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He claimed another life today,
That horrible thing called Death.
He took their beating heart away,
He took their final breath.
My heart is empty, fleeting
But at least it's slowly beating
It is broken, lonely, ending
But it's on its way to mending
Isabella Mar 25
Change is supposed to be beautiful.
The setting sun.
The lovely butterfly.
The wind forcing waves in the water.
So why does it feel so ugly?
A sick feeling in my chest when I imagine who you have become.
Not because I don't love you.
But because I can't even tell who 'you' are anymore.
Are you the smiles and laughs,
The kindness and humility,
The bright eyes and fun spirit?
Or are you the stealing and cursing,
The wrong choices and carelessness,
The broken promises again and again...
You have always been spontaneous,
Always hoping for new experiences,
But life has sent you bad examples,
And now your heart has changed.
Your soul has changed.
You have changed.
Is it unfair of me to give up?
Or is it worse for me to stay?
I wish I knew, for this
Plagues me almost daily.
Years ago I pushed you away
Because I noticed
You changing.
But then I realized it was much worse
To lose you.
I can't tell if I still
Feel the same.
The only thing I'm certain of
Is that
You changed.
Isabella Mar 24
The sky was an ocean, clouds of foam washing against the mountains.
The sun was a golden drop of honey, casting light upon the emerald grass.
A pond lay still in the field of green, motionless and peaceful.
Calm was the water, and silent was the breeze.

One day when the sun was barely peeking over the mountains and the field was full of an early mist, the wind carried a single drop of water to the center of the emerald meadow.
The droplet fell into the grass and sunk deep into the earth.
For days of sun and nights of moonlight, the water and soil bonded to create roots.
The roots grew stronger by each morning, until one day a bit of a stem rose from the ground.
Hidden by the tall grass, it was still unseen.
The sun nor the moon could see what was slowly growing just before their gaze.
While the sky changed colors countlessly and the mountains woke again and again, something was slowly rising from the grass.

Soon it grew taller than the emerald field, and indeed the sun and moon did see it.
They awed over the astonishing beauty of the small flower.
A body of green and a head of white, the flower stood proud in the center of the meadow.

As the sun was retiring and the moon was beginning to cast its eerie light, the clouds grew violent and a storm arose.
The sky was dark and rain fell.
The grass swayed in the crying wind but the flower did not wilt.
It held still, its roots in fact digging deeper into the earth.

The next dawn was quiet and dreary.
The sun was dimmer, the grass was duller, the pond was still resting, and even the mountains looked asleep.
The white flower was seemingly untouched and even more bright than it was prior the storm, morning dew resting on its delicate petals.

Later the same day, a soft wind came.
Though it was a small gust, it unexpectedly swept right under the flower and pulled it from the ground.
It was carried with the breeze and dropped gracefully into the pond.
It drifted down the river, floating peacefully in the blue water.
Then a current pulled it down, and the flower swirled down to the bottom of the pond, never to be seen by the sun or the moon again.

Many sunrises later, a drop of water was carried by the wind to the center of the field.
When it fell to the earth, it sunk into the soil and felt the familiar roots of a flower.
The water built upon the roots and eventually, in the field stood a single flower.
I stumbled upon a story I wrote in 2018...
Isabella Mar 23
My eyes are bleeding salty tears
Stream down my cheeks and to my ears
All at once emotions flood
To my salty pool of blood
Isabella Mar 23
If we loved each other,
Pushing differences aside,
We'd accept each other,
So people wouldn't hide.

All our colors would stand out,
Instead of just blend in.
Our world would be beautiful,
Instead of "Full of Sin"

Respect our neighbors,
Hold their heart.
And keep it from,
Falling apart.

Love and peace,
Let go of greed.
Love and peace,
Is all we need.
Isabella Mar 23
Freedom of speech,
Freedom of thoughts.
Freedom to believe,
Freedom to not.
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