Randomness

If dealt with correctly, the troubles in life turn out for the best.  I have learned this over the past year and a half.  I have learned to hope, instead of plan for the end of things.  Planning for the end almost guarantees they will end. The brilliant moments after tough times gives life a highlight that makes the moments even more special.  Having realistic hope for things to happen and attempting to understand the situation makes the chances of things turning out significantly higher.  Rationality along with the understanding of one's emotions makes the situation appear in clarity.  The sunshine can break through the storm clouds.

Her Saviour

She resided in her mind,
thinking about the beauty of death,
how easy it would be to slip away into it's serenity.
Her stained, dull nails cut into the soft skin of her arms,
leaving small streams of blood trickling onto the cold, marble floor.
The negative emotions swirled around in her head,
the negative emotions beat against her chest,
seeking an escape.

A hand reached out to her,
pulling her close to a comforting, warm body.
He looked down at her with pain in his loving eyes.
Holding her tightly,
as if to erase all of the pain from her thoughts,
he whispered soft, loving words to ease her pain.
The pain slowly ebbed away,
resulting in a thankful smile for saving her from herself.


All of these are just free writes with lame titles.  They are more to express than to look nice.  I may edit them one day <3

Who else?

Abandoned on the dense, obscure road that lead to no where,
she wandered in circles,
gripping her hair in fear, anger, anxiety.
For the first time she was truly alone.
Bright flashes of his figure appeared before her,
teasing her of the once happy life she had.
Now, however, she was left with only a smudgy piece of dark cloth.
This cloth was the only key left to his heart-
a simple piece of the winter jacket she used to steal of his.
But, the simple fact was he didn't love her.
So much time spent building up what was only a dream for him,
but they created the perfect love in her eyes.
Who else could give him the silly, passionate love she gave him?
No one.
Who else could listen to him for hours talk about nothing?
No one.
Who else would take the time to understand his complex mind?
No one.
Then, why couldn't he just love her?
She wasn't good enough.

Those moments where you feel no emotion beating in your heart.  Your body is calm, still, yet not in tranquility.  Numb almost.  The urge to write down your feelings nudges on the edge of your mind.  You have to give in.  You have to hear the peaceful sounds of the keys clicking, the swift motion of your finger tips gliding gracefully across the smooth surface, writing down the hidden feelings inside.  Your subconscious briefly connects with your consciousness to decode the secret message within.  Expressing everything that is hidden inside is necessary for existence.  It's liberation.  "Freedom is a state of mind" that can only be achieved by the arts.

The One

Giving soft glares to the couples holding hands around her,
she glides by them, alone-
without anyone to hold her;
without anyone to kiss her;
without anyone to hug her.
Intense jealously leaks out her eyes,
momentarily forgetting she does have someone.
In fact, she has the One.
Someone who brings her close to his heart;
someone who softly brushes his lips against hers;
someone who refuses to let her go.
His dark, soulful eyes stare into hers,
reminding her of their love.
Their comfortable, trusting relationship.
While it may only be a thought of him,
that's all she needs to regain her strength.
She would see him soon;
She would hug him soon;
She would kiss him soon.
"Soon" such a short word,
but such a long time.
In spite of that,
a smile touched her eyes.
Couples become symbols of hope,
telling of the presents she would soon share with him.
Until that time,
she was content thinking of his presence,
because he would soon be near her.

Nature's Liberation

Feeling the winds bouncing beneath me,
my golden hair playfully caresses my cheeks.
The air slightly stings my skin,
but the liberation it brings me is the greatest gift.
Flying above all humans' corrupted creations,
I laugh in mirth,
pitying their version of the world.
Finally the cold gray structures of the cities disappear,
giving way to the glorious green of nature.
Soaring through the air,
I shut my eyes peacefully,
fore I have finally found my haven.
Nature.

Memories

Memories.  It's a simple word, easily defined, yet the power these moments in time that continue to visit us in the present is unbelievable.  A simple act in the present can bring about an onslaught of negative moments.  The already feeble walls of the mind can't bear any more resistance against them.  The stones of the carefully crafted wall begin to crumble one by one, sending the holder of the memories deeper into the swirl of emotions surrounded by the memories.  Memories are are meticulously constructed over years.  They become embellished, construed, biased based on other people's accounts of the same story.  No two human's memories are the same.

I still remember the yelling, the anger, the loud bang of him throwing her up against the wall.  The loud resounding crack of him slamming the door shut.  For the longest time I thought I had created this story, refusing to believe my father could be like that.  But, no, the memory was as real as a representation of reality could be.

I still remember how his rough, long hands felt on my body.  I remember his low chuckle when I told him to stop.  I remember how he tried to sooth me as I tried to get up, continuing his invasion.  I remember the feeling of the tears as he continued.  I remember the feeling of complete solitude, even though someone was in the room down the hall.  People who are passed out drunk aren't too much help when they don't hear your pleas for him to stop.  I remember the feeling of no one being there after it happened.  The feeling that it was completely my fault.  The present is bringing all of these thoughts back to me now.  But, it can be different.  I can be there for her.  She can do something about it.  She is not helpless.  Whereas even today, I am helpless.  Helpless against the emotions that swirl in my head, throughout my body.  The feeling to shut down, shut out everyone.  The feeling of being alone.  Again.  Being twelve years old.  Not understanding what is going on.  That is how I feel even now- Today.  I wish someone was here to hug me and tell me it's all over, but there is no one.  I am here, by myself, I should be strong enough to handle this for not only me, but her.