DOCTOR FOSTER WENT TO GLOUCESTER
or so the story says. Trot, trot around the puddles and glop that are keeping the roads in disarray. Skittish with its wishes as its tail flips, whips, and swishes; but, a horse is a horse as we all know of course! And there's no doubt this one snorts while behaving like a jack-ass...
IN A SHOWER OF RAIN.
that suddenly came like a cane to inflict pain after behavior causes shame, but one in the same, history won't remember the names of the inconsequential claims to fame who witnessed the humiliation of Long Shanks when...
HE STEPPED IN A PUDDLE
oh screw it! He flew through the air like a rather large flair with wind blowing his hair until...Splash! With a...Crash! And so many people laughed because the great man did try to stand in a puddle as big as a trash can filled with water, mud, and debris...
RIGHT UP TO HIS MIDDLE
and yes, it probably tickled though such things made him fickle about being in such a pickle and so with a few little hand jiggles he was pulled from the slop, where his face really did plop and needed a mop so he could see. Red as can be, for angry was he! Enough! He did roar for humiliation seems to never boar the heartless who try hard to hurt and keep score. So he rode home...
AND NEVER WENT THERE AGAIN!
I'll be the first to admit
I'm really out of shape,
My hair is way too long
And always in my face.
I'm not that tall,
I'm actually really short.
I don't have nice features,
And I'm not good at any sport.
I'm kind of like a black eye;
Nobody wants one.
I can make you smile
I can make you laugh,
I can make you feel wanted,
So you can forget about the past.
I will always be here for you,
Day and night,
You'll never have to raise your voice,
Because we would never fight.
But none of that matters,
At least that's what it seems,
No one really wants
The unattractive me.
Breaking water, diving in with my body, head first.
Rippling seams and leaving stitches unfinished. I dive in to let the purity envelop me. Cleanse me and my pores,
return me to where I started from.
Release me from wars, unopened doors I wished I turned. Forget wounds of battle on my skin.
Open me.cut me open and leave me bleeding. Let my blood sink into the earth until there is nothing left, let me walk this earth for miles and miles, let me feel the pain in my lungs and the hoarseness of
my being escaping from my throat. Let me build a moat around my princess castle and then tear it down. Lightning strike me and rip my particles, rip the matter from me like guns on glass. Crack me and tear me. I will get up again.
I will rise.
And Let me sing,
sing until my prayers are whispers.
Forest water, reflecting green, serenity.
I have dreams of black claws like raven glass closing in, scratching me bare. Howling and deep long nails and witchy eyes cackling like the darkness overlapping. I’m scared of the demons within closing in. I hide from the light, unaware of how I’m blocking out love from my life. Is it a dream or an old queen’s tale? My heart has seen so much and now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge along trying to remain strong when the forces pull and tear the ramshackle down to the ground.
I’ve been breathing and living, seeing so many things and this compilation of stories warms my belly and tears my flesh.The happiness is what breaks me. Suspending the never-ending. I am so close to the grave that I dug for myself but I must keep walking past that linear line that I set for myself. It is lines within circles. So many flows, I thought I chose the whole. Breathe. Pouring myself out into you. I wonder if I give and give it will fade into the soil and the canteen will empty. Melt like water. Feed you and leave me. Is it releasing or is it unhealthy for me to give myself away.
I gave myself away.
I have strewn pieces of myself into everything I have touched but I am afraid that one day there will be nothing left. Nothing left when finally I receive pieces of someone else. Will I take the pieces from them and have nothing left to share. Excuse me, it is not like me to be so dramatic and I am afraid to write things like this because it feels so cheesy except the process of seeking deeper is breaking that boundary and that un-comfortableness. Where did our love go? It existed between the skin and the bones. It was a facade or something else. I am not very sure. Not lust but colour, it was dewy green like steam from a coffee cup in the morning. Or the rain on the window pane while I slept in your arms and refrained from needing you too much, I cannot write about you without tears, write about your skin or your smile, and I am in a confined environment as I write this where such things are not very acceptable. I am hiding on the screen, escaping my heart. I cried this morning because it was all too perfect.
I am cut open I suppose. Like that song “And it was your heart on the line / I really fucked it up this time / Didn't I, my dear?” Mumford and Sons even feels too perfectly imperfect that I laugh at myself and this funny hole I am in. I don’t like the swear word though, sometimes I laugh because it works. The “f” word in that song it just kind of fits. It is like the pathetic-ness and the hilarity, when we slip in mud and are covered in filth when we have nothing left but to cry and to laugh because we are crying because nothing in this world really matters or it matters all too much. Because I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t think anybody does. We just muster our determination and passion and roll with it but still there is an element of unpredictability no matter how routine we have gotten. No matter how far we have fallen from our roots. Excuse me for crying this morning, don’t worry I laughed it off after. I laughed because of life and laughed because I cried, and I cried because I love you.
And now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge on with all my strength. Wisping like whispers caught from the ears of children and passing through the world. Cold like ice on swing sets and little hands clasping them. Red fingers and red noses. Snot on mittens and sharp pain. Winter.
I Wisp like wind in water. I crack like stones of sand and rock. I break like waves on the shores of life. I cry like the trees at night. Howling to the moon. I open when you call me. I close when I’m falling. I hide like children at night. I am under the streetlight, orange, alley cats in shadow homes and grey cement, dead rats, broken bones. My eyes are bare, sunken in the light. I suppose I should muster my might. Find peace beyond my fight. Escape distress. I wish you saw something more. I wish that there was something else. Speeding on.
The 11th of December 2013 that date is today,
Something about the sequence made me ponder away;
What could be the meaning of the numerical order?
So I seek answer read threads and find answers through google.
So it is the final sequential event for another 90 years...
So lets celebrate maybe get married and burst out with happy tears;
It's just numbers now really, in sequence every 90 years, what's the big deal?
It's just another event a human mind creates to talk and believe to offer life a thrill.
So whatever this day means we just live our life like we used to and forget all worries,
For hope never a day fades with faith and will like a fortress, life is a one big numerical series,
Every day is like a test, a survival, a wonder that everyone walks through since the day we born
That each day is crypted with trials ready to overcome and decode, a gift to be unwrap and to be torn...
Sometimes I get into a mood in which absolutely everything is beautiful,
and everything connects to a thousand others
and I could spend hours staring and taking in a succession of beautiful things,
and I end up finding absolutely disgusting things beautiful,
- not so much disgusting things which it's disgusting to find beautiful,
and I don't give a damn.
But I'm terrified to look at myself in the mirror or read anything I've written,
because if I can find such things beautiful but not myself,
then I know I'm really screwed,
and I don't want to know.
August 12, 1993
This is the third diary I have written in
This diary must be famous
So maybe oneday
Someone will hear or at least read my story
By the way my name is Sarah
Weird spelling right?
August 13, 1993
Just heard some bad news...
I can't believe it
16 years old and pregnant!
The "father" is a dead beat
Ran after I said I might be
I can't keep the child
I don't know what to do
August 15, 1993
I wrote my first poem
One of my friends said it would help
I just wrote and wrote
I almost wrote a book
I wonder what I'm going to do with this child
Aborting it would be painful
Giving it up is almost impossible
Having it is unlikely
I have so much going for me
April 20, 1993
Found out one of my friends loves me
He knows I'm pregnant
He said he would help me
He always has a plan
Maybe I can be happy with him
I don't know
I don't want to bring him down
Diary...what should I do?
April 23, 1993
Still no reply?
I forgot I'm asking an inanimate object
To answer a question
I was forced to ask because of my stupidity
I have poor taste in men
I'm now called distastefully
Sarah the 16 year old pregnant whore
My boyfriend is really annoyed with it
I hope I can love him as much as he loves me
April 30, 1993
I cut myself
The girls at school keep harrassing me
I can't take this
I forgot how many weeks I am now
I just want this baby out
I don't want it
It's causing to much stress
Diary...help me please
September 18, 1993
I lost you for a while
Can't believe you were right here
Underneath my bed covered by my favorite shirt
That now I can't wear anymore
I look like a cow
School is horrid
I almost beat one of my teachers with a textbook
He called me "Sahcow"
September 21, 1993
I just got dumped by the man I love
He said I didn't love him enough
That I was wieghing him down
I can't believe this
I haven't stopped crying since 12 last night
Why does everything have to go wrong with me?
Am I that broken?
That big of a fuck up?
September 29, 1993
I have just successfully planned my suicide
The title of this diary says "Diary Of Broken Souls"
It should say "Diary Of Suicidal Souls"
I just read the other 402 other entries
That many people...dead...murdered...by cruelty
Might as well join them
My bullshit is just about the same
October 8, 1993
Halloween is just around the corner
And with it comes my death
No more baby
No more mother bitching
No more father crying at the sight of me
Well the tears will be for a different reason now
I'll write my last entry on Halloween
October 31, 1993
Today is the day
Finally coming to an end
I'll kill this baby first
Swallow a shit load of pain killers
Throw in a couple anti-depressants
Noose is tied just perfectly
I have it hanging over the school entry way
A little memorial for the girls at school
All the students actually
Who have called me names
Criticized me for this shit
Well good bye bitches
Sorry Diary you didn't get to know me
I'll be memorialized in these pages
Somebody will know what it's like
To be 16, pregnant, and depressed from all of it
Running into yet another soft eyes and open lips
Trying to magically feel something more than what exists
Running into yet another guys arms that seem so genuine from afar
He really likes me brought me my 3rd drink tonight
He's tryna tap that...
Intellectual portrait that I have painted of myself
Running into yet another false hope of maybe this one is different
He can't hurt me unless I allow him to
penetrate parts that haven't been discussed
This feels so right
Running into yet another, "your the most special girl I've met" "wouldn't ever hurt you" line
Just to be spoon fed leftovers from
the previous drunken night
Or the alcohol soaked on a pink moist thick tongue
Running into yet another clear dream... (I can see clearer now the rain is gone)
Love songs no longer play because he has taken me to a fantasy land from Saturdays night rerun of a previous session
Picture perfect perfection precious pleasing.
Please don't stop because maybe you have tuned in to the right channel
Running into yet another guys lap saying I will dance for you and only you... And maybe him and only him.
Because words have become so cliche and I no longer can count how many arms have squeezed me firmly but have released quicker.
How many lips have accepted my open invitation to stay the night within
How many eyes I have let pierce my soul but to no avail,
they get what they want and dissolve.
No satisfaction, no guaranteed refunds of that stuff he left with
No mental pictures left of what ifs or possibilities of US being more than just lust
A must of endless considerations and my ridiculous thoughts of actually
Running into the same web of deceit deception.
So many descriptions of how I ran away from myself and have been searching nonstop for the right sensation that can stop the temptations and erase the emptiness.
I feel us slipping
and I can't seem to keep a grip
It's like you're sliding
right through my fingertips
I can still touch you
and feel your warm flesh
But something about us just doesn't mesh
Our connection is becoming a little hazy
I think you're getting a little lazy
We are losing touch
and I miss you so much
I can feel myself falling through the cracks
of my own broken heart
Inch by inch we are losing each other to the dark
I think the bad is starting to out weigh the good
and I'm starting to see nothing where we once stood
Shadows are filling up inside my lonely heart
and I'm trying to find a little spark
A spark of hope, of light, or a fire
to reignite my once strong desire
I can see the sun breaking in your eyes
It's a new day I see it on the rise
and I'm trying to see the good in life
but good things in life are hard to find
This love is killing me
and all I want to know is if I can survive
I should just let you go
But I don't really want too
at least not right now
I know I'm just dragging this out
Because it's inevitable
so why all the doubt?
I just want to know what giving you up
is going to take
Maybe I shouldn't it's easier to just act fake
I've let myself get too far in
How did I let myself get here again?
It's cool, I am strong
But what about my pitiful heart?
You have dreams to chase
and I have a son to raise
you're just a boy and I'm just a girl
we just need to let things unfurl
I've taken all I can take and I can't let this break me down
But it still feels like a part of me is dead and in the ground
I wish our fairytale ending would of came true
but it's time to face the facts...I think it's over.....
and we are through...
Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Rodden
I miss you tonight
the same way I did last night
The jokes we tell
I just miss you
and I can't help but wonder... Do you miss me too?
I had a long day
And I don't even know if yours was ok
I don't know why you haven't called me at work
I go out of my way to be with you
and sometimes it feels I don't get the same in return
I'm kind of upset right now
I know I shouldn't be
I was just hoping you would come stay the night with me
I didn't want to get to this point
The point of no return
But obviously I have so now I don't want to get burned
Little things hurt me
And I'm sure you don't understand
Just like I don't get what it's like to be a man
I try to see things from your point of view
Why don't you do the same for me too?
I don't like to be disappointed with the things that you do
I don't like being down and confused
I just want to talk, I want to talk to you
But sometimes I don't know how
So I lock it all up and don't make a sound
I've tried to be numb
and not feel a thing
I try to ignore all the little things that sting
Sometimes I guess my emotions just take over
I don't try to rag on you
Or make you feel bad
I just don't always know how to make you understand
I don't know how to be ok with certain things
I just want you here not in my dreams
Maybe I'm selfish and don't want to share
I don't want to lose you
But scared to death I will
I don't really know what I'm trying to say
I probably won't even send this
So it don't matter anyway....
Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Rodden
Come to see him
when you have no right to
Come play daddy for a day
does that make you feel good?
Run and tell your friends
that you're a father
because you like the title
Put on a happy face and smile from ear to ear
Talk like you know him
for everyone to hear
Talk like you have always been there for him
Hold him as if he would recognize your touch
Watch him through your lieing glazed eyes
and hug him way too much
Kiss him and tell him how much you care
Tell him you love him before you disappear
Turn your back and walk away like he never meant a thing
Tell him your his daddy
when he don't even know your name
I see you swell with pride when you call him your's
when you play with him like you're the one he adores
You're the definition of fake
You're a lie and nothing more
and your son knows not who you are
So tell him that you miss him
And that you'll see him soon
Lie to him again and again
Make empty promises
that will never come true
Laugh at all the silly things you watch him do
Act like your something big
Like your doing something good
Does it make you feel like more of a man?
Does this feel good to you?
Hug me before you leave and tell me that you're sorry
Hold me like you really care and
Tell me you still love me
but don't dare look me in the eye
Because you know I'll be able to see nothing but true lies
You're a drug addict
A lowlife in it's truest form
So go back to your shameful life with your whore
light it up and take another hit
Let it burn and try to let yourself forget
Wallow in your self pity
and hang your head real low
Cry until you drown yourself because
You won't see us anymore
The damage you have done can never be erased
So live with the few memories you have of him
that are burnt inside your head
then close your eyes and sleep with your pride and regret
You have made this bed and in it you will have to lye
Waste yourself away to nothing
as you slowly dissipate
You are nothing to him
and you're nothing to me
so become more dead to us as you take your final hit!
Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Rodden