Stepping out of the car, the taste of popcorn still lingered in my mouth. The night air was cold, but I still felt warm from happiness and excitement. The church in front of me was a silhouette, lights softly creating contrast of bricks and glass, and as the car behind me pulled away, I walked forward, excited to find my family so I could tell them about my night. At first, I waited outside, walking along the stone separators in the pathway. I sat on the edges of the flower boxes; I wandered around until my arms were growing cold. Finally, I was impatient enough to go inside, and try to find my parents.
I could hear the murmur of the voices
Some of our best conversations
Happened without words.
Just sitting next to you, staring into the night.
Everything that needed to be said was exchanged.
I used to fight with you so often.
Trying to pry the syllables from your mouth.
It's as if I'm stabbing into your sides:
Here I'm making you bleed a consonant.
There I'm making you flinch a vowel.
But the words, when formed,
They are misshapen because forced.
That little child in me that tried to make you speak,
Was trying to pull a butterfly out of its cocoon.
I wanted to hear what you felt.
When you were already trying to say it.
Words, they are my world.
I wander along
I look at the boy across from me, and think to myself: he doesn't look like a murderer. Confused, lost, maybe, but not a murderer. The adults talk in the background, and this Christmas morning feels hauntingly disconnected from the rest of the world. There in front of me, my cousin sits. Or, something like a second-cousin sits. We're related, but I don't know how. Somehow, those hard brown eyes, and that 8 year old body are related to me. I look at his face, I mean really look at it. It doesn't seem like a child is sitting there. It looks like everything inside him has quickly hardened to protect itself. My family doesn't believe he did what
There's a giant piggy bank on the soda fridge at my work. On the bottom is the name "Pork Chop". This bank has been here longer than I have, excluding one time when my bosses mother took it down to the jewelry store a few shops over. Now, it's back, but it brings a memory of the humorous time when the pig disappeared. I can only think of the elderly lady with the shaky smile that I watched carry it off.
She used to sit in the party area, chair back slightly and head tilted towards the television. She would watch Deal or No Deal, the news, and other game shows, but when the show would end I could sense it and go to change the channel for her.
We sit next to each other in every class but third period. Thats when he has government and I have physics. Hes a foot and a four inches taller than me, but most days I dont even realize it. I just look up to him that much. I still remember the day I officially started to see him as my friend. We both had our hearts broken, and sat next to each other in Spanish. My x had gone off with his. I wrote to him: It bothers you, doesnt it?
His reply was: Is it that obvious?
Only to someone who knows.
I could see his pain because I felt it. And somehow, that bond became our friendship.
Su
From day one, I saw her as my rival.
My boyfriend of the time introduced her to me as his friend, but my female mind felt threatened, and had trouble seeing her the like. She looked my double in many ways. She was a bit over 5 foot tall, with shoulder length brown hair. Like me, she was a writer and artist. The similarities made me on edge. All I saw when I looked at her was competition, something I admit I was unused to.
I had always been the writer in middle school. It was my craft, and no one had dared tread it. But this person had appeared in my life one day, looking much like a replacement as one person could. I tried hard to ignore my
I stare at the empty text message,
And try to think of the words to say.
My heart wants me to type one thing,
But my head knows I have to type another.
I wish I could say: "I'm crazy about you."
I wish I could say: "You mean everything to me."
I wish I could say: "I hate these rules.
These rules that mean I can't be your girl.
These rules that mean I constantly swallow my feelings,
And just be your friend.
I wish I could forget everything my heart is telling me.
Wish my heart didn't skip a beat when you're nearby.
Wish I didn't have to ignore the happy glow I feel inside me
When you touch my shoulder,
Or help me up.
I wis