hues of color
black and purple
depth of darkness
end of life
shores of paradise.
Destiny - Chapter FourOver the next few months I started to explore my "gift" as I had taken to calling it. It was getting stronger, becoming overwhelming most of the time. I would walk into a room simply to be bombarded with other people's emotions; I didn't know which ones were mine and which ones weren't. I could control myself well enough that I never had a breakdown in front of anyone but Tempest, my little sister, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide. After several weeks of being on an emotional roller coaster, she finally suggested that we work together to help me control the emotions and try to block them out.
It wasn't an easy process in the least. During this exploration I began to research. I needed to know if this was an anomaly or not, and if not, I need to know how to contain it, how to act and why I even had it.
I devoured every resource I could on the old Celtic religions, the era in which the earth and nature was worshiped; where the Mother Goddess and the Horned One rule
Love in a Hopeless Place
As I sit on my couch with my beer and my shot of whiskey in front of me, the sounds of music thumping through my speakers and my blood, I start to think about the past. It's been a year, and it's hard to believe but it has been. I wish I could take all of my memories and filter them out and play them over again to the sounds of my song, just so you could see them. See what I went through, hear what I heard.
I see them all just flashing over and over: the day we first met, the smile and the hug I was greeted with. The smell of my cigarettes and the dirty city streets as we walked to the movie theater the bitter taste of the whiskey on my tongue and the burn as it slid down my throat.
You found me in a bad time, the stress, the drinking, the drugs, the cutting even the abusive boyfriend. I had all the marks of a girl spiraling out of control. I wish I could put my memories into words just for once, to let someone else see it from my eyes: the times we drove around at 1 in
Destiny - Chapter ThreeThe fire flickered and sputtered in the fireplace. It was Thanksgiving and I was trying my hardest not to go crazy. The church had rented a hall for the meal and there were people everywhere. I still did not have a very good grip on controlling my gift and all the thoughts flowing around me were giving me a migraine. It was difficult sifting through all the thoughts swirling around. But when I was by the fire, it almost deadened the sense a little bit.
I looked up when I "heard" a thought from a person I knew well. Why hasn't he answered yet? Oh god, I hope nothing happened.... My sister was pacing nearby. She sighed and walked over to me. She sat down next to me and ran a hand through her hair.
"He's fine." I told her, without moving my gaze from the fire.
She visibly started. "W-who?"
"Jake." I responded, referring to her 'secret' boyfriend. Neither of us were technically supposed to date. She was going through some special classes at church. And I was still in high-school. Ap
Destiny - Chapter TwoMy life wasn't particularly charmed; I was a regular baby, and then an average child. My baby sister was born when I was two and I didn't understand the fuss and hubbub about her. She cried and screamed and slept and that was about it. Rather boring. In fact my cat was more interesting than she was.
My story starts with my eleventh birthday, actually the story starts long before then, but for it mainly started once I hit puberty. Up until then I had been carefree, the only distress in my world being whether or not I could get my math homework completed and still have time to play outside. It was then that the nightmares started. Oh I had always had bad dreams for as long as I could remember, only now, instead of being chased by dinosaurs and drowning in huge vats of chocolate, I was being chased by skeletons and rotten corpses, drowning in seas of blood and seeing my family and friends killed while I watched, unable to close my eyes. I dealt with these dreams by myself, even now, fifte
Destiny - Chapter OneI wasn't supposed to be alive. They called me the Miracle Child. Born more than a month before I was supposed to, I didn't even have lungs that worked. My heart? It had a hole in it. My own mother wasn't even able to hold me after I was born. As soon as I was born, the only arms I felt were those of doctors.
I never knew why I didn't die then. More than that, besides the occasional sickness that almost every child suffered, I was incredibly healthy.
For as long as I could remember, there was a painting that hung over the doorway to my room in my family's small apartment. A picture of three angels. My mother said that they reminded me of her and my older sister and my younger brother. I didn't know about all that. What I knew was that those nights that even as a young child that I couldn't sleep for whatever reason, I was able to find elusive sleep as I looked at that painting.
As a child, I had a vivid imagination. My imagination that had me writing stories in my notebook when I was su
Destiny - Prologue"She wasn't supposed to live!" came the hissed, angry voice from the shadows.
"No, she wasn't. But what is done is done. There was no reason for her death. He did what he saw fit in the time of difficulty."
"There was a reason you ignorant fool! There is always a reason. Her death was for the strength and trial of the eldest. It would have made her into a formidable opponent, changed the future of this world and theirs for good! It was ordained."
"This too was written in the stars. Her life and that of her sister has been etched in the stars since the beginning of time itself. Her life will strengthen the eldest and the destiny of the eldest will form the life and strength of the younger."
"SILENCE!" came a firm voice from the edge of the forest. "Silence, both of you. There is a reason behind everything. The destiny of these two was changed the second the child took breath. She was not supposed to but she has, and thus it has changed the future. They
kissMake a wish on a kiss and blow it to the wind
Hope it finds the one in mind and brightly shines
With the deep love with which it was given.
Fragile Memories - ProlougeIt was black as pitch that night as I lay down to sleep. The only sounds in the house were that of the heater and the steady slow beating of my heart. I lay beneath my blankets in a cozy cocoon of blissful warmth and closed my tired eyes. As I drifted off to sleep, I dreamt. Very much in the manner of Alice down the rabbit hole. A dream, but yet a vague, cloudy memory of the past within the dream. And as I fell further down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, my memory returned to me....
I opened my eyes to the world around me, a world so familiar yet so foreign to me at the same time. The trees were large and ancient, gnarled in their wisdom and the length of their memories. silken images fluttered before my eyes in the forms of gauzy butterflies and glistening spiders webs, shiny with the smallest of dew drops clinging to their delicate strands. The wind whispered playfully through the fern fronds and stirred up the leaves of the highest of the tree tops.The sun filtered quietly
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flame
And eagles, turning, turn to fire
Ash cold, alone I lie
And think of you.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,
that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead.
It isn’t true.
It’s said the stench of hell infects the earth
and healths of heated blood are downed.
But Hamlet lied.
The dead know nothing, the living less.
There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;
souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
and when we kiss,
he says it
leaves him breathless,
is just two awkward kids
reminding each other to breathe,
that's all you need.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.(i know you're there before you do.)
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.
(-- closer, find syllables strewn
in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
and beg you stay.)
time enough for a kiss-
and-never-tell, for a stumbling waltz
to the dissonance of crystal-shatter odes
to the summerlong i knew you --
we were(n't) meant for more than this.
morning goes right through you,
and breathes a thousand fortunes in-
to shards of (our) stranger starfall.
You can't have it allbut you can have the glazed heat bursting from the blacktop like a broken
fire hydrant. You can have the jangle of keys
swinging from your hip with each stride.
You can have the tactility of leather and the graze of
bathroom mosaic tiles under a cold shower pelting
bullets and when the water cuts off
you can have dry book pages. You can have happiness,
though it will often be bitter, like finding a stranger’s
wallet full of pictures of smiling children until you
return it to find that the couple is barren.
You can have the scratches on the back of his knuckles,
faded, yet raw. You can have the translucency of sheets
in the sun, silhouettes but no details,
never revealing anything more than a fringe of hair
and frayed laces tripping over themselves.
You can drop obscenities like bombs until
they don’t mean anything anymore. You can pull out the Monopoly board
that broke your family. You can’t put it back together,
but you can pretend the thimble is your mother and the