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The Good Pussy Jan 2015
.
                                 Bump
                            Bump Bump
                        Bump Bump ***
                      pBump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
                       Bump Bump Bump
        Bump Bump                  Bump Bump
   Bump Bump Bump      Bump Bump Bump
    BumpBumpBump        Bump Bump ***
       p Bump Bump                 Bump Bump
             Bump                                Bump
Things that go Bump in the night is the penultimate line in a traditional Scottish poem:
             "From ghoulies and ghosties/ And
             long-leggedy beasties/ And things
             that go bump in the night,/ Good
             Lord, deliver us!"
AJ Claus Nov 2013
Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump goes my heart.
Going so fast,
And you made it start.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump it's speaking.
Whispering to me,
Begging me please.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump it wants you.
I can't control it,
Do you hear it too?

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump as it writhes,
Twisting and turning
And growing inside.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump it cries out.
Making me long
To grab you and shout!

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump it won't stop.
Down to the floor,
It wants to drop.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump please oh please.
My heart cannot take it,
It needs you with me.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba-bump deep inside.
I know that without you,
I'll surely die.

Bump
Ba-bump
Ba
Bump
Ba

Bump

Ba...


Bump...



Don't let me die.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Bump, bump
                      Bump, bump
                                            Bump, bump
Bump bump
Bump bump bump
Bump bump bump bump
Bump bump bump bump bump bump bump

Bump jump!!!

I dont understand

Mine heart gets faster when she goes away
Yet I wait for her to cometh back

For she always controls the beat of mine heart
Realities fact!!!

I needeth mine heart medication right now,
I hope she cometh back
I need her no doubt!!

Bump bump
Bump bump bump
Bump

Mine heart is dying
When she leaves
I need her soiling
I need her seed...

She's the amore to mine heart that pumps so heavy without her!!
Annabel Lee Feb 2015
Bump bump, bump bump
Heartbeat there under the floor
Bump bump, bump bump
Heartbeat there, right by the door
Bump bump, bump bump
Heartbeat there, where nobody cares
Bump bump, bump bump
Heartbeat there, beat there
Bump bump, bump bump slower
Slower, slower beat so slow
Bump     bump     bump      bump
Heartbeat  there, please care
Bump                     bump
Heartbeat
Bump
.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2020
2020 - day 193

Sunday, July 12, 2020
8:03 AM

Peer Gynt, self aware, self fulfilled troll-like
being ghostly,
projected before me, on the wall that is not there
- callin' all in, all ye outs, in free
- hear ye, hear ye
- the day of judging is this one called today.

See that pile of idle words, find the ones y'know,
use'm t'make sense
since you know sense, on sight, you re
co-gnostically be tuned to the same
signal. {soft call to be true to your self aware

you are so naked

but who knows?
right being you, not me,
selfless lost in the mix,
billions of bits being bet on yet
more
hope, faith and love
these
the trying trinity judging me...

can one tell one story, or must one,
take part in one,
as in the
one story being
the whole of all stories,
yours, as well as mine,
told in words we all know you all know

y'know waddamean.
tell me wha'd I say? Baby, be old,

turn and turn and turn
night to day, in time after time after
ever
ever
ever
being floods reality with
those three triers used to try men's souls,

attention, to the trained, means one thing,
stand up straight, eyes front, hup, now

to the beat march,
as to war...

We are off to meet the Manicheans who
swallowed all the hate once given
follower of Nicolas, in Antioch,

given hatred taken from the revelation,
interpreted by the time
stage acting as now,
the day... back when a hundred monkeys
were imagined able to use
a machine that made sense from chaos, over time.



bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump
bada bump bada bump badabumpbump bumpbumpbump
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump

ding
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump
bada bump bada bump badabumpbump bumpbumpbump
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump

ding

the dance of graphical images mages form
as words flow from fingers into magical machines
imagined
famously by a Huxley fellow, convinced life happens
on its own volition
using right, as opposed to non working trials
abandoned,
{when the band broke up, 1970, or so}

but the music never died
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump
bada bump bada bump badabumpbump bumpbumpbump
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump

ding ding ding
writers of types of tales barred from publication,
suddenly appear

as it were from the type of word processors {Wangers}
that one Huxley envisioned responding
to a hundred monks who saw nor heard nor spoke evil
but
tapped, and at each tap a letter formed
to let a sound be heard
no levers stick, no carrying platens signal need to
advance
ding
tic, steadying sounds calling next from a habit
formed to the beat
tic tic tic
squeeks
as common, common conie-like rock squirrels

squeek squeek over the steady everthere sixty cycle
hummm

hear it, little dog, not too far away; adding music
to your day, which
grew from this seed, a little spore of living from
my state of being
informed
this day,

it was mine,
when first I noticed, this being the day.
I have power to live,
today,

I slept through the night, quite comforted, indeed.

Each new day
bada bump bada bump badabadabadabump
has a rythmn
sometimes it's steady, some itssteps stutter, some  say

sibalent whistles signal something, in the spirit,

sssssss

wait, too late, we made the story and let it fly.

ሴ ሴ

Lessoning myself in social graces,

I wash away my stains, my graffiti screams whispering
see me, see me, see me say

trolls exist in this place. Those who mocked knowing thyself,
and called evil good and good evil,
call fair foul and fould fair,
say sould souls were stolen, when we know the deal:

the price agreed was paid.
I insist enough
insisting for any rational troll,
knowing you are enough is enough, is part and parcel to
the act of being true to you as you
may say you wish you were,
free as truth in ever after...

- ain't nobody got no papers on me....

The sybils all told you , furies may come, but did you imagine


the wise principle thing promised riches beyond rubies,
for what a ruby is worth,
we have no clue.
What's a ruby worth to you?

Are you hungry? Here, eat a ruby.

Auto, self, did, done, act act, ionic become charged, my son.

Mama. ah. the old wounds we cherish.
Times before now, states of decay, shedding of skins to be
wise
as a serpent, like, that's a good thing, as good as
harmless
as a dove, on which poets rise in mind's eyes to see

sources of courses through the shallows near the shore

we all meander nearer now, swamped in ante
cipitation, capere, take it

take it, take it and move on. Live and learn,
follow the flow,
when you are snow, when you are precursor of coal,
go
on, no shortage of power,
like in America, where the power is always on.

Or was always on, in my future,
which is already
your past.
So fast,
but
its all realted,
it is all one idea, in the end, we each are given one last day,

to make up for everything, or make up everything.
The latter, I think,
today.
ሴ ሴ


You men ideas, furious in your raging, sing to us of
Gracious slaves of justice,

wake the lost hope of truth in
misformed
messengers whose every efforts fall mortally short.

Leaven a lessoning of habits formed being as a binding,
tied to each part of any whole
re-li-gated, ifthenelse ifthenelse ifthen else
re-legate, make a rule,
you
too
late,
we was e-pluriblized afor you was
aware eveh had begun,

The Pax of Everest living radiant as ever was imagined.
Peace
on earth, good will to the kind having hearing ears and
seeing eyes and slich oily minds,

anointed minded ones,
tested,
proven to have survived up
pop this very mortal moment called today,
to then, when you became dear reader in this medium
of mass messaging
lacking
any organized haeceity of pure me, not thee, not
other wise

ways wise men walk, watch, watch the liars strut,
do wise men walk this way?

Live and learn, we always say,
when given a day,
to think about it,

before dying and knowing, or not, if the point
is ever made, or was
already made before I started trying.

ሴ ሴ
ሴ ሴ ... _ .
Beta tests that use endless loops, are the icebergs in the stream of con-sci-use,
all floating on the rising tide of opinions
Zac Sandri Apr 2013
More on and more over
Get up or get on
Heard it in a song once
Twice they sang it live
Take heed, take your time
You know the rhythm

Thrump bump bump
Thrump bump bump

Just do it they say
All over the radio waves
Need to know
Yes you do!
Of course we don't
But they sing and sing

Thrump bump bump
Thrump bump bump

Wave to the music
Drop to the beat
Its taking over your senses
Like the smoke in the air
Sweet sweet notes
Dark dark meaning  

Thrump bump bump
Thrump bump bump
Tallulah Nov 2012
Ba da bump
I woke up alone
In my own twilight zone
Sunken is depression’s claw
& into myself I withdraw
Ba da bump, bump
Inevitably my heart will pump
Listening to the trumpet
Trapped in this twisted routine
I need a lover’s vaccine
Ba da bump, bump, bump
He said his love was fleeting
At our first meeting
So quickly I forgot
Blinded by the love I sought
Ba da bump, bump, bump, bump
We fell into bed
Bodies as heavy as lead
Sipping love from my lips
& I close my eyes to eclipse…
Ba da bump**
I woke up alone
bryn Apr 2017
bump
bump
bump
bump
bump
bump
bump
bump
bump
bu­mp
bump

silence

bump

silence

bump

BEEP

­*silence

silence

silence
--- Aug 2013
When I think about you

Ba-bump

When I see you

Ba-bump

When we hug

Ba-bump, ba-bump

When I lay next to you

Ba-bump, ba-bump

When we kiss

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump

My heart goes crazy
I feel it in my ears

Not a lot gets my heart going like that
But you
You make it happen more than anything else!
I listen to your heartbeat
To try to find out
If you feel the same.
Around you
Half-crazed
Very much out of my mind
I have trouble controlling myself
So I need to let out this
Energy
Amazement
Hunger
Somehow.
Can you guess?
I'm sure you know...
Oh yeah

I love you
More than anything.
Thought I'd let you know.
Dr Zik May 2015
Jump, Jump, jump, bump,
Heaven to earth, jump

Bump, jump, bump, jump
Trip, slip and bump

Like ****, ****, ****
Don’t pile money jump
J Jan 2011
wings beating hard against my chest
my heart, will it take up and    f   l   y,
with this, a mask, a painted smile, a porcelain;
                                          a china doll
       red lips, rubies sparkling
under a light that has never looked so false.
       the pulse
under your wrists, a smile crosses my lips
and i wish;
how hard i wish that it was permanent.
bump...
    ba-bump;
               ba-bump...
    ba-bump.
neverending butterflies in my chest,
bursting free, changing destinies.
so innocent, so delicate they fly through me;
and land upon the trails where you have been.
the moths, those things, fly for the light but in never reaching,
they leave the dust of their wings on every thing they touch.
and it will all just turn to dust;
bump,
    ba-bump;
               ba-bump...
    ba-bump.
let's go skydiving,
so we can breathe through our wings.
and falling through the clouds we will
wipe the dust from the song we sing.
written 08/04/2010
Rachel Cruz Sep 2010
a brush of breath upon my lips
closing in for that first kiss
your hand plays through my hair
into my eyes you stare

and i am lost
so lost
in your deep eyes
i am lost
so lost
in your deep eyes

dont shy away, love
stay close, stay near
ba-bump, ba-bump
goes my heart, can you hear?

ba-bump, ba-bump
getting faster
ba-bump, ba-bump
pushing harder

oh dear, oh dear
look what you've done
i'm flushing, i'm blushing
look what you've done

goosebumps, hair raises
i touch your lips with mine
ba-bump, ba-bump
i feel i may die

my sweet, my sweet
i could never leave
but my sweet, my sweet
this is just a dream
8 June 2010.
Tommy Jackson Apr 2016
The quill is a pulse
It thrives on
It's own heartbeat
Bump bump
Bump bump!
Martin Trahbeg Oct 2010
The bliss can be fleeting
Two hearts together beating
Love meant to last forever
Don’t touch me…ever

Feelings are hurt,
Just a bump in the road

Words said in jest
Felt like a punch in the chest
Misunderstood, but intentions were right
Whispered words plead your case…late at night.

Tangled lovers unite.
Just a bump in the road.

Old love can be best
Been put to the test
Even old partners can make a mistake
We forget, and others feelings we forsake.

Harder to smooth when deep rooted pain
Just a bump in the road.

Communication is key
Don’t just let it be
We work through tough dealings
Then back are fond feelings.

True love strikes again
Just a bump in the road

Life’s highway is long,
Subject of many a song
How do we get to the end?
With a love, and a friend.

We pave it all smooth.
Was there a bump in the road?
Emma Gabrielle Feb 2013
My heart beats
Bump bump, Bump bump
Loud.
Can he hear it too?

I cannot keep it from confessing
The way I feel with him
Carefree and complete.
For anyone else I cannot be

I try to conceal it, to hide it
Suppress.
Bump bump, Bump bump
I'm revealed

My love is confessed.
amy lessig Aug 2014
There is a time that everyone is going to hit a bump in the road, there is a time that everyone hit a bump in the road that make everyone go crazy, there is a time that everyone is going to run into the bump on the road in fine a new something in there life, so when you come to the bump in the road remember to think about what is going to happen next in your life. It may be good or bad so beware that there is a bump in the road
Lola Jan 2014
I see my life flashing before me

Red siren, blue siren

This fathomless landscape bores me

Red siren, blue siren

These ****** destroy me

Red siren blue siren

My God I implore thee

Red siren, blue siren

To save my life.

They pump me full

Thump thump
Thump thump

They always have.
So full of drugs and lies
That corrode in the past.

They pump me full,
Right from the vein
They drain my blood,
With their disdain

They chain me down,
Right to the bed
They shock my heart,
Inject my head

Bump bump
Bump bump

This ride from hell,
Their eyes so wild
My wound does swell,
Does swell so large

Oh gangrene supreme
They shock my heart -
Cut out my spleen -
The room goes dark,
They shock my heart
Cut out my spleen. . .

Bump bump
Thump thump

Oh needle people,
Sticking me full.
Oh needle people,
Take me for a fool.

Red siren
Blue siren

I pray unto thee now

Red siren
Blue siren

I call out your name

Red siren
Blue siren

Because to these imbeciles

RED SIREN
BLUE SIREN

My life is just a game

RED SIREN
BLUE SIREN

I pray and I say!

RED SIREN
BLUE SIREN

Have mercy on me!

RED SIREN
BLUE SIREN

As these dogs,
They watch me bleed.
Zywa Jul 2022
Bump, bump, with those blows

on my head I can't think what --


to do about it.
The beginning of the book "Winnie-the-Pooh" (1926, Alan Milne)

Collection "May the Might"
Thomas clark Mar 2016
I touched your belly
And shouted hello
Can you hear me bump
I guess I,ll never know

I know scientists say
Babies hear in the womb
Can you hear me bump
One kick if  it's true

Whoa bump
I said one kick will do
Guess you ai,nt learnt to count yet
Cos you gave me two

Hurry up bump
Please don,t be late
I would really love to meet you
I just can,t wait

I guess you,d like to know
How you got in mummies belly
Well I can,t lie to you
There was nothing on the telly

Seven month more
And we,ll finally meet
Will you be another boy
Or a little girl so sweet

Not that it matters
I really just don,t care
A boy or a girl
Daddies always there

I love you Clare
I love bump too
So to you both
A big thank you
The Fire Burns Oct 2016
Something just went bump !
Do I get up now and see
Covers over head

Bump again, rattle
Thump thump thump goes the door
Out of bed gun drawn

The door flies open
Broken jamb falls to the floor
Dark shadow there now

Shadow enters room
My gun up trigger fingered
Squeeze slowly or not

Shadow notices
Catches gleam of chrome
Turns and runs quickly

Cell phone gathered now
911 dialed answered
Shadow back at door

Shotgun barrel points
Pistol comes up in my hand
Trigger squeezed, bright flash

Shadow down on floor
Relief and strain roll through me
Police arrive then

Ordeal starts again
Questions and answers, photos
Righteous, castle safe
Written in January of 2016
Bob B Dec 2021
(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Frosty the Snowman," by Steve Nelson and Walter Rollins.)

Manchin the no-man
Is as proud as he can be
When he kills a bill that would help fulfill
A plan for you and me.

Manchin the no-man
Thinks that he is on a roll.
But you wonder whom he's beholden to
And to whom he's sold his soul.

There must be something going on
That makes him act this way
And has progressives reeling as
He makes his power play.

Manchin the no-man
Thinks that he is being strong
When he acts as though he's a friend, but no,
He just strings us all along.

Manchin the no-man
Is a man who's out of touch
With what people feel has great appeal.
He says, No, it costs too much.

A bill that helps all families
Should be a worthy cause,
Along with one for voters' rights,
But Manchin shouts out "Pause!"

Manchin the no-man
Sadly glories in his ruse.
As he jerks us all around and shares
His nonsense on Fox News.

Manchin the no-man
Is a person we can't trust.
He'll sit back and gloat as he casts his vote
For a bill to bite the dust.

Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…
Watch as he says NO!
Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…
Manchin has to go.

-by Bob B (12-20-21)

°Joe Manchin, U.S. senator from West Virginia
AJ Claus Oct 2013
Tick tick tick tick tick
Clock endlessly ticking, clicking in my ear,
On and on, will it ever stop?

Tick tick tick tick tick
Seconds pass, slow, barely moving,
Louder and louder, practically screaming now.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Rolling over, flipping pillows, kicking covers,
Nothing, not a thing, is working.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Eyes squeeze shut, then open, drooping,
Won't stay closed, won't let me disappear into darkness.

Tick tick tick tick tick
How long has it been?
Hands moving on the clock, going...backwards?

Tick tick tick tick tick
My dreamland awaits,
Yet all I can do is daydream about those far off dreams I want to dream.

Tick tick tick tick tick
My mind is my prison,
My cruel captor, my mortal enemy,  my unending undoing.

Tick tick tick tick tick
I must be going mad, utterly mad,
Stuck with this insomnia inside my blanketed asylum.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Hoping my tears will bring exhaustion,
But I'm just left in an ocean of hopelessness.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Staring at the inhuman neon numbers
That have come to rule my night, my life.

Tick tick tick tick tick
I try anything, no matter how cliché.
But not even counting coats of snowy wool can help me now.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Please lift me from this retched curse.
I'd take 100 years of sleep over no time at all.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Why won't my thoughts stop? Please!
Leave me be, leave me alone, let me sleep!

Tick tick tick tick tick
Yet they still run on, never-ending,
As the clock tick ticks away to the beat of my heart.

Tick tick tick tick tick
Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump,
Clock and heart in time together, intertwined as one.

Tick     tick        tick           tick              tick
As my heart slows, coming to a final stop.
I am grateful, and the clock fades off once and for all.

Insomnia gone,
I can sleep at last,
And I'm drawn into another world
Where my dreams become reality
And sheep frolick through fields
Along with me for all eternity.

Tick

Tick


Tick



Tick




Tick





Stop.
I'm on a train.

One of those red ones with black trimmed windows you can imagine rolling through the suburbs on the way to NYC. Not a subway car but a classier vintage with proper rows of cushioned seats and a lever to pull if there is an emergency. There are sparse shrubberies on one side of the tracks and the ocean on the other. Young trees and bushes stroll by.  A little wind is pushing off the ocean, massaging the car ever so gently back and forth as we move along. A gentle click-clack is on the tips of our ears.

We got on together. I hadn't known you for very long but the connection was stronger than anything I had ever felt or have since. You practically sat on top of me for the first few miles. Couldn't keep your hands off me,  staring in my eyes like you were searching for something lost but you couldn't remember what. The edges of your lips turned upwards permanently as if you were always at the verge of a laugh. You interlaced my fingers with yours and held on like you would be ripped away if your grip loosened for even a second. Slender fingers holding so tightly that they were becoming red.

You were excited to to be riding with me, about where we were going and all the things we would do when we got there. I would see you peer out of the corner of your eye, then lean over to brush your soft cheek against my budding stubble. Kissing and gently biting my lips insatiably. The suns rays coming in at an angle and lighting up your perfect smile and dimple.

I had to remind you we were in public.

I was lost in your blonde curls and the incense of your neck. I had fallen incredibly hard and so fast that my face hurt from smiling and my heart beat with vibrations I had never known. Not even a whiff of anxiety or neurosis. Some of the best memories of my life, as fleeting as they turned out to be.

I yawned and you put your finger in my mouth. I bent over to tie my shoe and you would poke my **** and laugh with your own reflection in the window, like this was the first and best joke of all time. Maybe it was and maybe it is.

The waiter came and informed us that a thing called "the bar car" existed. We both jumped at the idea. I didn't exactly notice at the time, during our excitement, but that's when the train started going faster and everything out the windows began to blur.

The bar car was a wild ride and we took advantage of our lo'cal. All kinds of fine wine, liquors and illicit substances were available. We tried them all. You were beautiful, your laugh infecting everyone around you, I was charming and held a captive audience.   It was a dark, loud and glorious blur. We were the life of the party and it chugged on till dawn.

We woke up in our seats, disheveled and discombobulated. It was dark out already. Did we sleep through the entire day? The train was slowing down, maybe approaching a station. The party was amazing but we were certainly paying the price for the black out. You moved over to the seat across from me to have some more space and lay down. I saw myself in the reflection. My hat, charm and smile from the night before had vanished. I must have left them in the bar car the night before.
      You had changed, beauty uninterrupted but different somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it. Irritated maybe? I invited you to cuddle and battle the hangover together but you ignored me. Like you couldn't hear me or didn't want to. I decided to let you be.

I got up to use the bathroom and thought I would go look for my scattered belongings. Maybe I could find a scrap of leftover dignity while you rested. I inquired to the conductor who directed me to the bartender in the bar car. He hadn't changed a bit, somehow untouched and unaffected by last nights antics that had effected me so dramatically.  Same black suspenders and white pressed shirt with impeccably slicked hair. I asked him what happened and if I had an open tab. While slowly polishing a rocks glass he looked up and made eye contact for a split second before looking away.
He said:  "Oh the bar car takes its toll. In the end we all end up paying one way or another". I still don't know what he meant by that or if he knew.
      I asked him if he found my hat and he said he would check the camera. We walked in to a small back room, while he was reviewing the tape, over his shoulder I noticed a tragedy.

We were drunk. I was going on to a group of new friends on one side of the bar, they were hanging on my words and I was eagerly explaining whatever nonsense they were drooling over. You were in the corner wearing that red dress I love, with your hair up in a tight bun. A few curls had escaped and brushed your high cheekbones, a thin line of pearls dancing delicately across your perfectly symmetrical collar. You were stunning and inebriated, swaying with each bump and motion of the train. A man wearing my hat put his hand on your side to keep you from swaying over and then he left it there.
I took a sharp breath.

It looked like you put your hand on his hand to move it but then it stayed and you both swayed together. As the air left my lungs and the blood drained out of my face I watched your lips touch the strangers. A small piece of my soul slipped away forever. I couldn't watch any further. When I asked the bartender how long it went on he fidgeted for a moment and uncomfortably muttered "quite some time". I never found my hat or the other part of me that left that day.  

The train slowed. I walked to the back, as far away from you as I could get, in utter disbelief. How could you? I thought to myself.
I mourned the loss of the you as I knew you yesterday, quietly and to myself. A tear  escaped my eye and rolled down my now fully formed stubble as I fell in to a random seat in mild shock. There were a few passengers back there so I had to pull together relatively quickly. After gaining some composure I knew it was time to get off. I knew we could never get back to yesterday morning though I would have said or done anything to do so.

The train had stopped. I went back to my seat and you were sleeping. I took my coat and gathered my things. The conductor looked at me confused as to why I would leave something so magnificent, I assume he had no idea what had transpired.   

I walked to the rear of the car and slid the door open slower than required. I stepped to the stairs and put one foot down on the step and the other on the ground. I stopped, rooted with my hand on the railing, lingering between two very different paths.
     I knew that it was time to get off, I knew this was the sensible thing to do, that I couldn't get past this offense regardless of how I had felt earlier the day before. The whistle screamed from the locomotive. The conductor looked at me and shook his head, I'm not sure if he was trying to tell me to stay or go but a decision had to be made.

The train lurched forward and I watched as the station slip away slowly. I sat in between the cars for a while and watched the ocean and birds. With a heavy heart and shoes I walked back to my seat. You were waiting. Crying. You knew. The bartender had told you. You didn't mean do do it, didn't realize what you were doing and thought it was me. He was wearing my hat and the whole world was blurry and dark.

I believed you. Self anguish mixed with alcohol was dripping from your pores. I knew you didn't mean it and were drunk, but could I ever forgive you or trust you again?

I loved you still.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection, a weaker version of myself looked back. As if an invisible chip in my teeth had developed and my shoulders lowered. The charming, confident man from the bar car the day before had been replaced. Something was off but not enough for anyone else to notice, just enough to know a change has happened.
       The train started to pick up speed again as we distanced ourselves from the station.  I second guessed my decision to stay but I didn't look back.

I found the man with my hat and punished him with a few blows in the dark. He knew he ****** up, apologized and took the beating like a man. I never got the hat back.

The engineer announced that we would be going through a tunnel soon and to turn on our lights and keep our hands in the windows.

It would be dark.  

We stayed away from the bar car for a while but the draw was irresistible. After a few hours we were there again but you never left my side.  Then you did. I was looking for you but you would disappear and not answer me when I called you name. The tunnel went deeper and darker and I didn't know where you were and I suspected you liked it that way. The train began to slow down again as we exited the tunnel.

I finally found you back at our seat, you had moved one row away from me. I asked you to come back, tried to hold your hands but you pulled away with vehemence. When I came back from the bathroom you had moved another row farther.
I knew I was losing you.
I begged you to return but you told me calmly that it was time for you to get off. At some point in the tunnel you had decided that you didn't want to go anymore . Your mind was made. You were going to catch another train at the next station.

When the train stopped I thought for sure you would reconsider but you didn't. Didn't even give it a thought. You just grabbed your coat and hat with one big bag under your arm. You kissed me on the cheek like a french stranger and were off. Going somewhere else on a different train. Just like that.

I rode the rails for quite some time by myself , many people getting on and getting off, passing me by. Every once in a while I would think I saw you at a station or in a **** though the window of another train. I often thought I could smell you but when I breathed deeper it was always gone. A ghost dancing on the edge of my senses.

A young girl in a headband got on the train. She was listening to headphones and dancing to herself as she bobbed along. She sat down in the seat next to me flashing a smile. She had a wedding ring on and I dismissed her immediately.  She didn't move from the seat or stop glancing my way. Eventually she confessed that she wanted to talk. I told her I wasn't interested but she persisted.  I hadn't talked to anyone on the train for quite some time and after some more mild persistence, I gave in.

We had a lot in common. We were both riding alone, desperately wanted attention and were thrilled to receive some.  After a few laughs she slid her hand in to mine and interlaced her fingers. I left it there. It was warm, comforting and wrong. She was married but I had been riding alone so long it felt good to have some company. She stayed and we talked. She was broken and I had a knack for fixing things. After a few hours of dramatic conversation I fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.

When I woke up  the train was flying up the track on the side of a mountain. Trees and rocks were a blur of green and grey. The engineer must be trying to make up for lost time I thought to myself.

The girl was asleep with her head on my lap. I looked down at her hand and the rings were gone. I woke her briefly to ask where they went. She said she didn't need them anymore and had thrown  them out the window.  She could of sold them, I said, but she said she just wanted them gone so she could be mine and fell back to sleep.  All of a sudden I couldn't breath. This train was roaring down the tracks, the once gentle click clack had become a loud hum. Suddenly too loud. This girl in my lap who had just gotten on the train wanted to stay. I considered her for a while as she looked up at me with big blue eyes, shining and wet, like a puppy in the shelter, terrified of rejection and desperate to be adopted.

At the peak of the mountain, just when the train began to even out, you waltzed back in to the car with a champagne flute in one hand and your bag in the other.

I don't know when or where you got back on, must have been a few stations ago when I stopped looking for you. Maybe you were wearing a disguise, who knows what you had been up to while you were gone. I'm not sure how long you were away but it was quite some time. That you had been through something was obvious, a new wrinkle had formed on your brow and you're once confident stride had changed to a cautious stroll. What actually happened out there I don't know.  I never asked and I don't want answers.

You looked at me and smiled. It was good to see that smile, like sun on my face on a brisk day.  You took a step toward me and then I looked down in my lap at the girl at the same time you did. I looked up. You and your smile were gone.

Everything I had begun to feel for this broken, head banded girl in my lap dried up like a puddle in  the dessert.  I quietly and gently nudged her awake and told her I had to use the bathroom. She put her head down on my coat and fell back into what ever trance she had been in, eyelids gently fluttering, eyes searching beneath them for what I would never give her.

I dashed up the isle and threw open the door, almost shattering the glass. The conductor glared at me and rolled his eyes as I barged past to the space between the cars.

There you were. Standing on the stairs with your head out the opening. The wind was blowing your perfectly formed curls around your head like a blonde explosion of familiarity. I yelled your name and you dove in to me. My senses erupted, my mind went numb as the train was nearing another station and I inhaled your essence greedily.

We moved to another car. I abandoned my coat with the married girl and never looked back. I hope she found what she was looking for. I  never could have been the answer she was so desperately seeking but I know I  helped steer her towards it.

You told me you had encountered some other people out there on the rails and they had reminded you of what we had when we first left the station. I never forgot.  

The train started to rock and get going again. We were back in the bar car and starting to brown out. We had to get off of this train right ******* now. In a desperate moment we looked at each other and put our hands, together, on the emergency brake cord. I looked in your eyes with your hand on top of mine. You kissed me while yanking down on the cord. Time slowed, the breaks squealed and everything exploded throwing luggage, people and the entire contents of the bar car in to a nondiscriminatory chaos . We got up off the ground, ran to the end of the car, dove off the side in to a soft patch of grass and rolled down a small incline. We watched as the conductor sifted through  the mess and interrogated the passengers, trying to ferret out the party responsible for pulling the brake. He spotted us off the side of the tracks and shook his fist while shouting every conceivable obscenity combination.

We laughed, held each other in the grass and kissed deeply.

We watched the train pick up speed and disappear in to the hills as relief spread over me.

You interlaced your fingers in to mine and we both looked out to where the tracks disappeared into the horizon, wondering how far of a walk it was to the next station.
Bad Luck Jul 2018
The difference between actions and habits,
     is often measured by the person you're asking.  
One bump, one line, one half ounce . . .
All shared by people you don't even give a **** about.

These chemicals make me sick --
              Limitless . . . Why quit?
              When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this?
Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,
              if drugs in his day were half this good.

"Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."
      Walk and push the limits of a real fine line...
If I don't **** myself, or someone else . . . I'm happy.
       Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing.

Gasping as I swerve lanes --
Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily.
Living a-live . . .
Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.  
Chase feelings.

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You know me, right?

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You love me, right?


I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide . . .
Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.
        To bridge the gap in the great divide
        No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers.

Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason
To stay or leave Him.
He makes excuses . . .

                                                    . . . Believe Him.
"Bad Luck: In a Wakeful Contradiction" is now available on Amazon in paperback!

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691941182
Sam Conrad Dec 2013
So I've got this story...
And it goes a little something like this-

There's a girl that I hurt really bad on way too many occasions that I love more than anything. Pretty much everything I write on here is about her. She became the love of my life, and I told myself she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. Except I was a ****. She was going somewhere to an event that lasted 2 weeks and was really important to her and let's just say I ****** it all up really really bad. She made a lot of friends there and it was a great experience for her, kind of like camp is for some people, how boy/girl scouts are for some people, and she learned a lot there, and had lots of fun too. I was so horrible to do what I did.

At least we're young though, and there's still time to grow...right? I'm only 18, she's almost 18, and we both have lives to live ahead of us. I feel like I need her though. She treated me perfectly in our relationship. I mean, looking back, there's nothing I can fault her for, at all. I just got ****** at stupid crap that doesn't even matter.

Except, she's into somebody else now and probably thinks I'm no good for her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. Anyway, I'm rambling, I haven't gone to bed, I took a bunch of pills, am getting sick, and it's 7 AM...so here goes. This story is somewhat censored, though.

_________________­___________
"The Worst Weeks of Our Lives"

I met this girl and she became the love of my life. She took me places I'd never gone before and her and I fell in love like some people wouldn't believe. Ask my friends. Ask her friends. No, her friends probably wouldn't admit to it anymore. But I choose to remember the things they said. Kids were like totally rooting for us all day every day. We were so perfect. It was great.

So with a few mistakes here and there, (mostly me...all me, really) we realized we weren't perfect. But it didn't hamper out love. Nobody is perfect, right? We realized that. Overcame.

But then, we went too far. Her parents drew lines we weren't supposed to cross. Oopsies. Her mom really put me in my place. I'll just leave it at that. Asked me when my 18th birthday was, so she could mark her calendar as the "day she could touch me". Told me I was a liar. Husband in the background drunk and screaming, as usual. Except screaming "that ***** ain't sorry. He ain't ******* sorry, ******* ******* marking up my ******* daughter I can show him how to be ******* sorry"

Lots more. I'll go crazy if I speak the rest. It was a hickey on her neck. We didn't do much more.

I got really scared. I mean, they were brutal. I wasn't used to that kind of brutal. Psychotic levels of brutal. All of the sudden I became numb. I stopped being so intimate with my girlfriend. They told me not to come around their house anymore. I started doubting myself. If I was any good for her. She cried and cried. Told me how sorry she was. For getting us in trouble, and for what her parents did. But it wasn't her fault. After all, I am the vampire that bit her neck.

After a few weeks, her parents dropped it completely. I didn't though. I was so traumatized. I'd been getting flashbacks. Nightmares. So scared, I was. I kept avoiding her, not only her parents. I mean, I didn't have a car anyways, so the only place I could go to see her was at her house. She reassured me I was allowed. But with no contact with her parents since the phone call that changed my life I was reluctant.

This was around 2 months before she was going to go to a 2 week event. A special event to her. One I'd even wished I'd gotten involved in. Really, I did wish. I just missed the application deadline. Throughout the next two months, we grew more and more distant. I was harsh on her. I hurt her. I'd get mad at her and then call her and talk to her until 3 in the morning. I made her hate herself, and then she felt bad about me feeling sorry too. "You always force yourself to be nice to me just so I feel better, but I'm ****, I'm trash, I'm nothing, I'm so sorry" she would say. Most of the time, she didn't even do anything wrong. One of my best friends died at the same time her parents killed me inside, I spent all my days sleeping and crying and when I wasn't doing that, I was getting angry at her (and quickly regretting it), manufacturing conflicts that were completely unnecessary. Not to mention I'd had health issues, and my parents kicked me out of my house a few months beforehand.

In the time before she left to her special event, I really tore her up. I said the dumbest things I've ever said to someone in my life. I'd never even said such dumb things to even an object, or myself. Why I would say them to a girl who saved me from suicide (I was very unstable and depressed when coming out of a bad relationship, and getting kicked out of home) and why I said it all to someone I wanted to spend my life with I'll never know.

The dumbest things I'll ever say to anything that breathes in my lifetime. I told her one night that the "only reason I was still with her was because if I left she'd hurt herself" (she had a history of self harm, even though she's the sweetest girl I've ever met) and another night I told her "If only she were going somewhere important I'd understand" and lots of other insensitive and selfish things that I can't even believe came out of my mouth. I mean, the whole basis of it was that her and I hadn't spent much time together (really because of my own selfish fears) and I was going all *** on her testosterone-fueled-rage style for days over and over and over.

Don't I sound like a horrible person? I was. I was horrible to her. As much as I hate to say it, I'll probably make similar mistakes again someday - It's like relapsing - but I'll make every effort I can to learn from my horrible past and never be that person again.

So when she went to the event, I was with my grandparents out of state and I downloaded my favorite sad playlist (Staind, great band) to listen to on the trip.

Yes, seriously. I told her that stuff and called her event unimportant and then I went away too. How stupid I was for what I said. I should have been slapped or something.

A day or two after I'd left, I realized how stupid it was of me. For the whole thing. That whole time. That whole span, those two months where I not only neglected her, but emotionally ****** her.

There's a song called "Tangled Up In You" that has the most wonderful and intimate lyrics and I listened to it and sung to it over and over and over late into the morning (I'm talking 3-4 in the morning) every night for like 10 days and along with a song called "Right Here" by the same band. I cried myself to sleep so extremely ashamed of what I'd just done to her.

I knew I was wrong, but what I didn't know was that she was crying her eyes out wrapped up in (someone else)'s arms at that event...
I didn't know she was getting all kinds of love and support.
I had no idea...not that it was bad, it was good because she needed it.

But it got her to thinking about me, what kind of person I was.
When we both got back, I started making more of an effort to spend time with her and go out of my way to talk to her, make her happy, and basically, stop being such a ****.
Except she just got confused and conflicted because she was numb and falling out of love, because I was nothing that anyone should love, to her, over that prior time.

Her mom broke us up about a month later, after some...you know what, I'll just leave that bit out...
I told you how the first phone call went. The phone calls I got from her and her husband in the end were just so much worse. I don't even want to think about them. I went into convulsions and kept dropping the phone.

I went back to these two songs to help keep my sanity and I belted out "Tangled Up In You" every day in my car... so loud I was losing my voice.

I'd had some communication with her, surprised her at her work one night, bought her flowers, wrote her my true feelings on some napkins, showed up when she got out of school one day, when she was deathly afraid, and surprised her with a smile and drew a heart on her hand...

Her and I were on the same page. She still loved me. She was just hurt. I still loved her. I was just trying to make up for the compromised mental state I spent so much time in. I had compromised hers too. I needed to get her out of it. She told me she would wait for me. That we were in a speed bump, that it would all be okay.

So some weeks passed, a month, and she still had my back. As strong as ever. Her parents found out I bought the flowers. They found out I'd been talking to her. But...

Knowing she still had my back, that she still loved me, and that she would wait for me...she called what her mom did (in breaking us up, in our break) a "speed bump"...I was okay with it. I mean, I really wanted to be a part of her life, but man, her parents HATED ME! (In retrospect, probably with good reason. Shame on me for the things I did to her. Really.)

We had some major issues (mostly due to my inability to shut my stupid mouth) and I decided that maybe some time to ourselves to focus on ourselves and think was a good thing. She could focus on loving herself again and I could focus on becoming a better person.

I mean, when her parents found out her and I were still talking to each other after they broke us up, they blocked my number on her phone, went to my church and made up extra stories to my pastor, (told him I'd came and banged on their door at one in the morning one night), when I called to apologize to them they didn't pick up, called me back later to cuss me out and hang up on me, logged into their daughters facebook account and blocked me, then told their daughter that I had called them when she was sleeping and cussed them both out, and that she was to have nothing to do with me again. They threatened legal action against me, too. Tried to make my life hell. They didn't want me around their daughter, ever again. A blind rage that went on for a very long time until every communication route was blocked.

She went to school and told her friends the false stories her parents told her, and her friends already didn't like me...I mean just look at what I had done before...it wasn't good. Not for me, anyway. Also her. She felt duped. Used. By her parents. She didn't know who to trust or what was real. Everyone was telling her how horrible I was.

I got a chance to talk to her one day. We talked for hours, face to face. Sat in the cold and talked. It was an amazing talk. We caught each other up completely on our lives. We talked about our love. Our past. Our emotions. All of them. Good and bad. But we told each other we'd always love each other. She stuck by me, and also reassured me that she always would. I left that conversation feeling so secure. The most I'd felt since way before I'd become a total **** to her. When her and I were so deep in love.

She's always wanted to go far away from college. She told me stories of her past and what her parents did to her, what she did to herself that were not good. Not good at all. She wanted to get away from her parents.

Meanwhile I was so caught up in the feelings she gave me when I was in her arms, I almost couldn't handle the fact that she wanted to leave. I pleaded for her to stay, in a time that her and I were both unstable and it was already taboo that we were even on the same property. But still, she said "she wanted to stay" because her and I work so well together...when we work together, that is, and I and her were both determined to work together. I told her I would do anything for her. In all of it though, I told her that the decision was in her hands and I would still love her the same if she left, and that I would wait for her. Because I loved her more than anything.

After that talk, things got quiet. I guess, too quiet. I was legally bound to stay away from her. I talked to someone she worked with and asked them to tell her hello for me. I thought though, we were on good terms following the talk, I thought she'd be elated to hear from me.

She never responded.

One day, a couple weeks later, she told me I really needed to get over her. That she didn't love me like that anymore. She told me she'd been falling out of love since the summer, and she'd gone crazy and needed space. She said she wanted to be friends, but no relationship. No relationship anymore. She said she couldn't handle it. She said she couldn't handle a relationship in general.

She made that message a bit accusatory. I'd been talking to two friends, one who I'd known for years and a new one I'd just made. Both overlapping friends with hers. Those two helped keep me sane.

She started that message with "I heard you've been messaging my friends, and to be honest, I haven't had the heart to message you back." She repeated multiple times that I needed to get over her. She told me that it wasn't anyone else's influence too. She even listed people. People who'd separated us. Hurt me. Hurt her, in a way, but encouraged her in others.

At the same time, she blocked me on facebook again. She had unblocked me when she found out her parents did it for her. Odd though...I thought she wanted to be friends. I mean, it was like the only way I was able to have her in my life at all. To read her facebook posts and her read mine. To have discussions with friends. We have a lot of overlapping friends.

Man, she killed me. One second I thought she was my soul mate and the next I was in the bathroom puking my guts out because she was telling me we'd never be together again.


So fast forward to today...I still love her. And she's basically in a relationship with someone else. She's also either on the fence about her sexuality, or decided she doesn't like boys anymore. I feel bad about that too. Its like I ruined male relationships for her. It's only been a few weeks since she told me I needed to get over her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. I go to high school events even though I graduated last year just to see her. When I don't approach her, she ignores me. I'm just another person in the room. When I do approach her, she has such a scared look on her face. She doesn't want to talk to me, but she can't be mean to me. She's falling in love with someone else and she's getting happier. She doesn't need me showing up everywhere just to depress her.

Yet I keep bothering her. Because I'm a sucker for her. I can't help it. I love her. I want her to be my future. But at this point I'm grasping at straws. So hard. I shouldn't be trying anymore. But I'll end up trying until the day I die. And only then will I stop believing in her and I. I know it's a pipe dream. But I'll hold onto it. Because it's the only thing I have left of myself now.

Last night, (I mean, right before I wrote this around 5 AM, it is now 8 AM) I played those two songs again. I forgot they were at the end of my playlist and I started shivering and crying my eyes out. I got chills. I got so cold. The tears just ran. They ran down my face faster than I've cried in a long, long time.

I'm only okay right now because I took a bunch of pills. Pills that have this kind of effect on me. They make me kind of numb. Kind of happy. Upper and downer both.

That's pretty much, my sad ending to a sad story.
I'm living the kind of life that only people like Shane Koyczan know how to explain to people.

Ironically, she loves Shane Koyczan.
I do too.
We grew up in broken homes and lived broken lives until we found each other.
Then we broke each other.

But she's falling for someone else, because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she knows
But she doesn't believe in me anymore, the way I believe in her...because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she can't hold onto me when I'm a 50/50 chance, of bringing her down again.
If only she would let me hug her again, kiss her one more time...I could die happy, knowing I poured all my heart and soul out into that last kiss.
But I'm a gamble. And she can't put her heart out on the line for someone who wasn't always good to her. She used to call me her "sweet boy" and she still tells me I'll always be her "sweet boy", but the fact of the matter is, it doesn't cut it to only be sweet s
I needed to write this. I've been going crazy. I told her I needed to talk to her but she's been avoiding me. If she reads this, I know its hard for her. There are more explanations I need to give her, I hope she will let me speak to her someday. I've found out a lot about myself in just the last few weeks. Stuff I don't talk about in this story. To you, my dear...if you read this, I'm sorry. I know it's tough. Its very tough. But look at the positive, dear. I'll keep living. Maybe I'll be okay someday. Your happiness is what matters to me. If you're happy, I'll keep myself going. I'm going to go to sleep now. Finally, I have some peace.
Alexa Sz Apr 2010
the base drum beats
bump... bump... bump... bump... bump...
the base guitar plays one note
brung... brung... brung... brung... brung...
the rhythm guitar strums one chord
strum... strum... strum... strum... strum...
Then the lead guitarist rings out in epic
greatness, as the lights turn up
you see him ripping up the guitar with his fingers everywhere at once
playing a great solo
moving across the stage
curly hair all over
breathing hard.
the Singer starts his song
clear but unique
no other singer could sing like he
but it's not the reason I love AC/DC
it is because of the guitarist
ANGUS YOUNG!
a inspiration above many!
You've got a white scarf, but it's unreliably so
I could count on it to be white for many years
Until last year, when it didn't quite resemble snow
It changed colors, and brought up many fears
Like will you make it til tomorrow?
and will you still be here?

You used to wear it like it embodied majesty
Like you were a lion and it was your mane
Curling around your neck and screaming of divinity
I know that mane better than I know your name

(buddy)

The leaves will change and your scarf will too
Your head will bump mine, and I'll bump yours too

I'm running from my thoughts and the truth
This might be all for naught and tomorrow you
Will be here still, and I won't have to say goodbye
To your scarf, your mane, our collective life

Maybe your heart will still be kept in mine,
Released only when our heads collide

Your personality is truth
Your personality is you
I try to ask others to be like you but they can't
That plight is wrong and an ineffective chant

Your heart, your personality, your truth
Will be held in my heart regardless
of whether or not tomorrow I see you

And I do see you.
For a while there, you were hiding behind your disease
But now you're able to come out of your shell with ease
And now I can have another collection of moments with you
Your personality
Your truth

And you are truth.
For a year I thought you were gone and that the next
Moment I saw you, you'd be descending into a grave
You would be gone and only accessible through memories
Your truth
Your personality

And you are personality.
It pained me every time I saw you, thinking I wouldn't see
It and how you walked and how you cried for water when
You needed it. I'd trip over you, and trample you, but you
You are truth
You are personality

You're here today, eternally in my heart
You're here tomorrow, and when we are apart
A year down the road, and a plethora more
You'll be in my heart forevermore

The part of me that you bring out will never exist again on this earth
And your white scarf will never be seen by my brown eyes
But I can hold you here
Right here in my heart
And you can pur
And I can contemplate when you'll bump my head again
this one's about my deceased cat who had a ring of white fur around his neck (2/18/16)
Frisk Jan 2016
“Big change, huh? Bet you could take some awesome shots here, Max.”

Max nodded, only hearing the last part of Warren’s sentence. Truth was, she was distracted by how beautiful this place was. If Max stood at the end of the street, she could get a killer depth-of-field perceptive image by aiming towards the long and skinny winding roads being enveloped by the building’s shadows. San Diego seemed to flourish with art and photography culture, and great opportune shots to shoot photographs.

“Earth to Max.” That seemed to knock her out of her thoughts. *****, focus.
“Are you going to go swimming with me and Brooke?”

From the look on Brooke’s face, she was hoping to God that Max said no. Brooke is the relationship equivalent of a boa constrictor, and she wasn’t sure how this hasn’t dawned on Warren yet. “I’m not sure. Maybe. Let me unpack first.”

After Kate dropped out of going to San Diego Comic Con last second, Max was nearly going to join her when Warren practically begged her to come. Coming back to the present - equipped with her suitcase and messenger bag - Max lingered behind the couple by several feet. This was her way of trying to avoid the reminder that she was third-wheeling with a boy who used to have a very awkward crush on her and his salty girlfriend.

“I’m going to go down to the pool.” Warren said, sliding his key card into room #228, turning his head to face Max before opening the door. “Maximillian, are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“Like I said, I’ll think about it.”

The moment the three of them walked in, Brooke and Warren beelined for the restroom with their bathing suits in hand. Once they came out, Warren had a blue and black plaid board short swimsuit on whereas Brooke came out with a highlighter-colored graffiti two piece.  “Alright, Mad Max. We’re out of this joint. Catch us at the pool if you need something or want to swim. If not, we’ll be back in an hour.”

Max waved them off, digging through her bag for that bathing suit. The crimson colored ruched one-piece vintage bathing suit sat abandoned at the bottom of her matching vermillion suitcase. Down below at the pool area, she could hear screaming and laughing and splashing of the pool water. Max got up from her suitcase, and opened the curtain enough to look out at the hotel pool. Several other people were down there, pushing the time limit very close to closing in an hour from now. Come on, Max, you’re really going to let your whole adventure be ruined by the usual high-strung Brooke?

**** it.

Max nabbed the swimsuit from the hidden corners of her suitcase, stripping herself down to pull the swimsuit onto her body. Once the swimsuit was on, she turned her waist feeling the soft fabric conform to her small but still vaguely prominent curves. Max can remember Mom always saying that she looked good in red, so she recommended a red one-piece since Max doesn't have the confidence to show her stomach to anyone.

Well, except her best friend Chloe. They used to take bubble baths together as toddlers so it used to be the most natural thing in the world to get dressed in the same room together. It must have been a better time, where there were no insecurities. Now Max has trouble calling her up without her finger freezing up as she attempts to type the very last digit of Chloe’s phone number into her phone.

As Max turned around in the mirror, she noticed how her lack of a rear end was a lot more distinguishable in red. Wowser, Max thought, this looks really good on me.

“Wowser.” Max said aloud to her reflection, and threw on a bathrobe.

It must have been ten minutes into Warren and Brooke swimming when Max opened up the pool gate, entering the vast perimeter of the pool area. There were significantly less people around the pool, where most of the people still inside the pool area were kids our age. “Max, you’re here!”  

This made two teenagers stop in their tracks as they were opening up the pool gate at the other end of the pool to leave. One of them whipped around so fast that it was a blur of blue hair.  “Wait…”

“Is that…Max Caulfield? It looks a lot like her.” Rachel asked to Chloe, who hung her jaw open in disbelief. No ******* way.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she watched Max drop the robe on a nearby chair. Like an awkward penguin, Chloe watched her best friend waddle up to the pool edge & cannonball into the waters below oblivious to the two girls standing at the gate watching her. “You’re going to wake up the neighbors and the owner of this hotel's parents forty miles away, Warren!”

“Do you want to go say hi to her?” Rachel asked Chloe.

As Chloe decided on actually going to surprise her, Max's friend said something that made Chloe change her mind in a split second.

“How would you know? Besides, you’ll eventually forgive me for that once you meet the entire cast of Star Trek tomorrow, Max.” Warren yelled at Max, and Chloe did a small grin as she turned away from her best friend, closing the gate on both of the girls.

“No. Guess the oblivious nerd is going to Comic Con too.“ Chloe took one last look at Max before going back inside the hotel with Rachel Amber at her tail. "Do you think she'll recognize me in cosplay?"

"Probably not. Unless I drop the bomb on you guys."

“Shhh. I don’t need you ruining my surprise party, *******.”

Max, Brooke, and Warren weren’t in the pool for long, since Warren bumped his head into the side of the pool while doing laps with Brooke. They had to get out, and put an ice pack on Warren’s sore bump on his head. “Now how am I going to cosplay the 11th Doctor? I need to gel my hair back, but I have this gargantuan bump on my head.”

“We’ll figure it out, sweetie.” Brooke said, and Max nearly gagged.

Max went back to the hotel room first, since being around Brooke made her want to strangle her.  This whole third-wheeling thing was annoying, and Max was regretting coming alone without Kate as her faithful chauffeur. Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to let that ruin her trip. She was here to have fun. And to take a bunch of photographs, of course.

The next morning around 4:00 am, Max was rudely awoken by Brooke who shoved her in her shoulder. “Get up, Max. We’re leaving in thirty minutes from now.”

Was that necessary? Max thought, crawling out of bed. From the bathroom, she could hear Warren fretting over the mammoth-sized bump on his head as both of them got dressed in their cosplay outfits. “Okay. That hurt a lot. Ow, ow, ow.”

“Oh, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Shut up, guys.”

Feeling slightly irritable from the loud ruckus Brooke and Warren were making in the other room Max rolled out of bed. She rustled through her suitcase for a pair of skinny jeans and a white t-shirt with the print of a doe on the front. Once she had her clothes, she stood up to walk into the restroom to change when she noticed the ending result of both of her companions.

Brooke’s multicolored dark hair was pulled down in waves framing the scarlet dress with a black belt fastened around her waist. As for Warren, his usually shaggy brown hair was gelled back for his cosplay. She had to admit, he looked handsome in his mahogany jacket, red bow-tie and matching suspenders, and the cotton collared button-up he wore underneath. For a cosplay of The Eleventh Doctor and Clara Oswald, it was quite impressive how close they looked like the actual characters of the TV show Doctor Who.

“Take a picture of us, Max!” Warren said in a chirpy voice.

“On it.”

Max pulled out her camera, and pointed it at the couple who held up peace signs together. Once the picture rolled out, the couple split apart to put on the finishing touches of their cosplay.  As for Max, all she had to do was throw on her clothes. There wasn’t a lot of work in dressing up like normal people. Besides, she’s never really been a fan of cosplay.

If you want to count dressing up as pirates with her best friend Chloe on Halloween five years ago cosplay, then yeah, Max has cosplayed several times before.

“Max, hurry your *** up. It looks like the amphitheater is getting crowded from here.” Warren yelled from outside the bathroom door towards Max, who sloppily tied her shoes.

As they exited out of the large double doors of the four star hotel, Warren and Brooke took the crosswalk, pointing out people cosplaying as characters from TV shows or video games. They were smiling and laughing, leaving Max to third-wheel again. Instead of lingering on it, Max put in her headphones and turned on Crosses by José González tuning them out.

“Where is the line?” Max asked Warren as they approached the crowded complex filled with restaurants on one side and the amphitheater on the other side. Tents were set up here, even.

“This is what I call natural selection. If you come prepared with prior knowledge on how this works, you can conquer this haphazard looking line.” Warren spread his arms out, motioning towards the crowd that was rapidly growing in size.

“Let’s go, Warren.”

“Wait!”

Like an octopus, Brooke latched onto Warren dragging him into the depths of the growing sea of people. After three painful hours of waiting, Max felt the crowd start to lighten up around her as excited but deafening chatter filled the air of the surrounding herd of people. Everyone was clamoring loudly, quickly rushing into the open doors with their San Diego Comic Con day pass thrown around their neck.

As soon as Max received hers, she eagerly threw her day pass around her neck. After buying a small breakfast sandwich from a booth, Max decided to start people watching. Some of the cosplays made her laugh like the Darth Vader cosplayer leading a conga line of faithful storm troopers, taking long confident strides.

Max took several photographs of several different cosplayers, ranging from Doctor Who, Scott Pilgrim vs The World, The X-Files, Breaking Bad, Undertale, Magic: The Gathering, and Family Guy. When it started getting crowded, she got up from her chair and entered the large archway into the convention center filled with colorful tents and cosplay galore.

Wielding her camera bag close to her waist, Max carefully maneuvered her way through the sea of people as she took a look at the booths. Suddenly, the throng of people became too much for Max. An elbow into Max's side pushed her into the left side of her waist, throwing her into a booth.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Max’s eyes glanced up towards a blue-haired girl cosplaying as Pris from Blade Runner, who had grabbed her waist. Something about her was actually kind of familiar, however, Max couldn’t tell. “You hit that table pretty hard.”

Max felt the warmth from her waist leave slowly. “This crowd is suffocating. I need a place to breathe around here. It’s too claustrophobic for my liking.”

“Are you alone or something? Because I could always use company in my tent. It gets hella boring inside this tent sometimes.”

“Do you say that to all of your customers?” Max asked, chuckling nervously at the blue-haired cosplayer’s comment.

“No.” She mumbled something under her breath that Max didn’t quite catch. “I mean – unless you’re uncomfortable with it. I’ve seen people faint multiple times from claustrophobia here.”

Since her head was bent down over a sketch she was doing in a journal, the only way Max could tell that the girl was blushing was by how red her ears had gotten. The realization that the girl became a nervous wreck all of a sudden after that comment had made Max’s day already.

“Maybe you’re right. I should just sit down. There’s no places to sit around here, though.”

The blue-haired girl patted the armrest of the empty fold-out chair behind the table. “This is Rachel’s chair, but Rachel is helping out with the convention rave for later. She’s on the committee or some ****.”

“Coworker?”

“And an annoyance at times.” Max went around the table, taking a seat in the chair the girl patted. It was itching at her brain that there is something about this girl that is so nostalgic.

Suddenly, a long brunette-haired girl billowed through the back curtains of the booth, where Max saw a tattoo chair in the back along with an extended table with clutter everywhere. “Chloe, do you have my phone? I really need it right now.”

Wait a second. “Chloe?”

“Great. Thanks a lot, Rachel. You ruined the element of surprise.”

"No ******* way!"

After Chloe handed the phone to Rachel, Max followed with her first impulse, throwing her arms around Chloe. Immediately, Chloe laughed as Max nuzzled her head into Chloe's shoulder blade. Max could feel the initial excitement pounding in her chest as Chloe tightened her grip on her as well. “Get a room, Chloe.”

“I will shove this combat boot so far up your *** –”

“Okay, I’m leaving. I need to call Frank and see when he was going to get here.” Rachel stated matter-of-factly, then added as she was leaving, “Hope you have a fun reunion.”

Once Chloe let go of Max, she held onto her arms staring into her face. “Wowser. This is crazy. You’re dressed as Pris from Blade Runner. That is definitely my ****.”

“I hope so. Someone asked me if I’m cosplaying Ramona Flowers from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Now I will accept that misunderstanding because Ramona Flowers is my woman crush.” Chloe glanced over at Max, changing the mood merely by narrowing her eyes at the brunette. “Alright, are you going to explain why you didn’t call or text me for five years?”

It was so sudden that Max suddenly felt inferior to Chloe. "I'm sorry. My parent's decision to suddenly move to Seattle wasn't my choice."

"That's not a good enough reason." Chloe attempted to change the tone of the mood lighter, since this wasn't exactly the place to discuss that. "So what's up with you? Living it up here in San Diego or something?"

"I - uh - moved back to Arcadia Bay. Two months ago."

"Without a phone call, telling me that you moved back." Chloe pressed her lips together, annoyed. "Nice one, Caulfield. That's just ******* peachy."

Max started to get a little irritated herself. "Look, I'm sorry. Can we just drop it?"

"I’m sorry, Max. I don’t want to be the ******* to ruin your day. In fact, this was the complete opposite impression I was going for. If you want to punch me for being such an annoying rat, go right on ahead.” Chloe pointed at the bicep of her left arm.

I shook my head – chuckling as Chloe kicked back her chair – propping her feet onto the table cluttered with various types of artwork. There was a dozen pieces of art here, but I noticed Chloe was really into abstract watercolor paintings. Mostly Chloe did sketches of characters from TV shows and video games and painted it in watercolor. One of the paintings in particular caught my eye.

Of course – like all of Chloe’s paintings – it was strikingly beautiful: In front of an obsidian background was a butterfly with eye-popping azure wings. One of the wings seemed to be slightly blurred to give more definition to the closest wing. “Wow, you’re a real artist.”

“I’m also a tattoo artist. If you want to get a tattoo, just hit your girl up. It’s on the house for you.” Chloe said, holding out her arm to show me. “Rachel helped me with both designs.”

Chloe had a beautiful sleeve on her arm and a tattoo on the top of her hand of a red chrysanthemum. Max traced the red ribbon detail on her arm tattoo with one finger, making Chloe shiver. “Dude, you can look, but you can’t touch the tats.”

“Sorry, it’s beautiful.”

“Hopefully it will still look beautiful when I look like the human equivalent of a raisin when I’m 80.” Chloe joked, holding out her arm in front of her face. “How about it, Max? Wanna get tatted up by your best friend Chloe? It might be a great experience for you, hippie. No gang related tattoos, though.”

“Yeah, because I’m totally a part of a gang.”

The smile that lit up Chloe’s face sent Max into a comatose state of delirium. Her eyes focused in on Chloe like a lens, taking shots in her head so she didn’t forget this moment with her best friend. For once, Max was having fun. “You’re still a ******* geek. That’s good news.”

“Always.”

Chloe shook her head before getting up. “Alright, so do you want a tattoo or not? This is your final offer, Max. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“I don’t know. You know I’m scared of needles.”

“Still?” Chloe grabbed Max’s shoulders. “Come o
Things that go 'bump' in the night
Should not really give one a fright.
It's the hole in each ear
That lets in the fear,
That, and the absence of light!
duhastnach Mar 2015
You're a one night stand
But we spent too many nights
I lost count of it.

You're that unexpected kiss
On a drunken wasted night
Of vomits and *****.

You're that awkward hi
Exchanged by strangers who
Thought they both knew each other
But were clearly mistaken for another.

You're the bruise that turns blue
When I accidentally bump my leg
On the corner of the bed.

You're the scar that I never
Knew I had.

You're the bittersweet taste in
My mouth every morning.

You're the last thought lingering
In my head before slumber takes me
And you're the vagueness that
Haunts me in my dreams.

You're the scalding hot shower
In a cold freezing morning.

You're the boiling tea that numbs
My tongue for the rest of the day.

You're the obsession
I will never learn to let go of.

You're that person I will
Never get to call mine.

You're the one that got away.
Surrationality Apr 2013
Bump bump bang bang
the world goes numb.
Numb from the cold.
Hearts aren't for love anymore,
just blood.
Blue blood like the rest of us,
we can't get enough oxygen to make it red.
The drugs do it for us now,
do everything.
We barely have to think,
we barely have to move.
Drugs do our jobs, we used to joke,
but our bodies are still there.
We just aren't sure where exactly
there
is. It seemed like yesterday we were alive--
we think.
We sort of remember warmth.
We sort of remember laughing.
We sort of remember nostalgia,
a memory for years past and
lessons learned from previous failures.
We remember once when a man
said he would do something and did it,
gratis,
out of the goodness of a loving heart.

Hearts aren't for love anymore.
Just blood that spills.
We see it all the time now.
We know what it looks like
dried and cracked,
stained on our clothes.
We don't run from blood anymore
because we understand that
soon
our blood will leave our hearts
and stain our carpet or street.
This does not scare us because
we understand it as inevitable.
We remember when death was frightening.
We remember when blood was uncommon.

We remember the sun.
Clouds, gray and bleak,
rain putrescence down every day
on the homes that used to be warm.
We sort of remember warmth.
We remember feeling
things,
any things.
Temperature, moisture, emotion.
Love.
We remember until the bump bump bang bang-
CataclysticEvent Oct 2018
Your dad died.
It's just another bump in the road of life.


My dad was not a bump in the road.
He was a sink hole in the middle
Of my house.
It was a 100 car pile up on the highway,
And i'm the one on the bottom.

My dad dying was not a bump in the road.
It was a devestating loss.
Don't tell me what I lost.
Do t tell me to get over it.
That I haven't had it that hard.

My dad dying was my world falling apart.
My Axis tilting.
And that is what I lost.

You sit there and act like life,
Is some simple game.
You can smile through,
Because it's all sunshine and rainbows.

It's not and I'm angry.
I'm so angry he gone!
I'm so angry he got taken from me,
And my daughter.
I'm so angry!!!
That he died,
And my alcoholic mother,
Who treated me like trash,
She's still alive.

Don't tell me my dad dying,
Was another bump in the road of life.
To me,
Him dying was the end of the whole world,
As I knew it.
A good friend of mine told me to **** it up, it's just life.  And because I do great grade wise in nursing school I should be happy.  But I do great because I stidy so much because I'm afraid to sleep. Or stop to think.
Desireé Clarke Mar 2013
What’s real and what’s not
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting my opinionated perspective
On the screen in front of me
The world
Black, White, Mexican, Asian, Mixed
In a melting *** flooded
With curry, and rice and beans, **** chicken, and goat
With hamburgers, and fries, macaroni and cheese, and granola bars
With queso fresco, crema, tortillas, and salsa verde
With Panda mother ******* Express and P.F. Changs
My mind is constantly swallowed by the odors of the foods that paint the cultures I’ve come to know
The past and the present hold each other

What’s real and what’s not
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting back my opinionated perspective
Was I swimming upstream against the current
In the concrete river
People
Shadows of people wandering by
Behind me and all around
Adjusting to the light
My eyes have been closed for three years
Destroying the things my brain once knew for certain
Twirling in and out of conscientiousness
Now in front
They were rude, or I was nice
The kind of nice that is tactful and seemingly honest
What is honesty
The propulsion of my perspective patronizing the populated and political landscape
Laid out before me
I’m ******
****** about the things I cannot change
The unknown

What’s real and what’s not
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting back my opinionated perspective
Jesus Christ
These bible thumping loath driven arrogant theists
All wrapped in the pages of a novel horribly written
By white guys
We never know if they existed
Using their paper to roll joints
The smoke is heavenly
The rapture of the earth
Jesus Christ plants that grow in the ground
Blooming with godlike odors affecting the mind
It runs slower or faster opens and closes
Slapping their wives when they return home from work
Cursing about how they’ve acted like children
Jesus Christ the congregation of family
The head of household
The hands planted in the ground
Gripping at gravel through tightened fists
Hair falling in face catching on tears
Jesus Christ

What’s right and what’s wrong
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting back my opinionated perspective
A blast through a door
Glass shattered on floor
Children’s wails running down halls
Walls chipped with pain
Revealing the stone
The foundation of violence
Guns don’t **** people
People **** people
Children silenced by the bang
Heavy breathing under teal blankets
Cotton and fabric torn to shreds at the sound
Blue turns red when it is exposed to air
Rivers running deep sinking through floor boards
Dripping on the faces of the family downstairs as they eat dinner
Chewing open mouthed
Licking lips in tenderness and gluttony
Painting their lips red with the blue that fell through
The ceiling

What’s right and what’s wrong
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting back my opinionated perspective
Hands touching lips, touching genitals, all drenched in fluid
Hearts beating
Bump bump, bump bump
And speeding with each ******
Bodies banging together
Eyes diverting, darting, dancing, anywhere but in the ones that gaze upon you
The thrusting, pumping, thumping and screaming
Putting on a show for the floor
For the walls that absorb the sound
“****, **** yeah, just like that”
The scrambling for clothes
Tripping over cans
Social lubricant        
That kept the eyes closed just enough
Or put on those goggles that somehow made you attractive

What’s right and what’s wrong
I see through the mirror of my eyes reflecting back my opinionated perspective
We only see through the eyes we own
And the eyes I own are bias
I hate parties and economic manipulation
Being a slave whipped by some man in a black or grey suit I can’t afford
Being pressed by advertisements that tell me I’m too fat to find love
Being strangled by the fiat that is determine to destroy artistic expression
Appling for education, and permits, and jobs that I may never get
Because the color of my skin is too dark
Because the sound of my voice is too light
Because I cannot stomach the lies that are perpetuated
And refuse to become part of a herd that screams
“Obama for president”
I am free
In the sense that my perspective is mangled
Changes each day
Eyes reflecting inward
Clawing at release and some small moment’s sense of comfort
Only to then breathe my last breath
To gasp one more time for air
Find enlightenment
And then die when truly
I will see through the mirror of my eyes
And it will reflect back my opinionated perspective
Krystina Durfee Nov 2011
Tick tick tick.
Hear it?
The clock... ticking.
Ticking like a time bomb about to go off.
Your heartbeat is also like the ticking.
Bumo bump bump.
Let the beat take your heart to another melody.
Spin to the beat.
Spin faster, faster, FASTER!
Spin your mind into another demention.
Let your mind wander.
Your mind control is working.
Controlling my body with your hands.
Like a puppet amoung the strings.
Your flaws are my view of perfection.
My flaws are my only destruction.
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
I see my heart beating out of my chest.
Can you hear it?
Bump bump bump.
Can you smell the fear?
I can feel your eyes on me.
They are piercing my skin like needles.
I try to speak, but my throat is dry.
My heart is racing fast, faster, faster!
I see your face in my dreams.
Your eyes of pure sky blue.
They see into my soul, taking me under control.
My body goes cold.
I can hear nothing but my heartbeat in my ears.
Then you speak, little words.
In that tone of voice that freezes my heart and makes time stop.
My body goes cold, and I freeze in place.
I wait for you to approach me.
I wait, and wait... and wait.
Finally it hits me.
I've gone crazy...
I've started seeing things...
Those night terrors again.
I awake, dripping in sweat and panting.
I say to myself, "Those **** night terrors again."
Then I hear the voice again...
"You're not alone, you're just as heartless as I."
Marcus Well Feb 2018
And so we voted him in, our president elect;
Some for him, some against, some thought,
“What the heck…”.
Although the spectrum was wide in range,
Not another eight years,
We voted for change
Even if strange
To end the slump, bump ***
Donald Trump, bump ***
Donald Trump.

Hillary didn’t nod; she just shook her head.
The DFL kept time, “Obamacare’s dead”.
Although the popular vote showed her ahead,
But by strategic knowledge
The Electoral College delivered the thump
That landslided Trump, bump ***
Donald Trump.

What will happen now as all speculate?
Be great, America, again as they state?
Is it just rhetoric, too much or too late?
No more campaign debate!!
It’s on their plate right out of the gate
And all in a clump, bump ***
Donald Trump.

And if it doesn’t work, and things just get worse,
If alliances break down, not as rehearsed,
And gridlock walls build up that do not make sense,
We’ll have to stay the course,
And in our defense while straddling the fence
If decisions get dense, bump ***
We’ll still have Mike Pence, bump ***
Michael Pense
Myriah Jul 2015
I remember when
you were just
A small bump
in your mother tummy  
It's funny I still  remember that night
I still remember the first time
I held you in my arms
I was looking into your eyes
And sweet child
You melted my heart away
Who knew you grow to shine
Brighter than the stars
Seth Honda May 2018
Pearly white keys,
Hammers,
And strings.
All laced together in a mahogany symphony.
A piano.

Melodies dance through the air,
Spinning circles round my head,
Making me dizzy with joy.

A tiger dances across the keys and into my ears,
Putting memories of a zoo in my head.
Remembering walking down the tiger habitat.
Hand in hand with my father,
Tugging at his shirt.
He wore green that day.

Images of a butterfly landing on my finger prance through the space between me and her and land on the tip of my nose.
It is pure happiness.

They say a butterfly will land only on someone pure with bliss,
It lands on me as I look over at her.
Her fingers gliding so effortlessly across the smooth ivory,
This song is music to my ears.

Her hair falling so effortlessly on her shoulders.
She looks at me and smiles,
Her eyes crinkle at the corners as music flows from her fingertips.
She is her own symphony.
Her laugh the drums,
Her voice the flute,
And her singing a chorus of violins.
She is a symphony to make Beethoven blush.

I gape in awe at her beauty,
At the beauty of the music,
The music filling the space between us.
She looks happy.

Her hands dancing over the piano, A smile lights up her face.
Highlighting her grin
And her chocolate brown eyes.
The dark brown curls flowing down from the top of her head.

Our arms touch.
I can feel her symphony in my bones,
One of sadness.
One of hope.

I feel her happiness resonate through my arms and send chills down my spine.
The sound of her fingers running across the piano keys are drowned out by the pounding of my heart.
Bump bump.
Bump bump.
I can feel it in my throat,
And I lean in.

The music stops.
Our lips touch.
I can feel her beauty resonate through my body.

Pearly white ivory teeth,
Perfectly parted lips,
And breath.
Laced together in un pelle symphonie.
May 2, 2018 || 5:46 PM

— The End —