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Gabrielle H Jun 2013
Definition # 1: Being wanted, but not necessarily needed.
I was born on the coldest day of '93,
three months too early
and
three pounds too small.

That sounds like a death sentence,
but it's not – it was more of a:
“Here's what life is like,
now earn the right to live it.”

And I passed the test.
Oh, I passed with flying colors
and surprised everyone,
especially my parents.

They didn't allow themselves
to be too optimistic, see;
If they were pessimistic and wrong,
it was a pleasant surprise in the end.

Being pessimistic and right
always felt like a well earned stroke
to their over-inflated egos,
and they liked that more.

Still, they brought me home
and welcomed me – I was the first,
the only, the most important;
I was the VIP in the household.

My grandmother, a staunch Catholic,
came to see me, her first grandson,
and kissed me soundly on the forehead.
She proclaimed a prayer over me, then:

“Ah! Our Father who art in Heaven,
This baby is truly a blessing from You,
and may You bless him ever
more!
Amen!”

Grandmother, my only words to you now
are these:
I wish you had prayed more fervently for me,
and stuck that blessing on me more firmly.

Definition # 2: Crippling kindness through actions.
Her name was Katy.
She was eighteen when I was six,
and she crossed the gap between us
as easily as Jesus passed over the waters.

She claimed she was my babysitter -
3 to 9 PM, Mondays through Fridays -
for three incredibly long years,
but don't they take *care
of the kids they watch?

It's almost shocking to think of how
she peeled me apart back then
with fingers pale as my face
and a smile sweet as a tangerine.

(I thought it was love. I was wrong.)

I was misguided by her gentleness,
the way she held me in her arms
and gave me baths when I had played outside.
My mother never did that, after all.

But her fingers strayed too far
and she snatched something from me
that I have never recovered,
and now never will.

I would say it was my innocence,
but that's not true.
That went to rot long ago,
and I do not miss it.

No, it felt more tangible than that,
a feeling I had, one of trust,
one that only disappeared
after I realized what had happened.

Now I am left to side-eye people
and wonder about their true intentions;
all because someone named Katy
kissed me on the cheek, then went a little farther.

Definition # 3: Absolutely nothing at all.
It's amazing how one experience
affects the rest of your life,
but it does. Irrevocably,
each happening is a dropped pebble in water.

I wish it wasn't that way,
because there are things I want to erase
in order to move forward,
things that require moving backwards first.

That's never easy, going back to the things
that are in the past for a reason,
when facing them is a task you're not sure
you're really up to.

I know how that is,
how the moving forward feels like stumbling,
like stepping blindly in the darkness
and missing a step.

You fumble for something to hold onto,
and your heart panics,
gasping desperately while you flail;
I know. I know.

That's how I ended up kissing little Ann
in fourth grade – Katy was gone from my life by then
and I thought this other girl could give me back
that vital something I was lacking.

She gave it her all, truly, with that plucky mouth of hers;
from the warm depths of her trembling heart came a kiss,
but I defied the laws of physics then which state that heat
is energy transferred from one interacting object to another –

I felt nothing.

Definition # 4: Keeping painfully close.
Therapy should have been the option
when I told my parents that ‘Katy’ and ‘molester’
were the same thing, after I looked it up.
But it wasn’t.

My parents opted for isolation and
careful watching; if they could keep
an eye on me at all times,
they could keep me safe.

This was their pessimism talking,
leading them to think that a therapist would
**** them dry of their money and do absolutely
nothing.

Maybe they were scared of something else, too -
of molesters and rapists sitting outside,
just waiting to get their grubby hands on me
and take me away, to a place they couldn't follow.

Either way, their decision wasn't a cure,
it didn't help. Home-schooled at eleven, I lost sight
of how the world moved around me,
and all I knew was the inside of my house.

What kept me grounded were the little things:
snow days, which spoke of beauty and temporary freedom,
books, which promised a world away from the one I knew,
and the goodnight kisses from my parents.

Definition # 5: The right to take what you want.
I escaped homeschooling
when I entered ninth grade,
and the freedom I found there
was intoxicating. Addicting, even.

I’d been so out of touch with the world
that I decided the whole world
was now my friend – I fell in love
with everyone I met, at least once.

Opening myself up was surprisingly easy;
then again the only things I really opened
were my pants zipper and the pubescent hearts
of girls, always readily available.

There was the first girl, Caroline –
she kissed me everywhere, and all I did
was take everything in return – and then
there were a hundred others like her.

I knew Amys and Rachels and Sarahs,
but I never knew another Katy.
There was only one of those in my mind,
and she pushed all the others away in the end.

By eleventh grade I was in pieces,
dragging myself through each day
for no reason other than
to find another girl to claim as mine.

Definition # 6: Wrong, wrong, all wrong.
In the end,
I had it coming –
and though I don’t remember it all,
I remember enough –
rough beard pulled across skin
in a horrible mockery of kisses;
all the messy memories of Katy torn out,
like tangles pulled out with a boar hair’s brush;
the sound of something breaking,
though that might have just been me;
a ragged whisper of “Your uncle loves you, you
know that, right? This is me showing you how much.”
and finally, a piece of me I never
offered, flung far, far
                         a
                      w
                  a
                     y.
That’s all I remember,
and that’s more than I ever want to remember.

Definition # 7: Saving grace kisses.
Silence became my hiding place
in the year that followed,
along with a deep darkness
that I drowned in every night.

Where I was once confident
and a “ladies man,”
I was no longer; some experiences
ruin all the ones following.

This is how I suffered –
quietly, painstakingly, always.
I let no one in and no one out,
not even myself.

That is, until I was found out.
He was the same age as me,
but it felt like he was years
ahead of me, experience-wise.

That's how he knew -
from one sufferer to another,
we found something in common -
and that's how I redefined love, one last time.

It took three years of high school for me to step up
to the podium, clear my throat, shuffle some papers,
and mutter into the microphone, barely above a whisper:
“You know, maybe I was wrong about love.”

And maybe God did show up in the end,
in between his eyelashes and the gap in his teeth,
there to be the saving grace for a poor sinner
like me, who messed up love for far too long.

Definition # 8: Absolutely everything at once.
Recovery is a long, winding road,
one that I wanted to leave a long time ago –
if you must know, I’m still on it, though
I almost succeeded in leaving it once.

But there are almost always people
who will make you reconsider,
and decide that maybe jumping off the roof
is an act for another day, a better day.

And there are people who know how important
listening is, and that’s all they do: just listen.
I underestimated how powerful it is,
knowing someone cares enough to do that.

And there are other people who know where
a kiss goes, and where a hand should be placed,
and how to make the kiss a band-aid,
and the hand a life saver thrown out in churning waters.

There are others still that know what to say,
even when you don't. The words come easy,
and they reassure, they heal, they put you back together -
maybe not in the same way, but it's still good.

I know there will be scars, and there will be reminders
that all is not right in the world, of course,
but if you find a person who can listen,
or who can save lives with their mouth,
or who can find the right words,
you’ll probably do just fine in the end.

After all,
love is not just an action – it’s an experience.
I am simultaneously displeased with this and overjoyed at the place that it has ended up at, finally. I hope you find something to enjoy about it.
Brian O'Connor Oct 2013
The chorus of Katy Perry's song "unconditionally" is written in the future tense. "I will love you unconditionally." This implies that current circumstances preclude love. In other words, her love is subject to conditions.

She goes on to suggest "open up your heart and let it begin."
In other words, her love will become available if and when the subject decides to receive and/or reciprocate it. This sounds like the opposite of unconditional love.

She also repeats many times "there is no fear now." Irregardless of whether she is referring to herself or the subject of her affection, it sounds like there is in fact a lot of fear insecurity and reluctance on both sides. Perhaps this was supposed to highlight the wishful thinking of a person in this situation. Perhaps this whole song is a sardonic analysis of unhealthy, obsessive, unrequited love and how difficult it is to be objective under these conditions. Or maybe Katy Perry doesn't care that her young female fan base will listen to this song and see nothing unreasonable about it. Or maybe it's like the movie Shrek where it's fun for the kids but also has some elements that only adults will understand. Maybe Katy Perry is a gifted lyricist allowing millions of people with different amounts of life experience to listen to her songs and all hear a different message. Maybe the apparent banality of her music actually allows it to function as a sort of mental mirror, forcing people to confront their inner most thoughts. Maybe that's why her music is so popular, because everyone hears it as a harmonious duet between Katy Perry and themselves. Maybe Katy Perry is like a cool kid that's introducing us to ourselves, telling us that we're cool too. Maybe, all of her listeners, whether fans or not, have been enriched by her music.

Or maybe it's just ****** pop that has been marketed very effectively.
I know that this isn't a poem. When someone creates a website called www.hellodisjointedlatenightramblings.com I will post it there.
Aaron LaLux Feb 2017
I Make Art,

and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,

I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,

sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,

who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,

forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,

true true,

and who’s the Crew dude?

It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,

we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,

shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,

an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,

top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?

See,

I Make Art,

and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,

I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,

sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,

who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,

forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,

true true,

and who’s the Crew dude?

It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,

we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,

shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,

an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,

top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?

See,

I Make Art.

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Mateuš Conrad  Mar 2019
7,254
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
.how did the political "debate" ever become surmount to include musicians? from what i've seen? of the KEXP radio session...  Ashish Vyas had the most fun from the session... i always admired the bass players more than those ****-offs running out of rhythm guitar sessions... bass, a tier above the drums... masturbator-grand-master-soloist... i guess this is one of those nights where i drink more than i write... elephant's ******* choking me to come... oh well... not even a Decalogue will save me... the political art is no art to begin with, curtains... all i'm seeing if curtains... and households filled with retired personel... and curtains... curtains but not blinds... it's abhorrent to have to listen to music with hushed bass guitar... notably metallica... apart from devil's dance and... where's the bass guitar? the rhythm guitar section overpowers the music... fine fine, have your solo *******, but don't silence the bass guitar with the rhythm guitar, i need to hear the drums translated via the bass guitar into the rhythm guitar... solo guitar and vocals all you want... it's like... the lessons to be learned from jazz, when all the fire prime instruments are allowed to solo... went, "missing"... i need the bass, man... frantic bass & drum genre type of music will not do lollipops for me... what was the alternative? dub-step? well... vex'd & distance... burial... who were the others? i don't remember... don't make me cite skrillex: white privelege man! yeah... at least with rabbit teeth missing, doing that well known party trick! i don't like bands that have a knack at an over-emphasis of the rhythm guitar, who neglect the bass guitar... it's so counter the jazz-inheritance... tool: grand bass, red hot chilli peppers, silverchair... i need that smoothing out layer of sound that manifests itself in a bass... a layer of sound just below the rhythm guitar and a tier above the base (not bass) of the african drum borrow... bāß... base (not bass)... yes, it's not supposed to look pretty: a phonetic antithesis... as most "things" in english...

             mind you... did i mention how heidegger
has a foot in the door?
       oh... i didn't? did i?
     the reflexive and the reflective quadratic...
the reflex of conscience "vs."
the reflectiveness of consciousness...
       heidegger:
                  language - only if speech has acquired
the highest univocity of the word does it become
strong for the hidden play of its essential
   multivocity (as withdrawn from all "logic"),
of which poets and thinkers alone are capable,
in their own respective modes and their own
directions of sovereignty.

  of the few lyrics i've entertained these passing
"days"?
             the black keys: lonely boy -
              i got a love that keeps me waiting...
borrowing from Kafka i guess:
      in that case, i’ll miss the thing by waiting for it.
   no?
   guess there's no "oops" where these words
come from...
              
    with the "passive" circumstance of the faculty
of memory...
                two tiers of memory:
the reflexive memory type,
the scholastic rubric type...
  1 x 4 = 4, a + b + a +c + u + s = instrument =
counting... etc.,
            that's the reflexive memory type...
a scholastic rubric...
      dyktando...
but memory also occupies
the reflective parameters...
          which involve personality...
a sort of memory dissociated from schooling,
and more, associated with:
disinhibiting any chances of succumbing
to dementia's grinding machine
of the mortal circus...

  the reflexive memory storage bank is
the buffer...
the "placebo": nay... the safety mechanism...
but... too much education,
too much pointless education,
and the erosion of the reflective memory
storage bank: this is not a buffer,
this is not a something equipped with
a "safety mechanism"...
        given that a self is perpetuated
within the confines of
a constant conflict with the "self"...
   a and italics / the and "ambiguity commas"...

well, there's always a place to start...
i find of like philosophy as being
a rigour associated with a satisfactory
form of vocab.,
       namely?
i can use the associated words bound
to a sentence with confidance...
unlike a ****** fiction writer,
sometimes dabbling into loan words
from a thesaurus, to, invoke:
an intelligence superiority...
  don't worry...
  when people lend themselves
to use a thesaurus, having exhausted
their adjective knowledge... it shows...

come on... a background in chemistry nouns?
3,5-methylhexane... you think?
that's the remains of a saxon past in english...
in chemistry...
germans spell like dr. faustus to begin with,
they, compound...
        the remains of a germanic past in
the current state of english shrapnel still
lives... in chemistry...
        hydrocarbons...
                  usually met with a hypen:
hydro-carbons...
       siebentausendzweihundertvierundfünfzig
(7,254)...
well, very german: what a waste of not employing
punctuation marks (', -) when it came
to the caterpillar 189, 819:
methionylthreonylthreonylglutaminylarginyl...isoleucine,

Me­thionylthreonylthreonylglutaminylarginyltyrosylglutamylserylleucy­lphenylalanylalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyllysylgluta­mylglycylalanylphenylalanylvalylprolylphenylalanylvalylthreonylle­ucylglycylaspartylprolylglycylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylserylleu­cyllysylisoleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylgly­cylalanylaspartylalanylleucylglutamylleucylglycylisoleucylprolylp­henylalanylserylaspartylprolylleucylalanylaspartylglycylprolylthr­eonylisoleucylglutaminylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucyl arginylalanylphenylalanylalanylalanylglycylvalylthreonylprolylala­nylglutaminylcysteinylphenylalanylglutamylmethionylleucylalanylle­ucylisoleucylarginylglutaminyllysylhistidylprolylthreonylisoleucy­lprolylisoleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparagin­ylleucylvalylphenylalanylasparaginyllysylglycylisoleucylaspartylg­lutamylphenylalanyltyrosylalanylglutaminylcysteinylglutamyllysylv­alylglycylvalylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylaspartylvalylpr­olylvalylglutaminylglutamylserylalanylprolylphenylalanylarg inylglutaminylalanylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvalylal­anylprolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleuc…

or just read the end of james joyce's ulysses
or jean-paul sarte's iron in the soul...
you do have to insert shrapenl punctuation
into this word...

but these are the last remains of the english language
being associated with a germanic origin:
compounding words...
             esp. in chemistry...
                

as any drunk would state,
to suffice...

    what was it that the luftwaffe
prescribed for the night raids
on London?

   and what did isis fighters
be prescribed?

    amphetamines?
n'oh!
   (minus the extended omega:
oooooo enough time
for a katy perry song,
an afternoon shower,
a slap in the face,
and then a few punches,
hey, jerking off became
boring)...

   so the british,
and a few polacks doing their
r.a.f. bit beat the germans
because?
   oh... **** no...
they were ingesting
an impediment factor,
durg, ****,
drunk, numb-skulled...

    we're talking counter
measure to the "enchanced"
mensch...
    high on amphetamines...
insomniac, but still going...
i guess the loci of
the amphetamine adventure
had to relocate to the anti-ego
focus of the phallus
in the variation of viagara...

****...
i care more for my giggles
and a friar tuck physiognomy...
seriously...
   it's more important than mere
gymnastics of
a freudian "metaphor"...
  ha ha...
   i guess conversation is
also allowed...
   try keeping that up...
given that most men are
******* into a solipsism...

     date nights... m'ah ah ha ha ha...
i figured that i don't
need french intellectuals to
redefine absurdity,
or german philosophers
to "redefine" existentialism,
i just needed to leech
off an nativistic english
"public"...

                      what the ruling
class spews:
   i reinterpret...
                  simple, 1 + 1 = 2...
crux, numbers,
   bounce back...
echo...
     compliment to the language...
as i stood in the shower thinking...
well isn't modern gaming
slightly "ingenious"...
money piggy...

or... reversed...
    provided the unlimited time
of experience...
no constraints,
just a game within a game,
like sims 3: making a sim
play a video game...
wormhole paradox
      and a brain shattering moment,
a jolt,

         these modern "free" games?
well... at least if you
do not invest in them,
are... games mostly associated with
time...
time is the game...

   whoever gets ****** into
the money laundering schemes
of these games,
forgot to read the cheat walkthroughs
akin to final fantasy VII,
because of homework,
and... Saturday mornings.

   **** air guitar:
here's to air drumming to posit
a point...

          the allies drunk their pint
of whiskey, slightly debilitated,
without the circumstance of feeding
a feeling of superiority,
the germans over-inflated
their superiority complex with
amphetamines...

         ergo?
    i'm either proper drunk, or just plain dumb,
or... it's related to listen, repeat,
listen, repeat: katy perry
  (sucker for POP!)....

      never mind...

games used to be fun,
games used to lead to a completion,
tenchu, that was fun,
final fantasy VII...
but this current,
money-sucker of an experience?
well... sure...
now games have reached
an anti checkmate conundrum
which it is...
because, the games are "free"...

           apparently time,
is perceived as a non-commodity...
tell that to someone stuck
in traffic...
      time: the "elder" flimsy
              construct of relativism...

try not giggling
while exchanging whislting to
either the british grenadier march song,
and the french la marseillaise...

   it's like eating pork liver with onions
fry funny...
    or at least a stew of chicken
hearts... tight tender little *******...

but modern gaming is just that...
ingenious counter measure
to the old school variation
of gaming,
    games... without fiction,
games, without script...
    continued perpetuation
of engagement "syndrome"...

     thank god,
i'm pretty sure that if i went beyond
owning a PS1,
i wouldn't have spotted this,
and have a narrative subsequently,
for the worth any sort
of compromise...

ergo? i drink...
   eh... i need to dumb down...
it wouldn't be fair otherwise...
it's not so easy,
to acquire a culture,
a psychology,
a mentality,
   and then...
     to ****... (grimmace, burp,
         snigger) it all away...

**** me, the flute always
gets me...
          i mean...
every time i hear that flute...
my feet at rambling,
itching to tap along...

   well of course it wasn't
the ******* jazzy clarinet,
was it?!
  tell that to the broad
who perfect a *******...
see if she comes back
as smart,
as smart to comply with
the intricacies
of playing, the ******* clarinet.

p.s.
aud lang syne: the only song,
of all time...
shakespeare seems
pale by comparison,
"side-note"...

          broad vs. brode,
******* giggles in the afternoon.
I was working at the Postal Service
Part time, answering letters
When one for Santa caught my eyes
I could make this kids life better
I read the letter, held it close
I couldn't promise gifts and stuff
But, I read the **** thing fifteen times
And at that point, I'd had enough

Dear Santa Claus, the letter read
My name is Katy Green
I hope this Christmas is the best
That you have ever seen
I want to let you know I'm scared
You won't find us Christmas Eve
We are living in a trailer now
But, Santa...I still believe

We lost our house and all our stuff
When we got wiped out by a storm
We had to move to trailer town
And it's not easy keeping warm
There's Mum and Dad, and my sisters
All in this trailer built for two
So don't go where we were last year
No matter what you do

I put the letter in my shirt
Without a second thought
I'd be fired in a heart beat
If I ever did get caught
I went home after work that day
Pulled the letter, showed my spouse
My Christmas gift to them this year
I was gonna find that house

I started calling neighbors
Got my friends involved as well
And told them to get others
As many folks as they could tell
We were in the countries center
They were stuck out on the coast
We were going to bring Christmas
Just like the Holy Ghost

We put the letter in the paper
Gifts came in from shops and stores
I would come home after working
There'd be gifts outside my door
We started out with eight trucks
We figured that would do the trick
Eight trucks led by a madman
By, the way...my name is Nick

We had five days until Christmas
To get this load to where they were
We had toys and clothes and gift cards
We had no frankincense or myrrh
We had trucks just full of tires
In case we broke down on the way
There was nothing that would stop us
We'd be there on Christmas Day

Each city that we passed through
Our convoy grew in size
The police just let us roll on
They could not believe the size
Our line of trucks was bigger than
Any that I'd seen on the road
And each truck was fully packed up
Each one had a full load

The plan was nearly perfect
Two days and we would be there
We would fix up their old house
Where others wouldn't dare
We would not only bring them Christmas
We would give them back their house
And we would do it all in silence
Like that poem and that sleeping mouse

Our convoy found the township
And we did the best we could
We ripped the house asunder
And then rebuilt it with new wood
One letter set this movement
Of Christmas love and cheer
In mothion for one family
That as yet, weren't even here

We put lights up and got ready
Found a tree and made it right
When the gifts were all delivered
The house was quite a sight
We went out to the trailers
Just the drivers and no press
This was our Christmas present
Started by a child...who'd have guessed

I knocked upon the trailer
All the trucks lined up the way
We still had twenty four hours
Until it would be Christmas Day
Katy stood before me
With her mother in the back
I stood waiting on the doorstep
Dressed in red with a large sack

As soon as Katy saw me
She new that Santa Claus was here
That he'd seen her letter
And was here with Christmas Cheer
When her mum saw all the trailers
Lined on both sides of the road
She said to me "Dear Santa"
Where are all the trailers stowed

I told them of the letter
And we got them all outside
It didn't take too much convincing
That we would be going for a ride
When we turned up on their crescent
And we started for their place
Each one of them was crying
Tears were streaming down their face

The house was lit up brightly
The trees were lit up too
The house was their big present
Everything inside was new
The parents stood and wondered
While the kids just went on in
They asked us why we did it
It just took a letter to begin

We made Christmas for this family
We brought a Convoy across the land
Every one who heard about us
Pitched in to lend a hand
We may not quite be Santa
But, we helped him with his load
And next year again at Christmas
There'll be a Convoy on the road
J Arturo Nov 2013
it's been a while since I wrote "a day in the life" or even
those little diatribes about the girls I like
but tonight the keys on my keyboard feel shorter, somehow
more eager to go down
and I'm tired
but it's good to write.

I'll start with monday I guess because that's when today started
I don't know how I keep this up and survive, but
I'm pretty sure I've been sleeping three nights a week for
months now.
it's like... haha... a year after polyphasing I need to make up for lost time.
Monday was Dana's parents ("parental") anniversary, it says in
the pink striped box, on the week view, of my calendar
I don't remember getting up but I started the clock at 10am sharp with
"remove sets and 5 easy steps from current"
no, never mind, I remember it now
(I checked my texts)
Damian invited me to breakfast, Tuneup, I said 8:45
he said he'd be there earlier. I got there at 8:30, before him
and sat in the back room. read the cached news items on my iPad. ate
a breakfast burrito with bacon, smothered, green
because I didn't want him to see me eating, again,
a burrito with the chili inside.
but he sat in the other room with… someone I can't remember
(I heard them, grabbed my coffee and switched seats)
he had kids, though. so we talked about kids. and they talked about kids
I don't really care about describing work any more.

Dana's mad at me, now, definitely– if it's 10am on Monday
It may have started last night… I don't know. She's mad because I work all day
and she has off
not that I know what we'd do to celebrate.
I went to Northern New Mexico College… impressed Sandy... Sandy something.
Impressed Damian by impressing Sandy, and as we drive back from Española
I realize that he's somehow grown into a larger part of my life than I thought would happen
and I'm almost wondering now if
when we leave from here
Dana will be enough to fill it.

It had snowed over the weekend, the mountains above Santa Fe were red with blood and the
valley spread out beneath us was white like… "white people", and it was (I think, should have been)
dark by the time I got home.

Dana had cleaned everything… and she never cleans everything, but she was so mad
and I was mad. hell. I was mad. because I don't want to be this person either
I mean, of course I do
can we ever be anyone, but who we want to be?
but more than this person I wanted to be somebody who suffers, and suffers for something good
and I knew that I could righteously suffer for this trip and for Damian and not have to suffer
for whatever person I might be afraid of becoming.

So when I told her I was going to work all night, she was even more upset and then we were
leaving for her christmas party but I realized that I have no interest in Starbucks or
the people she works with and she had no interest in me right then so I told her I would stay and
I guess at least she only texted me three or four times furiously.

and I… worked. I could tell you how. but I don't care.
and she came home. mad.
but Jones and Katy came over later, it was my idea
and I tried to install my new electronic sensor gadget while they three
sat on the bed and read poetry
(Katy and Jones had broken up earlier that day)

and after they left… at maybe three, Dana was being nicer to me
and I held her some, and we made out, but I
worked
but maybe, this time, it was a little more ok.

I went to breakfast, again
went to Patricia's, felt sad.
Came home, again. drove Dana to work, again.
Checked Ryan's mail box to see if I'd missed our delivery.
spent an hour and a half on Skype with Jeff, Connor listened...
I want to say admiringly

and then we took more adderall and started writing code and things got
a little fadey for a few hours, but I was ok because I am always ok and Connor
is really good at this, really– I mean. Connor is really good. and I want him to be happy.
and to try and tell him this I bought him burgers at five star (in Devargas, where we saw Todd)
and offered to give him my car.
we dropped off Katy's phone at Connor's house and came back here, took more drugs and tried to write but
it's getting over our heads now, and I'm feeling soft and strange
but soon Dana is off work and she seems, even, happy now
as we drive to Ben Sobol's birthday, where I gave him a book
and allowed myself to entertain, for a few minutes, the thought that Ryan might come to Lima. but we had to
come home

because I know I might be tired by now, know I was once before.

and tomorrow there is so much to do.

but sleep wouldn't come and I started writing my thoughts out, about instagram and privacy
and, to Damian, about whether compiling .less was worth it in the long run
and, thinking, who will argue with me like this when santa fe is done?
and then Dana and I had *** and now is the part where I sleep so hard it hurts but I keep thinking and it feels nice instead.
and so it's four am now, and I write.

and write. caught up on time.

still trying to catch my breath, from the ***– I've had a whole pack of cigarettes today, haha, maybe I'm
suffering myself to death
but mostly it doesn't even hurt, I just can't breathe, and my heart races to break free of my chest
(to go where it will be better kept).

so I wrote this because I looked down at my feet on the berber carpet lit by the rope light under our bed and I was afraid
that I might never again know what it was like to look down at something like that,
soft, orange, warm. home.
and with Dana, falling asleep to my left.


we leave for lima two weeks from today.
I told Ryan last night that it's because it's too easy here, because everything's been done
but it's a cruel thing to say… I think… when no one has it easy here, nobody has what they want
in fact it seems like almost everyone, not just here, spends most of life trying to get this
while we see our satisfaction only as an imperative to throw it away.
but.
hey. I guess I said I'd
like to die a poet
and now it's looking that way.

and I guess the reason I keep standing outside, the reason I texted Rachel from Danny's porch is that I've always
left every place with a plan to come back to
all those Rachel's fire escapes.
but I've never yet looked back, and certainly never gone home.
so the question, as I see it now is:
am I always going forward because I've always been running away?
or is it just impossible to go back to where you came?

because I am happy here. and this, for the first time, does not feel like an escape
so I'm scared it will turn out like one anyway.
From almost a year ago today
Geno Cattouse Jan 2014
I fell in love when I looked at the screen into Katy Jurado's eyes.
Try it sometime I dare you.

He broke the mold when he formed the lips and sculpted the hips.

Painted the lashes on
Katy Jurado's eyes.
Hollywood missed out on Katy.
Shari Forman Mar 2013
… “Ready Scarlett; one, two, two and a half, three,” said dad looking as proud as ever.

It was my eighteenth birthday, the one and only year that I finally would graduate from High School. The ecstatic moment when I get my diploma and the rush I would get from wanting to rapidly pursue my career. I knew that I’d surely get a scholarship in life science, all about animals. The one and only thing that blockaded my chances of having a future life was me having to suffer from diabetes and few heart problems. Other than that, I was in for all new surprises.

“Scarlett Perkins, would you now gracefully make your way up for your diploma.”

The principal of the school should’ve spoken louder so people could hear, but when I smiled, he got a warm feeling and smiled right back. I know I’m not supposed to make a speech or even say anything, but meaning I’m officially finished with high school and by law, allowed to live on my own, I thought I’d say something that my family would never forget.

“Thank you Principal Williams.” “I will always strive to improve on what I struggle with the most. I am proud of myself as an honor student and will always think positively. Whether it’s finding a cure for my heart problems, leaving my best friends behind to let them pursue their careers, or finding someone to love and to cherish for the rest of my life; preferably Jewish and good looking…

Audience laughs

“I will work up to my very best and even further if possible. Thank you all for your time.”

Audience claps and cheers me on.

“Well, time to go to sleep ladies and gentleman, as the day is officially now over.” “I’m really proud of you Scarlett. You sure have the guts to get up there and give a fantastic speech, you see, I have barely any guts left; kids beating me up in your grade, but overall, I’m good.”

All I could do at that point was listen and smile at his humorous jokes.

It was a long car ride home with the window ajar and my mom having to stop short at every yellow light. It is just her thing now a day’s. My brother, James, was wearing his usual, yet casual, short-sleeved shirt with coterie shorts.

I had to open the window fully as if the humidity increased
about ten percent in the last few minutes. My graduation gown made me sweat even more and feel much overheated. My mom was wearing her new, loose fitting blouse with jean shorts. I would have to admit, my dad looked rather cool with his dark shades on even though it looked as if it was impossible to see through them.

“I’m very proud of you Scarlett. Hey, who knew that such a bright girl could make a speech like that,” said dad.

“Thanks dad, it wasn’t that hard to make a speech like that. I was more excited then nervous,” I said.

“So Scar, who’s having this graduation party honey?” Said mom.

“Mom, it’s just going to be a party with my close friends and maybe a few kids from school. Jake said he might be able to come too.”

“Ooh, Scarlett and Jake…” said my brother.

“Are you really going to be that immature on my graduation day?”

My brother and I always end up arguing about something. James lay back, looking relaxed while listening to his I-pod.

We arrive home at about once thirty eager to see our grandparents whom we haven’t seen in ages. They were on my dad’s side of the family.

“Hey, what’s cooking mom, dad?” said Dad.

Mom and dad both walk over to greet grandma and grandpa as well as James and I.

“My James, you’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you. Oh, and older too”, said grandma.

“Yeah, I just turned fourteen a couple of months ago,” said James.

“And who have we here?” “Happy eighteenth birthday Scarlett.” said Grandma.

… My friends pick me up at about six at night. They are the kind of friends that you would call very fortunate. Chelsea’s car is a silver Honda that costs close to the amount of $20000. To tell the truth, I don’t know how and where she gets that kind of money from as only a teenager. I know only one thing; she doesn’t have a job yet.

I got my first and only job about a week ago at a pet shop explaining to people how to care for certain animals.

“Chelsea, how long is the party till?”

“Till around ten,” replied Chelsea.

“How many people are going to be there,” I asked.

“Don’t worry so much Scarlett; they’ll be about twenty of the people from school that we know.” Said Tory from the backseat of the car

“Okay, no more questions.” I said. “Party it up baby!”

Chelsea, Tory, Veronica and Katy all smile and laugh at my remark. I smile as well.

We all arrive at the party ten minutes later. She was right on account of about twenty other graduates from school there. After all, Chelsea’s house looked spectacular!

She had a sign with big letters saying, “We’re the 2005 graduates!” Boy I felt so proud of myself and for once, relaxed.

“So I think It’s really cool that you are interested in animals. I love that subject as well. Great speech Scarlett!” said a girl named Rachel from school

“Thanks a lot Rachel,” I replied as I went to get a cup of water.

Something slowly wrapped around me as I was pouring a glass of water.

“Whoa, you scared me there for a second.”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m that much of a creeper Scarlett,” replied Jake.

The DJ (graduate) started to play some popular, current music in which we could all dance to. I head with Jake to the center of Chelsea’s enormous living room to go and dance with everyone else. I knew Jake for a long time now and he definitely out danced everyone on the dance floor with his cool moves.

The music started to get so loud that I couldn’t hear myself talk or even think for that matter.

“Hey Katy and Veronica, I’m going to go outside for a little bit. Can you please tell Chelsea if you see her?” I said.

“What’d you say?” said Veronica in a loud tone.

“Never mind.” I replied.

I took a couple of steps, then straight to the ground while holding my chest. Jake ran over to me like lightening.

“Scarlett, are you okay?” “Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett!” cried Jake with fear in his eyes.

It eventually got to the point where I fully blanked out, not being able to hear or see a thing.

...When I woke up, I was a little scared and baffled as to where I was and what happened. I further noticed my mom and dad looking as nervous as ever by the look of their faces, and my boyfriend Jake coming towards me frantically.

“Oh, my God Scarlett, are you alright? You look so pale sweetheart,” said dad softly.

“What happened honey? Do you feel dizzy or motionless? Said mom extremely worried.

“Did I blank out or something? Oh, I feel so dizzy and I have a migraine.” I said helplessly.

I moaned hopelessly and tried falling back to sleep. That didn’t work because I also had another part of emotion on me and that was guilt. I felt terrible that I ruined the most important party of my life, and possibly, the last party I’ll ever go to.

“It’s going to be okay Scarlett. I’ll ask the doctor to give you some Advil for your headache and please try to get some rest. Try not to think about the pain in your chest.” said Jake.

I know he was trying to be nice to try and help me and cheer me up, but visualizing pain in my chest felt painful to me and I tried not to cry.

He smiled at me holding my hand. I smiled back at him hugely.

“I’ll be right back sweetie.”

About five minutes later, the doctor came to check up on me.

“Hello Scarlett; Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, I’m doctor Isenman.”

“Nice to meet you said dad.”

“I’m just going to ask you Scarlett, how much pain do you have from one to ten?” said the doctor.

“Eight, I replied without any enthusiasm; my head still on my pillow with my eyes shut.”

The doctor turned from having a smile to a serious frown. The doctor told me to drink a lot of water to prevent the suffrage of dehydration. Dr. Isenman also told me to take it easy and try to relax for the next couple of days. I vowed to take his advice because he was definitely right.

“Scarlett, you have a very high fever of 103.5. I want you to drink every cup of water to ease the fever.” said the doctor.

“Okay,” I said without lifting my head or opening my eyes.

As the doctor leaves, I see Jake coming back with Motrin in which he probably got from one of the nurses and an ice pack.

“Put this on your head scar to ease the fever.” said Jake.

“Thanks for staying with me Jake, but you don’t have to stay much longer. You should go home and rest.” I said.

“I want to stay with you though.

He paused.

“I don’t know if now would be a good time to tell you that I got a scholarship in football for the whole season; but, I did.” said Jake.

“Wow Jake, that’s amazing; very impressive. You’ll be the star quarterback.” I said.

“I hope so; thanks Scarlett, and one night in the hospital couldn’t hurt, right?” said Jake.

“Nope.”

… “How are you feeling baby?” said mom.

“It’s morning already, I’m feeling much, much, much better now!”

“That’s very, very, very great.” said dad.

Jake walks up to me with a grin on his face.

“So I heard you’re feeling better?” said Jake.

“Yeah, I’m feeling good.”

“So I was thinking, how about just you and I see your favorite singer, Billy Joel, in concert this Saturday.” said Jake.

He pulled out two tickets from his front pocket and my face enlightened greatly.

“Oh, my God! Are you serious? Thank you so much Jake! That sounds like a terrific idea! Thank you so much; this was so nice of you.” I said.

“You have to have some fun after a miserable; well half miserable birthday.” said Jake.

“You’re the nicest guy I ever met Jake.”

He leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. We both smile and my parents, brother, Jake and I, walk out of the hospital very serene and calm.

The next day, I found myself working overtime in Joe’s Pet Shop. I was already used to all the animals there and treated them as if they were my own pets. One of the animals, a puppy, I had a very strong connection with and knew very well.

A lady walked in the pet shop with a girl that looked about my age, if not, older.

“Excuse me Scarlett, can I take out that puppy just to play with?” said the girl.

She scared me for a second when she called me by my name, but then I realized I had been wearing a nametag.

“Sure,” I said. “No problem.”

“Thanks, do you live around here?” she asked.

“Yeah, I live right near the mall. Michigan’s great.” I said.

“Yeah, I agree.

“Do you go to high school here?” I asked.

“That’s great; I just graduated from high school here about two days ago.”

“Wow, congrats! Oh, sorry; when I talk it can be forever. My name’s Amanda.” She said.

I laughed at the thought of her when I was the one who’d talk till sun down.

“So here’s our little puppy.”

Soft and not afraid, one who would strongly adore all thee who gave it no arm; all affection and this little puppy grew with happiness every time.

Five minutes later, my companion and I settled down on the smooth carpet, chatting intensely.  I nice, lonely girl she was, or assumed to be, and my companion and I went to extraordinary places; unforgettable times I shall cherish for the rest of my life. The park, where children jumping around of all sizes, smiled of the excitement, no stress, of their day. As I listened deeply to my companion, she had something wrong with her as well. Not just any sickness for that matter, diabetes, the poor thing suffered from. I now knew, my friend and I had much in common; she felt as a younger sister to me in a way; a good way.

… The next day, my lover, Jake and I were walking eagerly to the C.L.D.I. Stadium in Michigan.

“Are you excited Scarlett?” said Jake, nearly alarming me there.

“Yeah, definitely.” I responded with all emotions there.

On the way to the concert, I told him aout my friend and how she was like a close companion to me. She was a nice, clean girl with a bright future.

“This concert is amazing Jake!”

“What’d I tell you.” And to top it all off, front row seats.” said Jake trying to sound cool.

All of a sudden, right before my very eyes, the place turns pitch black, the lights flickering on and off; showing different colors all at once. This was something I wasn’t used to at all.

Jake started getting up and singing and dancing to the music. His dancing was cowardly, but his singing was reasonably good. He got me to my feet and started dancing with me when there were fun and slow songs.

Halfway through the concert I got a phone call from my friend. She sounded as if she couldn’t breathe the whole time. The words I could make out were “Can’t breathe… help and Joe’s Pet shop.

“I have to go Jake; I’m very sorry. Thank you for inviting me, but this is an emergency. Bye Jake.” I said quickly.

As I ran out of the stadium to my car, I drove my stick shift car with full speed ahead. Honking my horn to make cars go faster didn’t seem to work well, but I got there in less than ten minutes.

About fifty police cars were lined up near the pet store. The sound of sirens of a police car going off gave me butterflies. And, right before my eyes lay my companion dead on the ground. In total shock I was, having chills at the moment. Amanda’s parents were crying while their dearest daughter had been taken to the hospital. I knew right then and there… She wasn’t coming back. My good friend, my nicest friend, had died before my eyes and she wasn’t coming back.

… At the hospital, I viewed nurses and doctors trying to pump her chest with air and taking her blood pressure. Everything was spinning inside my head and I didn’t know what to say.

… There was no pulse, the doctor told her parents as I was praying for her. My friend, Amanda, had done nothing wrong to deserve this. Luckily, God spared my life, yet, there was nothing to be done to spare my friend’s life.
Shari Forman Feb 2013
… “Ready Scarlett; one, two, two and a half, three,” said dad looking as proud as ever.

It was my eighteenth birthday, the one and only year that I finally would graduate from High School. The ecstatic moment when I get my diploma and the rush I would get from wanting to rapidly pursue my career. I knew that I’d surely get a scholarship in life science, all about animals. The one and only thing that blockaded my chances of having a future life was me having to suffer from diabetes and few heart problems. Other than that, I was in for all new surprises.

“Scarlett Perkins, would you now gracefully make your way up for your diploma.”

The principal of the school should’ve spoken louder so people could hear, but when I smiled, he got a warm feeling and smiled right back. I know I’m not supposed to make a speech or even say anything, but meaning I’m officially finished with high school and by law, allowed to live on my own, I thought I’d say something that my family would never forget.

“Thank you Principal Williams.” “I will always strive to improve on what I struggle with the most. I am proud of myself as an honor student and will always think positively. Whether it’s finding a cure for my heart problems, leaving my best friends behind to let them pursue their careers, or finding someone to love and to cherish for the rest of my life; preferably Jewish and good looking…

Audience laughs

“I will work up to my very best and even further if possible. Thank you all for your time.”

Audience claps and cheers me on.

“Well, time to go to sleep ladies and gentleman, as the day is officially now over.” “I’m really proud of you Scarlett. You sure have the guts to get up there and give a fantastic speech, you see, I have barely any guts left; kids beating me up in your grade, but overall, I’m good.”

All I could do at that point was listen and smile at his humorous jokes.

It was a long car ride home with the window ajar and my mom having to stop short at every yellow light. It is just her thing now a day’s. My brother, James, was wearing his usual, yet casual, short-sleeved shirt with coterie shorts.

I had to open the window fully as if the humidity increased
about ten percent in the last few minutes. My graduation gown made me sweat even more and feel much overheated. My mom was wearing her new, loose fitting blouse with jean shorts. I would have to admit, my dad looked rather cool with his dark shades on even though it looked as if it was impossible to see through them.

“I’m very proud of you Scarlett. Hey, who knew that such a bright girl could make a speech like that,” said dad.

“Thanks dad, it wasn’t that hard to make a speech like that. I was more excited then nervous,” I said.

“So Scar, who’s having this graduation party honey?” Said mom.

“Mom, it’s just going to be a party with my close friends and maybe a few kids from school. Jake said he might be able to come too.”

“Ooh, Scarlett and Jake…” said my brother.

“Are you really going to be that immature on my graduation day?”

My brother and I always end up arguing about something. James lay back, looking relaxed while listening to his I-pod.

We arrive home at about once thirty eager to see our grandparents whom we haven’t seen in ages. They were on my dad’s side of the family.

“Hey, what’s cooking mom, dad?” said Dad.

Mom and dad both walk over to greet grandma and grandpa as well as James and I.

“My James, you’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you. Oh, and older too”, said grandma.

“Yeah, I just turned fourteen a couple of months ago,” said James.

“And who have we here?” “Happy eighteenth birthday Scarlett.” said Grandma.

… My friends pick me up at about six at night. They are the kind of friends that you would call very fortunate. Chelsea’s car is a silver Honda that costs close to the amount of $20000. To tell the truth, I don’t know how and where she gets that kind of money from as only a teenager. I know only one thing; she doesn’t have a job yet.

I got my first and only job about a week ago at a pet shop explaining to people how to care for certain animals.

“Chelsea, how long is the party till?”

“Till around ten,” replied Chelsea.

“How many people are going to be there,” I asked.

“Don’t worry so much Scarlett; they’ll be about twenty of the people from school that we know.” Said Tory from the backseat of the car

“Okay, no more questions.” I said. “Party it up baby!”

Chelsea, Tory, Veronica and Katy all smile and laugh at my remark. I smile as well.

We all arrive at the party ten minutes later. She was right on account of about twenty other graduates from school there. After all, Chelsea’s house looked spectacular!

She had a sign with big letters saying, “We’re the 2005 graduates!” Boy I felt so proud of myself and for once, relaxed.

“So I think It’s really cool that you are interested in animals. I love that subject as well. Great speech Scarlett!” said a girl named Rachel from school

“Thanks a lot Rachel,” I replied as I went to get a cup of water.

Something slowly wrapped around me as I was pouring a glass of water.

“Whoa, you scared me there for a second.”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m that much of a creeper Scarlett,” replied Jake.

The DJ (graduate) started to play some popular, current music in which we could all dance to. I head with Jake to the center of Chelsea’s enormous living room to go and dance with everyone else. I knew Jake for a long time now and he definitely out danced everyone on the dance floor with his cool moves.

The music started to get so loud that I couldn’t hear myself talk or even think for that matter.

“Hey Katy and Veronica, I’m going to go outside for a little bit. Can you please tell Chelsea if you see her?” I said.

“What’d you say?” said Veronica in a loud tone.

“Never mind.” I replied.

I took a couple of steps, then straight to the ground while holding my chest. Jake ran over to me like lightening.

“Scarlett, are you okay?” “Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett!” cried Jake with fear in his eyes.

It eventually got to the point where I fully blanked out, not being able to hear or see a thing.

...When I woke up, I was a little scared and baffled as to where I was and what happened. I further noticed my mom and dad looking as nervous as ever by the look of their faces, and my boyfriend Jake coming towards me frantically.

“Oh, my God Scarlett, are you alright? You look so pale sweetheart,” said dad softly.

“What happened honey? Do you feel dizzy or motionless? Said mom extremely worried.

“Did I blank out or something? Oh, I feel so dizzy and I have a migraine.” I said helplessly.

I moaned hopelessly and tried falling back to sleep. That didn’t work because I also had another part of emotion on me and that was guilt. I felt terrible that I ruined the most important party of my life, and possibly, the last party I’ll ever go to.

“It’s going to be okay Scarlett. I’ll ask the doctor to give you some Advil for your headache and please try to get some rest. Try not to think about the pain in your chest.” said Jake.

I know he was trying to be nice to try and help me and cheer me up, but visualizing pain in my chest felt painful to me and I tried not to cry.

He smiled at me holding my hand. I smiled back at him hugely.

“I’ll be right back sweetie.”

About five minutes later, the doctor came to check up on me.

“Hello Scarlett; Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, I’m doctor Isenman.”

“Nice to meet you said dad.”

“I’m just going to ask you Scarlett, how much pain do you have from one to ten?” said the doctor.

“Eight, I replied without any enthusiasm; my head still on my pillow with my eyes shut.”

The doctor turned from having a smile to a serious frown. The doctor told me to drink a lot of water to prevent the suffrage of dehydration. Dr. Isenman also told me to take it easy and try to relax for the next couple of days. I vowed to take his advice because he was definitely right.

“Scarlett, you have a very high fever of 103.5. I want you to drink every cup of water to ease the fever.” said the doctor.

“Okay,” I said without lifting my head or opening my eyes.

As the doctor leaves, I see Jake coming back with Motrin in which he probably got from one of the nurses and an ice pack.

“Put this on your head scar to ease the fever.” said Jake.

“Thanks for staying with me Jake, but you don’t have to stay much longer. You should go home and rest.” I said.

“I want to stay with you though.

He paused.

“I don’t know if now would be a good time to tell you that I got a scholarship in football for the whole season; but, I did.” said Jake.

“Wow Jake, that’s amazing; very impressive. You’ll be the star quarterback.” I said.

“I hope so; thanks Scarlett, and one night in the hospital couldn’t hurt, right?” said Jake.

“Nope.”

… “How are you feeling baby?” said mom.

“It’s morning already, I’m feeling much, much, much better now!”

“That’s very, very, very great.” said dad.

Jake walks up to me with a grin on his face.

“So I heard you’re feeling better?” said Jake.

“Yeah, I’m feeling good.”

“So I was thinking, how about just you and I see your favorite singer, Billy Joel, in concert this Saturday.” said Jake.

He pulled out two tickets from his front pocket and my face enlightened greatly.

“Oh, my God! Are you serious? Thank you so much Jake! That sounds like a terrific idea! Thank you so much; this was so nice of you.” I said.

“You have to have some fun after a miserable; well half miserable birthday.” said Jake.

“You’re the nicest guy I ever met Jake.”

He leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. We both smile and my parents, brother, Jake and I, walk out of the hospital very serene and calm.

The next day, I found myself working overtime in Joe’s Pet Shop. I was already used to all the animals there and treated them as if they were my own pets. One of the animals, a puppy, I had a very strong connection with and knew very well.

A lady walked in the pet shop with a girl that looked about my age, if not, older.

“Excuse me Scarlett, can I take out that puppy just to play with?” said the girl.

She scared me for a second when she called me by my name, but then I realized I had been wearing a nametag.

“Sure,” I said. “No problem.”

“Thanks, do you live around here?” she asked.

“Yeah, I live right near the mall. Michigan’s great.” I said.

“Yeah, I agree.

“Do you go to high school here?” I asked.

“That’s great; I just graduated from high school here about two days ago.”

“Wow, congrats! Oh, sorry; when I talk it can be forever. My name’s Amanda.” She said.

I laughed at the thought of her when I was the one who’d talk till sun down.

“So here’s our little puppy.”

Soft and not afraid, one who would strongly adore all thee who gave it no arm; all affection and this little puppy grew with happiness every time.

Five minutes later, my companion and I settled down on the smooth carpet, chatting intensely.  I nice, lonely girl she was, or assumed to be, and my companion and I went to extraordinary places; unforgettable times I shall cherish for the rest of my life. The park, where children jumping around of all sizes, smiled of the excitement, no stress, of their day. As I listened deeply to my companion, she had something wrong with her as well. Not just any sickness for that matter, diabetes, the poor thing suffered from. I now knew, my friend and I had much in common; she felt as a younger sister to me in a way; a good way.

… The next day, my lover, Jake and I were walking eagerly to the C.L.D.I. Stadium in Michigan.

“Are you excited Scarlett?” said Jake, nearly alarming me there.

“Yeah, definitely.” I responded with all emotions there.

On the way to the concert, I told him aout my friend and how she was like a close companion to me. She was a nice, clean girl with a bright future.

“This concert is amazing Jake!”

“What’d I tell you.” And to top it all off, front row seats.” said Jake trying to sound cool.

All of a sudden, right before my very eyes, the place turns pitch black, the lights flickering on and off; showing different colors all at once. This was something I wasn’t used to at all.

Jake started getting up and singing and dancing to the music. His dancing was cowardly, but his singing was reasonably good. He got me to my feet and started dancing with me when there were fun and slow songs.

Halfway through the concert I got a phone call from my friend. She sounded as if she couldn’t breathe the whole time. The words I could make out were “Can’t breathe… help and Joe’s Pet shop.

“I have to go Jake; I’m very sorry. Thank you for inviting me, but this is an emergency. Bye Jake.” I said quickly.

As I ran out of the stadium to my car, I drove my stick shift car with full speed ahead. Honking my horn to make cars go faster didn’t seem to work well, but I got there in less than ten minutes.

About fifty police cars were lined up near the pet store. The sound of sirens of a police car going off gave me butterflies. And, right before my eyes lay my companion dead on the ground. In total shock I was, having chills at the moment. Amanda’s parents were crying while their dearest daughter had been taken to the hospital. I knew right then and there… She wasn’t coming back. My good friend, my nicest friend, had died before my eyes and she wasn’t coming back.

… At the hospital, I viewed nurses and doctors trying to pump her chest with air and taking her blood pressure. Everything was spinning inside my head and I didn’t know what to say.

… There was no pulse, the doctor told her parents as I was praying for her. My friend, Amanda, had done nothing wrong to deserve this. Luckily, God spared my life, yet, there was nothing to be done to spare my friend’s life.
Pluto  Nov 2013
Katy-
Pluto Nov 2013
hair bleached, blonde, orange, ginger
(it's funny cos i'm not quite sure)
she brightens the rooms' darkest corners with just a mere twitch of her lips and her bright blue eyes and her giggle
it's perplexing how she doesn't see
(then again none of us do)
that she's as beautiful as the girl down the street
in fact even more
with every inch of skin and scar
it makes her prettier than anyone else
but the best part that no one else had
was the heart she held within herself.

tucked away and hidden,
like her arms always were under those huge school jumpers
she kept her soul and eyes away
from the nosy ones and lovely ones alike
despite them caring or not.
she always thought she'd never matter
to anyone else or even herself
but she failed to see the hearts and arms opening up to her
because she refused letting anyone in
(why katy why?)

so no more scars my lovely girl
put the blade away
don't even store it for those bleak rainy days.
because you're better than that all of this
because eventhough something in life may be amiss
there's always a gorgeous yellow sun to shine down on you
to light up your freckly face and your fluffy golden hair
and the scars are enough
so even though times are rough
your skin just needs a break
and so does your heart
though it may break apart
it will eventually come to its senses and piece back together.
you're oh so strong and one day a guy will come along
and you'd probably punch him in the face
but I hope that day would come soon
so I could see you giggle and swoon
over some white boy
(you better have good taste)

this pretty little flower
is such a blessing to me
and i'll never forget the trip we're going to plan
and i hope when we meet for tea perhaps
we'd still gush and laugh and rant
about things that mean too much about nothing
and we'd still be somewhat best friends

stressed and depressed but well-dressed is what they say
but i've only always seen her in ripped black tights and a short black skirt
*is it weird that we've never met but i feel like i've known her for years?
For dearest Katy Charlton, whom I've only known (online) for about two months now but has become such a close friend somehow. Sorry for this horrid piece of work (definitely not my best so I'll try to improve on future ones- I just could not see where it was going halfway then kind of ranted and tried to make it sound as poetic as possible) Anyway.
Despite being incredibly lonely irl, thank you for making me feel so cared for. You matter so much to me you don't even know. <3 we'll recover together okay. Love you, crumpet (bc british). **

— The End —