Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Izzy Nov 2017
Back in ninth grade when I first saw him, before I knew his name, before I knew who he was or who he would become to me. The first thing I noticed was the enthusiasm he spoke with.
I didn’t think he noticed me, even if he showed how much he cared for someone who was basically a stranger.
I didn’t see what he showed everyone else, the long hair and baggy clothes. Someone who didn’t care. I saw this boy who was too intelligent for his own good and could end the world if he so desired to. I saw this boy who found it so funny that I squeaked when poked and did it nonstop.
I stood on the sidelines and listened to this gamer kid who was so caring to his friends even though he picked on them to show it.
In tenth grade, the first thing I noticed were his eyes and how it felt to give him a hug when he asked, telling me he missed me when we sat a desk apart in science.
I didn’t know this kid with long brown hair who I thought I would never see again would turn up in my science class and my heart would beat just a little bit faster.
When I first saw him I saw past what he showed everyone else and even though my head didn’t know it, my heart did and it spent all semester trying to tell me.
I saw this guy who looked like he could care less but was always smiling and laughing and was so interesting to listen to, even if what he was saying was gibberish to me. I saw someone who liked to joke around with his friends.
I saw his smile, his laugh and how much he cared. I really liked when he smiled and the look he would give me when I did something weird.
He cared about his girlfriend and then friend, sometimes he would talk about her. I liked how much he cared.
All this time ago, I didn’t know who I was looking at was the boy I’d lay in bed having a pointless conversation with while my heart screamed at me to tell him how I felt.
I didn’t know that I would look forward to science class, just because of him.
I didn’t know that I’d be unexplainably sad when the semester changed and then oddly happy when I saw his name on the desk beside mine.
I didn’t know this was the guy that I’d have so many firsts with.
I didn’t know that this was the guy who would use my own ring to (jokingly) propose in sophomore year when we were 16 as we walked to fourth period.
Somehow he managed to see me. I still don’t know how though. And 3 years ago, I had no idea who he’d become to me.

When I first saw him, there were so many things I didn’t know and today there are still so many things I don’t know. But one thing I do know is that I love him.
Izzy Oct 2017
I am torn.

Lines have been drawn for me.
Lines for me to exist in.
Lines for me to follow.

My life planned out by society from day one.

As children we were told to color in the lines.
The grown-ups were talking about coloring books, right?

Who knew such a simple instruction could become so sinister.
Who knew it would one day control our lives.

We're supposed to fit in these boxes.
But what if we don't?
Izzy Aug 2017
My King,
At sixteen we have the world at our feet.
We're building our future with unsteady hands.
One day we might run, leaving this little town in the dust.
Hand in hand. Crowns atop our heads.
The two of us against the world, off to build our own castle.
Battles raging around and between us, but we will win them.

One day we will walk through the doors of our castle, our kingdom, our home.

One day our story will be told.
They will tell it.
We will tell it.

To the little princess or prince that fills our castle with the pattering of little feet, beyond contagious laughter, and more mess than we'll feel we can handle.
It will be wonderful, an adventure we face together.
A journey through life, all our own
                                                             ­     Love, your Queen.
Izzy Jul 2017
First Minutes
The discovery sinks in as we spring into action
Adrenaline kicks in, heart pounding, blood rushing.
My mind confusedly putting pieces together.
First Few Hours
Calls are made to paramedics and cops and investigators swarm our house.
Our car goes faster than what is safe as we follow the ambulance as it carried what we would later learn was only her body and a few dedicated paramedics.
A time of death is announced and more tearful calls are made, this time to family and later to friends.
We leave hours later surrounded by a mournful silence.
First Day
We sat on the on the couch in a shocked silence, which was only broken by my calls to her friends, the ringing of the house phone and doorbell.
First Week
The silence was deafening and I had to escape.
So I returned to school after making arrangements with my family for the cremation and shedding my own tears for the first time. I caught the last two classes of the day and began burying myself in my classwork after telling those who needed to know.
First Month
Our own questions were behind every turn as we handled finances, possessions, settling things and celebrating her short life.  
I began to tell more and more of my friends.
Second Month
The pain was still fresh and stinging,
My mother returned to work for the first time.
Third Month
I held back my tears in English.
The play we read reminding me of her and running lines with her the previous year.
Fourth Month
I let it get to me while locked in my room, wishing it was my boyfriend's arms around me instead of my paint-stained jacket as I painted the canvas as black as I was feeling.
Recording my tears for him and watching how he hid his own watery eyes the next day in class as I honored our promise.
Her birthday passed and my mother planted flowers.
Fifth Month
After an uneventful spring break, my dad began staying home from work, unable to handle the weight of his thoughts.
Sixth Month
School ended and summer began and for the first time in what was now fourteen years, I didn't have a sister. I was alone.
Seventh Month
Slowly but surely the pain faded, with the help of scattered therapists, counselors, and mountains of support from family and friends. Summer traditions continued but were never the same.
Eighth Month
The weight of her absence doesn’t rest on my shoulders as heavy anymore.
Ink stains me with her memory. The pain I felt, saw and personified over many pages as we still face it.
My father has returned to work as we each learn to deal with the missing piece of our family in our own ways.
Ninth Month
School begins.
It's my junior year and school is starting for the first time since 3rd grade without my sister. My mother would always take a "first-day" picture, the tradition faded when we attended different schools. Maybe it wasn't so annoying after all.
Tenth Month
It's October, my, our, favorite month. Lost memories run through my head along with missed opportunities. Did we even carve pumpkins last year? Last year we argued about passing out candy but both ended up falling asleep. When was the last time we went to the County Fair? The Mullet Festival? Missed opportunities for silly reasons.
Eleventh Month
The Holiday season is kicking off. Soon it will be Thanksgiving. Her absence is noticeable as I stand amongst my family and celebrate. The only ones who don't ignore it are the little ones, repeatedly asking where she is as the grownups look uncomfortable. I don't know what to tell them.
Twelveth Month
The Holidays are in full swing and I can't help but think of the last one we all spent together. She passed before Christmas. They aren't the same anymore.

One Year
Its hard to believe that a year has passed without her. Her room is the same as if shes just at school. We spent the anniversary doing things she enjoyed, like taking the family dog to the beach and sharing cotton candy.
We haven't moved on, not in the slightest. My mother still cries, I don't think she'll ever stop. But as the days pass I can see how it gets easier and easier for my family to be happy again.
Izzy Jun 2017
He had asked why I often refer to him as a soldier or warrior.
I answered because he had liked something I had previously written and he was- is my soldier. He has bravely faced everything that comes with me, my dark, my light, my chaos, my calm. Our resulting exchange was this:

But I am not your knight in shining armor, do you know why?
No, Why?
"A knight in shining armor is..."
*"... is a man who has never had his metal truly tested."
But a soldier marches into battle time and time again and continues the fight on broken bones covered in blood, sweat, tears and above all passion and loyalty to his cause, his fight, and the ones who fight alongside him.
I don't know who originally said that quote.
Izzy Jun 2017
You can be mad that I lied, but you can't be mad that I didn't tell you.
I am a million and one secrets wrapped only in flesh and blood.
You see the original drafts, the ramblings of my frantic mind, and no one has seen those, other than the trash.
I trust you more than anyone and I've shared the deepest parts of myself with you. You know my secrets.
I'm laid open in ways I've never been before and I'm scared.
I need my secrecy, I revel in it. I live in my darkness.
This is the farthest anyone has ventured into my mind and you've bravely ignored the warning signs posted just behind my eyes and every step along the way. And no one has done that before.
Eventually you'll get stuck on something and maybe run like everyone else has. Please tread carefully, The ground is unsteady, the silence speaks and the dark chaos reigns as king.
The only armor I've ever has against them is the ink stained paper I've wrapped myself in with my pen as my sword.
You've stripped my defenses from me and I feel lost without them.
Maybe you'll stay and fight, the brave and adventurous warrior I've come to know you as.
Maybe you'll run like those before you and leave me to piece my armor back together and ready myself for battle once again.
The ones before, the ones who turned around, the scared and frightened ones, they'd taken a piece here and there, keeping a trinket or two. They'd never braved the darkness of my mind, kept under lock and key, hidden away in caves and underwater, pieces littered along the landscape. You get closer with every word you read and this land fights back.
The warrior has conquered the king, the queen awaits in the castle.
Izzy May 2017
I.    Scared
This is real for me
This is love to me.
And some days I’m scared out of my mind at how genuine this is.
Nothing has ever felt this authentic to me, other than maybe pain.
This is new to me.
You read the stories and love is this all powerful magic and its so **** powerful that it scares me. It scares me that this thing, this emotion, may rip my heart out of my chest and leave it in a million little pieces.
I’m not scared of you,
I’m not scared of us,
I’m not scared of a fight,
I’m not scared of love,
I’m not scared of forever,
And I’m definitely not scared of heartbreak, my heart has known its scars and I’m not afraid of gathering more.
I’m scared of an ending that’s everything but happy,
I’m scared of the strength of my feelings,
scared I’ll let you down,
scared I’ll hurt you,
scared of anything and everything, all my demons coming out to play and every inch of me is screaming run.
I’m scared that I’ll run,
I’m scared of losing you,
of not being enough.
But as scared as I am, I’m willing to fight for this.
For us.
For our forever
Our happy ever after.

II.    Two
Two souls, more different yet similar than most, met while on their own paths.
They continued together for a while, like many others.
A poet and a soldier, each claiming their own hell, living in their own darkness.
Finding comfort in each other’s arms.

III.    Love
How do you measure a relationship?
By the future?
By the arguments?
I’ve always measured it by how far I could see down the road.
And honestly, with some I could see into 20’s or 30’s, but never the end of our road. Those thoughts were foggy, these are too but more clear, everything is blurred but your face, where with them everything but their face was clear.
With them, I saw lives I didn’t want, lives that were comfortably numb. I saw superficial happy endings.
But with you I see my forever.
I see 5 years down the road, chasing dreams
I see 10 years, building a family
I see 15 years, balancing life
I see 40 years, retiring
I see 50 years, walking down random city streets, hands intertwined
I see 60+ years and meeting again someday in another existence  

I see forever with you
I want forever with you.
Next page