it with.
On days like today, I don't have anyone to sit next to me in the car, hold the hand that isn't on the steering wheel and smile back at me when I comment on how absolutely beautiful it is outside.
Why is there so much missing and so much wrong right now, when all I want to do is admire everything I've been ignoring?
...why feelings so strong make the body so weak.
Man, country songs are freaking emo sometimes. But that line has been stuck in my head all day. It popped into my head at some point, so I had to go listen to the song ("Green and Gray," Nickel Creek) and it has remained stuck in my head ever since.
I had something to post, but then I read it again and it seemed like shit. So I'm revising it and maybe I'll post it if I can make myself happy with it. Or maybe I'll post it even if I can.
If not, I'll probably have something else to post soon. The steady stream of half-panicked thoughts that have occupied my mind for the past few months finally
Actually, that would be the flu. Or the remnants of it. Either way, it's my stomach hurting, and not my head.
Much.
And here are the things I've decided I need to work on:
1) Stop focusing so much on me. Yes, I needed it. For a long while, I focused too much on others, not enough on myself. Now I've been doing the opposite. I can't do that - helping others is too much of a part of who I am.
2) I need to find respect for myself. I think, in working at the Y again, I'm off to a good start.
3) I can't keep losing sight of who I am in light of wanting to keep someone. It's not worth it. The person I should want to keep, above all else, is my