Thursday, March 31, 2011

Souls on Silent

 And when I'm jealous, I'm very, very jealous.
And I doubt that will ever disappear.
It cannot seem to learn how to.

It's too solid to teach invisibilty.
It's constant; a fact; a part of me.
But it's not me. It's not me.

No, I cannot allow myself to accept that kind of hate.
It's followed by regret. Shame.

And I'm watching you. Out for you.
Whichever one works best for you.


This is me
putting the souls
on silent.
Silently, silently.
Hush, be still.
You might miss

It's too late to try and
enjoy that view.

You'll have to pretend.
We all just pretend.
And then we'll believe.
We believe;
and that makes it real.

But that jealousy is on me,
you can't separate me from it
by means of words and hands.
Like you can everything else.


You won't be able to find me here
Your voice, which means so much to me,
I have to put distance between it and I.
Last one; last time.
No, temporary.
I promise, I promise I'll return.

I've got to search for something;
a purpose.
A reason for this productivity,
and fight that jealousy.
Overwhelming contentment
in fierce hatred.
No, I won't do it anymore.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

100 Facts About Deacon Seals

1. He loves angel food cake. (He actually just randomly texted this to me so I figured it would make a good first fact.)

2. He lives with his parents, older sister Tori, and nephew Braxton. (I'm not sure if I spelled that name right.)

3. He very well could live off of Little Caesar's Italian Cheese Bread, and he will tell you this every time he eats it.

4. If he went to Hogwarts, there is a very good chance he would be in the house of Gryffindor. (A side fact: he has never read the Harry Potter books, though he owns the last two and has seen the movies.)

5. He pretty much can't stand being cold. Quite the opposite, actually. He's crazy about being in stifling heat.

6. That's why he is considering the option of moving to Arizona.

7. He loves his new shoes, but hates the fact that now that he has them, everyone else is going to start getting them.

8. If he got the chance to spend a day with anyone from history, he would choose Nikola Tesla.

9. As far as books go, he isn't a huge reader, but he does enjoy the Percy Jackson series. And Greek Mythology in general.

10. Listing facts about Deacon doesn't nearly do him justice, because he's such a complex individual.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Excerpt: Isaac Winters Meets Pharaoh

This is completely part of a rough draft. I'm going to stress the rough on that. In fact, I wrote it during Cadet Teaching and on the bus ride for our band contest. But anyway, I figured I'd show you pieces of it.

It's about how one of my characters, Isaac, meets his future friend and pet dog, Pharaoh.

Pharaoh wasn’t really mine, before or after the time we met. I never bought him or had the dominant role in our friendship. We came upon each other, somehow, to say our “paths had crossed” wouldn’t quite cover it. We moved in separate circles, and then they merged together.
I was walking home one day. Dark clouds milked the sunny sky, and I can still feel it on my skin. The combat of the sky.
I was feeling…better that day. Not good or happy, because that was seldom the case. Next to never, not to sound too whiny. But the day before, I had walked home with a bloody nose that I could taste in the back of my throat somehow, and today I was unmarked, save for the battle scars from previous encounters. The bruises had taken on that pale green color, so I knew they were on the verge of healing. Even better. Maybe that meant shorts tomorrow.
I had the tendency to roll my feet when I walked, in order to prevent noise. That was pretty much my goal for everything. Silence. Stealth.
So I walked, silent, with the trails of indecisive weather and a lack of bloody nose, feeling mighty almost-fine, when a dumpster two blocks away decided to reenact a thunderstorm.
My head snapped up, alert. Intrigued.
My pace halted. Listening.
A whimper, almost like a squeak, then anger, then thunder.
I ran.
When I got about twenty feet away, dumpster blocking my view, I stopped to pick up a stone. Protection, you know.
Angry shouts were more audible now. Even, to my dismay, recognizable.
I had a choice: One, walk away and let them have their way with this victim, this kid who had taken my place that day, who would come out of this as I had yesterday. Beaten, humiliated, and tasting blood the whole way home.
Or two, I could scare them away. With this mighty rock. And my overall savage demeanor.
Obviously, I chose the latter.


They were huddled around me, but I was pretty incapable of moving at that point, save for my eyes. They were mocking me, throwing out laughs. I caught a few words about being a dead dog or something, to which I shouted, “You haven’t killed me yet, --!” Well, I tried anyway. It kind of came out all slurred and distorted. Anyway, then they left because poor [Name]’s scalp was oozing blood. What a baby.
After they left, I couldn’t really move, and all I could see were those dark clouds. Of course, it would start raining. Just my lucky day.
I struggled to turn my head to look at their other sorry victim. They had better be dead, I thought, because otherwise I’m going to be paralyzed for nothing and he didn’t even team up with me to rise against and fight opposing forces together. Sissy.
Instead, I saw him.
A dead dog.
And everything stopped. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from this small dog, nearly a puppy still, still and on its side, surrounded by a small stream of dark blood.
I felt the world shift. It kneeled down and gave a sigh of discomfort.
I inched my way closer to the adolescent pup, to see exactly how the blows ended its life. To fully examine the atrocity that still lingered on the street.
I crawled closer until I was hovering over his furry black body. Small and innocent.
And I saw myself.
The rain came, accompanied with my tears.
I was completely defeated, and my body hurt like hell, and I could not see any reason for getting to my feet and stumbling home just to be beaten again, inevitably, the next day, so I decided that the best thing for me to do was to die. I rolled over on my chest. Face down on the damp pavement.
(“Was it a pleasant day to die / and did the sunshine touch his face?”
Answer: Hell no. It was freaking frigid.)
And thus, I couldn’t hold my sobs in anymore. My lungs heaved and I cried out into the day. Into the damp afternoon.
Something beside me stirred.
I raised my head. Surely not.
An angry nerve; a last strive for life; a prolonging of the inevitable, perhaps?
But he twitched, he breathed, and his eyes slowly opened.
He was alive, and so was I.

Monday, March 28, 2011

100 Facts About Me

This is all the rage on Twitter right now, and instead of infesting everyone's News Feed, I decided to attempt this list here.

Also please note that I did not proofread this.

1. If you haven't noticed, my self-esteem sucks.

2. I am afraid of immense of space, which is why the depth of the ocean or outer space freaks me out. I could never be a scuba diver or astronaut. In fact, last night I had a horrible nightmare about a whale.

3. That being said, it is one of my dreams to see a whale shark. In captivity, not by fate.

4. (mini fact: I'm 17 years old.) I've only ever had two boyfriends in my whole life.

5. I've been single for almost two years.

6. When I'm alone in my car, I sing crazy loud and ridiculous.

7. I really like chocolate ice cream.

8. I grew up Lutheran, which was great. But me, my mom, and my sister (Karlee; @Cricket213) felt like we were missing something. So I started going to a Freewill Baptist church while they attended a Methodist church. We both attend those separate churches regularly.

9. There are different love languages, 1) through words 2) through touch 3) by service 4) gifts 5) if there was a fifth, I don't remember. Anyway, everyone has one. Mine is touch. If I put my hand on your shoulder or something of that nature, it's me showing my affection.

10. However, the way I receive feeling loved is by a combination of different things, but mainly gifts. That's not as arrogant as it sounds. Think of it in terms of someone thinking of you and doing something for you for no particular reason at all besides the fact that you are important to them.

11. My youth group performed a drama to "Everything" by Lifehouse for our church and neighboring church last month. Since I am one of the only senior females in our youth group, I was to be the lead girl. I was extremely nervous about this and had to pray a lot, but overall it was a very good experience. Our performance can be seen here.

12. I love books, but I like buying them more than reading them.

13. Although I have constructed a mighty fine list of books I want to read before I die.

14. I feel like my name shouldn't be Emily. I think it should be something like Sylvia or Lydia.

15. I've worked at Little Caesar's for nearly two years. My favorite pizza is a baby pan (with a little extra sauce) with pineapple, mushroom, and onions on it.

16. I kind of see hallucinations. All of the time. Not entirely, because I visualize them happening and I know they're actually not, but I still see them.

17. One of my pet peeves is when people read my poems/view my pictures and don't comment on them. Because I really like to hear feedback. At least once in awhile.

18. My favorite girl name is currently Remedy.

19. My favorite boy name is currently Shay.

20. I don't listen to the radio, even during the past week and a half when I did not have my iPod. (All of my music got deleted and a friend had to put it back on.)

21. Relient K is my favorite band, but my favorite song is Your Call by Secondhand Serenade, and my favorite album is debatable, though I'm 86% sure it's His Last Walk by blessthefall.

22. I made up that percentage, but it seemed appropriate.

23. My best friend and I talk on the phone with each other every night, usually for about an hour.

24. I am absolutely terrified of aliens. And yes, I think life exists on some other planet, somewhere out there.

25. If you can keep a secret, I'll also tell you about my irrational fear of stickers. Don't make fun.

26. I would give up my dream of being a photographer to instead be happily married.

27. My birthday is May 18, 1993. I am the youngest of two girls. My sister is four years older than me.

28. I am a vegetarian, until July 4, 2011. This is because my friend Jenna wanted to try it, and I decided to join her so she wouldn't be alone. She didn't care to go a full year, so we decided on that date.

29. I have been a vegetarian before, for a whole year when I was a Freshman/Sophomore.

30. This year, I discovered Emily Dickinson. And I'm borderline obsessed now.

31. I write a lot of poetry myself. (I even recently created a Poetry page for this blog.) I'd love to be a poet when I'm older if I could actually make a good career out of it.

32. Recently, I started becoming almost addicted to Mountain Dew. So I stopped drinking it altogether. It's been a few weeks now, and I'm still going strong.

33. I shouldn't post half the things I do, especially since I know they can hurt others. And they're often way, way too personal.

34. I frequently had vivid dreams about Justin for six months following his death. And to be honest, I absolutely hated those dreams.

35. My life is surrounded by me liking people who like someone else. That pretty much sums everything up.

36. I was often made fun of in grade school because I had really long hair. I always wanted to cut it as to end this, but my parents made me keep it long.

37. My parents are still married and even though they wouldn't let me cut my hair, I love them.

38. In my house, the four of us are all addicted to popcorn and iced tea.

39. I actually am fond of Missouri.

40. My favorite movie is MirrorMask, followed closely by Little Women.

41. When Peter Pan (the one with Jeremy Sumpter) came out on video back in 2004, my sister and I watched it every single day for a month straight.

42. I can't see the number 42 without thinking of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. And I still remember the first time I saw that movie, with Jenna.

43. My first for real blog started on MySpace back in 2006.

44. I am terribly shy.

45. It takes me all of five minutes to straighten my hair.

46. I had a car a year and a half before I ever had my license. This is because I first got my car two 1/2 weeks before I turned 16, and I didn't get my license until 17. I failed the first time so bad that I was terrified to take my test again.

47. My car's name is Haven. It's a boy. And despite what some might think, Haven is perfectly capable of being the name of male.

48. Because I said so, that's why.

49. My favorite book is For One More Day by Mitch Albom.

50. It's 10:00 PM. I have a paper due tomorrow morning and I still haven't written half of it.

51. It's over how I think that book banning is wrong, in case you wanted to know.

52. I haven't kissed anyone in a year and a half.

53. The only shoes I ever really wear are Converse.

54. I also write stories. Long, short stories.

55. My bedroom walls serve as a scrapbook from the past five years.

56. I don't know anyone else who has dreams as crazy as mine.

57. I don't like the Beatles,

58. but I want to hold your hand.

59. I've been in band for seven years. I play the clarinet. Except for the last four years (since I was a Freshman) I've played the bass clarinet during concert band.

60. His name is Francis, named by Karlee's friend, Caitlin. Don't tell Clari, but I kind of enjoy him more.

61. I eat Ramen noodles practically every day.

62. I am extremely ticklish.

63. My favorite pet was my dog, Venus. She died about a year and a half ago. Words can't describe how much I loved her, or how much I miss her.

64. We have another dog now. His name is Romeo, and he's the sweetest dog I've ever seen in my life. I do love him with all of my heart. But Venus was my girl.

65. My family did not name either of those dogs.

66. I could live off of cheese pizza rolls. This fact only comes to mind because I'm strongly craving them right now. (A side note: I still haven't worked on that paper yet.)

67. My other favorite book is The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I recommend it to anyone and everyone.

68. I get freaked out if I watch movies (or anything, really) in 3D. So I don't. And although I saw Avatar six times in theaters, I did not see it in 3D at all.

69. I analyze people a little too closely. Which is a nice way of saying that I'm a stalker/creeper.

70. When someone's cell phone goes off / a baby cries in a movie / church, it doesn't bug me as much as the people who turn around to stare at that person. Seriously, it's not their fault their lives don't stop.

71. My memory sucks.

72. I say the word "dude" excessively.

73. I cry every single time I sing "Beauty From Pain" by Superchick. I'm not sure why, because that song isn't linked to any tragic event in my life like a few other songs are. But it's beautiful.

74. It really bugs me to start off every (or most) sentence with "I," so I do my best to switch it up a little.

75. Children irritate me.

76. I hate wearing my glasses because my ears are crooked and thus, my glasses sit crookedly on my head. And I feel like everyone notices and thinks of how ridiculous I look. Which directly relates back to #1.

77. My favorite shows are Grey's Anatomy, America's Next Top Model, and Say Yes to the Dress.

78. Speaking of Grey's Anatomy, I can recite Meredith's "Pick Me, Choose Me, Love Me" speech by memory.

79. Jenna and I are going to Europe June 5th, after we graduate. I'm super ultra excited. For reals.

80. My sister is home, so I think I have to relocate.

81. I am not a ginger.

82. Foxes are my favorite animals. Followed by tigers, polar bears, and snakes. I have a weird fascination with snakes.

83. Service dogs make me cry. Just the beauty of the whole thing.

84. I read every single OMG Fact that is posted.

85. I also read 99% of all of the blogs that my friends post. Because I love the fact that teenagers can write out of school and get their thoughts and feelings out that way.

86. Harry Potter fans will always be better than Twilight fans.

87. Although it should be mentioned that I was a Twilight fan long before the movies came out. Jussayin'.

88. I have a real hard time saying no to people. I kind of hate hurting their feelings.

89. I'm currently reading Brave New World and The Catcher in the Rye.

90. I just finished reading The Lord of the Flies.

91. The last movie I watched were: How To Save Your Dragon, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Don't Say a Word.

92. I absolutely hate the fact that I'm graduating, and the thought of everyone leaving, like I know they will, scares me to death.

93. I often feel like if I wasn't here, it wouldn't make any difference.

94. But I have the best friend in the whole world. And whenever I feel like 93, he lets me know otherwise.

95. I also have Jesus, and he's the bee's knees.

96. I have several favorite versus, one of them being Micah 7:7:
But as for me, I watch in hope for the LORD, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me.

97. I know a lot of non-Christians. My father is one of them. [it breaks my heart.] And if you are reading this and don't know my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, please talk to me. He loves you, as do I.

98. I like [brackets] more than (parenthesis).

99. I really need to write my paper now.

100. I still love you.

Thanks for reading.
I can't believe I really just did that.
[it took me two hours.]

Saturday, March 26, 2011

We still have some time.

I'm not sure what it is about this picture, but I really like it.

On Tuesday, I went on a photo hunt with Deacon. Sort of.

 And I can't breathe with these words on my tongue.
but San Francisco still sounds lovely,
cause he swears he still loves you.
He still loves you.

I'm not quite sure where this week has put me. Closer to realizing I'm a Senior. That I'm that much close to being gone. To having to say goodbye to everyone.

Because they're leaving.
Not me.
I'll be here.
That hasn't changed.

 But where will I be
when they're gone?
How will things be different?
Will everything change?

Perhaps not.

Goodbyes are short, but the effect remains.
Long after the words have dissolved.

Everything else on my mind, 
I really can't be honest about right now.
And so I'll save it for another time. 

 Anyway, Deacon is extremely hard to take photos of.
He's perfectly photogenic and everything, but he's just so frustrating. I wanted to punch him the whole time.
He's real proud of these shoes.

And just for fun:

More on that Thundersnowstorm.

This wasn't the planned photo post that I mentioned earlier, but after I published my last post I looked outside and the snow is just crazy. I mean, this time last week, I was getting a sunburn. This is what's happening right now:

Mom had to go to the store. And she took my car.

Happy Anniversary?

It is to be noted that this is my 50th blog post. Congratulations.

(This picture has nothing to do with this post, but I really wanted to share it.
It's from the St. Patrick's Day parade that we went to last Saturday.)

I'm working on improving the overall look of my blog, adding some additional pages and whatnot, and making it a little more friendly whilst (does anyone really use that word anymore?) keeping my personality plugged in. And seeing as I'm not tech-savvy in the slightest, you'll just have to bear with me.

Also, I plan on posting another blog later with a few pictures that I took earlier this week.

I hope you have a lovely day!
(Although here in MO, we're experiencing some kind of thundersnowstorm.)

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Development Through Trying Times

That's all you need to know right now,
But should you like to stay,
I'll be here--waiting, waiting
for you to come this way.

Though if I stand, here we are
in perfect symmetry.
A mirror image--though you are you;
You--and I am me.

The lesser power, the outcast, some
would only know to say.
But you would not, you lovely soul;
Your eyes see more than they.

And I remember a sunny day,
Cruel, from words and lies.
The day my hope in love had faded,
The day my future died.

Even so, I remained
the lesser power still;
Seeing your soul, safe and pained
had lasted long, until

I cried upon the soft grass,
I wrestled with your words.
I waited, waited with my heart
and soul, and mind in thirds.

I could not judge the moment,
or distinct regret.
But I can say for certain,
this I won't forget:

The way you laid beside me,
Silent, still, and lost;
How the decision hurt you;
How much this all would cost.

How even though your lovely soul
shone through--like the sun,
You could not feel its warmth that day;
Could not fathom what you'd done.

But in the late October light,
the beauty touched your face.
I watched it overcome that moment
as Time [sighed] and slowed its pace.

A beauty that I see today--
Yes, you're beautiful.
Though looking through this mirror-image,
I see this most of all:

I see the warmth, not of your skin,
But of your heart, and me--
Held together by your hands
and friendly company.

And should one leave, the other follows,
keeping a watchful eye.
Because who we are, supporting ones,
we help each other--try.

So in this mirror-image,
your problems, mine? The same.
Separate; friends; though much has passed,
I know who you became.

My love for you has doubled;
My friendship, stronger still;
And growing further--for we are
living; learning to be real.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Withdrawn Of Words And Realms

The moment comes,
but I've been waiting.
Three times, of course,
the charm.
And it's simple enough,
the idea.
The question
holds no harm.

And I'm in love,
that's all it is,
that's all - and what
of that?
No bright lights,
no face or hand,
detecting correct

For in the eyes
of those not seen,
it's a hope that is
because their own
are far more

Not to blame,
to them, or me,
or to him, who
steals my name.
This thievery -
quite well known -
is how he's earned
his fame.

And sinking further,
through dusk and pit,
through fire, ash,
and eyes.
Like a hawk,
on guard, aware
of your one friend:

But back to what
we knew before:
three times, that is,
and I,
was somewhere else
entirely. Too gone
for apt

For I was lost,
and still remain,
in none else but
of you.
For beautiful souls
capture mine,
without a hope 
of rescue.

a few pictures.


I took this picture of Jenna over the summer as a warm-up to her Senior pictures. I found it the other day and thought I would share it. And since we're talking pictures, I'm in the mood to post some of what I've taken over the past few days. =)
Also, I'm still retarded about uploading pictures to my blog, so I apologize.

I got my hair done on Monday. =)

Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

of home, or God

I've been pretty obsessed over these two Emily Dickinson poems for awhile. They're both pretty similar. I know you get tired of me posting from her, but she's my favorite. And these poems are...well. They speak.

I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because—because if he should die
While I was gone, and I—too late—
Should reach the heart that wanted me;

If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted, hunted so, to see,
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me—they noticed me;

If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I'd come—so sure I'd come,

It listening, listening, went to sleep
Telling my tardy name,—

My Heart would wish it broke before,
Since breaking then, since breaking then,
Were useless as next morning's sun,

Where midnight frosts had lain!

To know just how he suffered would be dear;
To know if any human eyes were near
To whom he could entrust his wavering gaze,
Until it settle broad on Paradise.

To know if he was patient, part content,
Was dying as he thought, or different;
Was it a pleasant day to die,
And did the sunshine face his way?

What was His furthest mind, of home,or God,
Or what the distant say

At news that he ceased human nature
On such a day?

And wishes, had he any?

Just his sigh, accented,
Had been legible to me.
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?

And if he spoke, what name was best,
What first,
What one broke off with
At the drowsiest?

Was he afraid, or tranquil?
Might he know
How conscious consciousness could grow,
Till love that he was, and love too blest to be,
Meet -- and the junction be eternity?

Saturday, March 12, 2011

but they can sing.

Because I'm not that same girl you once knew, you know, the bold but shy girl who went along with plans and thought everything to be ... well, in the palm of her hand. Five years have passed, and I've had a taste of life. Just a little taste. But even so, I'm not the same.

And I'm not sure how we both got here and there, and I'm not sure how today became different from back then, but the fact is that it happened. Everything has happened.

So don't expect me to be that girl, the one with the plan, the one with the world at her feet. I'm in a corner now.


She's the reason that I'm still here, and you're the reason I want to be here, and everything is so twisted and beautiful and painful all at once that I really don't know how I feel about anything anymore, and so I'm just telling myself that if I take a step back and let things unfold that I'll be fine, I'll be just fine, and I'll be able to breathe whenever all is said and done. Because now, I have this lump caught in my throat and I struggle to catch my breath over the simplest of things.

It's a great thing, really. Truth.


Hypocrites. We're all hypocrites.

But they can sing.
And to what measure will they go to to save that? How much value is one redeeming quality compared to the rest? and when will you learn the simple things, when will you learn to be like the others?

You're not a child. You know this.


[I just want you to tell me I'm beautiful.]

And the difference is, that there is a difference. That it means something more, something deeper. Maybe not to you, but to myself. That when you are in the picture, I'm walking on pins and needles. And I try so hard to be what you want me to be.

And I try so hard to be in the background.
I try so hard to disappear.

And I try so hard to put things together for you.


It's all worth it,
because those two? They sing.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Me, brainstorming out loud.

[my thought process in regards to brainstorming a specific character and his role in my story. this started out in my head, but in order to prevent things getting lost or jumbled, I decided to type as I thought, because things seem to flow whenever I have my blog on the screen]

And I was thinking to myself, What situation can he be put into that would equal his own personal hell, that would give him the greatest amount of mental torture? The facts: he loved his dog. His father was an alcoholic that ignored him. He was a walking ghost at school, and when people actually did draw attention to him, it was only to engage in humiliation. He loved a girl that was above him, a girl that felt like they weren't on the same level, and even though she would have liked to know him, she never got around to it.

In his life, he lived, but he did not exist.
That's the foundation of what his character is built upon. That he was ignored, that he didn't exist. That's what pushed him over the edge.

But that wasn't enough.
If we got down to the core of the matter, what is it that really disintegrated his life?

It wasn't so much that he didn't exist. It's that he did exist, and others saw the pain he went through, the struggle and the humiliation, and they chose to let it be so. They did not reach out, they did not say a word. In the end, they knew the consequences, they knew what could and what was probably going to happen, and yet they ignored him still.

And that's what really makes up my character, Isaac Winters. Neglect.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Death and Life and Land

Tell me something, here I stand.
You fall silent, though demand
that I listen well, and care, and speak,
and fill the air when the moment's weak.

As I lay, I dream of time:
the happiness when you were mine;
the failure of my love for you;
our dreams that failed to come true.
And when you stopped, I stopped, too.

My calling to you is the same
Except with you, we remain.
And let me know, why would that be?
Being that once, we were you. Then me.

And I know the answer from long ago,
I know you felt you had to go.
Your friends here, they're here, they miss you so,
more than you could ever know.
But when you decided to leave, you did
even though you were just a kid.
We all were - kids. Young, but aged.
Now closed in, now incaged.
We're calling you, we find your name
without response. We're not the same.

And I wonder if you pondered Death
before you took your last breath.
And if you gladly took her hand
and saw her battle Life and Land.
I often wonder, where was God?
Was he too busy traveling abroad?
Too busy for you to seek His name,
too busy for compassion, or shame.
I often wonder what you became.
And I know not, because your face
held no sign of Saving Grace
as I looked upon it - pale, and dead.
But maybe you found Peace instead.

And in my failure, I shall rise,
though I'm haunted by goodbyes.

Bound together, you and me,
as well as one more, beautiful she,
and we make three.
We three, we well could be
friends to the highest degree.
Except for one, the absentee,
She who leaves the family tree,
and instead fights to be free.

I see the sadness attack your face.
This is the girl that none can replace.
And I know you've always loved her so,
And who could bear to let her go?

During this time, I tremble in fear
for all of those that I hold dear.
For Death and Life shall fight again
many times over fates of men,
and who should win? I hope that one
can save you all from what's been done.

And here's the truth: we're all terrified
of being alive with Death close beside.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

excerpt from chapter 3

Part of the story I'm writing. I wrote this today between classes, thought I'd share it.
Also, it's kind of ... mushy. Most of the stuff I write is. Haha. It's all death and love triangles. But anyway, here you go.


“Hello, Riley. I’m Aaron. Do you know how long you’ll be staying here?”
She looked up at him like he was speaking a foreign language. She didn’t even know where here was, and no, she did not want to stay for another moment.
But then she saw him. Not Aaron, but sitting to his right, a boy. A man that had been hastily thrown from his adolescent years. He stole her breath away and rooted her to the spot. And that was all it took to be there, to forget life and death and the leaky faucet and skeletons and the other nine pair of eyes, because he had her tied to him indefinitely within a moment of that one fateful glance.
His face, like the others, was without any color at all, along with arms like bones, but underneath the deadness of his physical body, he was nothing short of beautiful. Though everything about his body seemed worn away from what it had been before he came to this place, his eyes remained. Blue eyes that looked like pools of the Arctic Ocean, eyes that could freeze her to the bone, which was quite possibly what was happening to Riley at that very moment.
And she could not think, she could not focus or break away from anything that was not him, this beautiful boy sitting across the table from her. Had she ever seen someone so pure, so enchanting, in all of her life? There he was and here she was and she didn’t know how but she knew him, she just knew. That he had a life before this death, that he had lived with a past but with no future. That he, in all his perfect simplicity, had been thrown into a world that knew complexity and his mind was a direct reflection of the imbalances of the two. That this boy, this man, was here but did not belong here at all, in this place that consisted of death and dark and cold. But as long as he remained, she had a place here. She no longer had a choice to stay or go. She was bound to him, rooted to the ground, frozen within the walls of time and space.
And so, eyes still locked on the boy, she replied, “Always.”