I know your speaking
But I just can't seem to hear
Echoing silence is all that I feel
Withdraw deeper, pulling away
Distancing you from me
Please? Don't let me leave.
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
Blue PillI've only ever followed
the path already sketched
out for me, but the blueprints
print blues to my forehead;
to my forearms. Cracking smiles
is as taboo to me as crack rocks.
I've tried crossing the River Styx
on my own, but I always
find myself getting drowned
by the Ferryman, as he tells me
that it's not the right time
that it's over for me yet.
So I take the blue pill
and a handful of advil
to ease into reality.
PhoenixI won't be your phoenix,
your death wish
of maudlin words
stretched across this failing light.
I will not wear
new wings for you
that crimson you
were born with -
a mother's final wish
to keep out the winter
But I will wait,
the flaw and beauty
of your youth
painted across your palms
as you hold up
the moon to meet me.
RidaYou said your name
was Rita with a "d"
and let me blunder
my way through you.
You said I had charm
(and finesse was for amateurs)
I liked how you were a ladder,
how you could speak
in any accent you wanted;
you liked when I
did not change the sheets
or tie my hair back,
You had dropped
out of art school
where your father
still thought you were a virgin,
and I was bussing tables
on St. Charles.
We lived all that summer
in one room
and a kitchen.
You would fry plantains
and we would wash them down
with purple haze,
watching the musicians
silhouette their souls
against the sky.
you would tell fortunes
in Jackson Square
and men would pay
just to watch your copper hair
spill out their future
across the cards.
The city had never
seemed so clean
so fragrant with rain
and the daze of hibiscus
rioting in the courtyard
followed us in our sleep.
But autumn came too soon,
hooded in chill -
its mood ugly and resentful.
I watched you deadhead someone's roses
in the yard -
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
Authorshipyou’re the author
of this story - and yet
insist on playing
the role of a foil
when you could
rewrite the pages
as you wish.
Solemn TimbreMy heart is the rotten,
of an ark;
that once protected,
but now is a mere
of when there was hope
of things getting
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.
after the explosion
are these suns,
a faint projection
from an unreachable darkness,
And then everything is simultaneous;
the entangled mess,
And maybe it's all about editing and being edited-
The pilot painted across a desert,
A desert painted across the pilot.
Or the holographic drift, a surface reflection-
The expanse outside echoed inward,
Jagged orange treelines over the firefly black like someone holding onto a woman
(or the memory of a woman).
Or maybe just the T.V. relay
as I struggle to sleep,
from both dimensions
glowing and whispering:
The horses of your apocalypse/the apocalypse of your horses.