Strawberry Swing

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<----Prologue

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So

Um

How do I say this?

There really isn’t a way to

That doesn’t sound

Well

Retarded

But

I—

I met my soul mate

when I was fifteen

Granted,

I didn’t know it at the time

No

Not at all

He was my friend

Well not immediately.

At first he was just a guy

Chin-length hair

Goatee.

He

played guitar

Don’t they all?

He had a kind smile

That was all teeth

And made you feel like

You’d done something right

His eyes were a brown

Like his hair

That was mostly flat

But had this light

Like he knew something you didn’t

That always amused him

But he never would share.

Anyways

That first day

He gave me a guitar pick

After serenading my friend

And pardon me

I lied

This first time I met him

I was actually fourteen

So I think it’s understandable

That that gesture

Of his twenty-five cent

Piece of plastic

Became very precious

And I kept it

In a special box

Of keep sakes.

I lost it

A year later

Once I started carrying it around

in my jeans pocket

but I’ll get to that.

Stupid thing

Has gotten me off track—

I didn’t see him again

Until he was a classmate

Which was odd

Considering he was two grades

Older.

 I could

Spend pages

And pages

About all the little things

The many

Little things

And then the big

And very insistent things

That made my fifteen year-old

Very inexperienced self

Realize

That I was being flirted with

Wanted

And

You know

I really liked it

It’s wasn’t that

No one

Had made any moves before

They had

But I was just so uninterested

That it didn’t matter

But this

This mattered

Because I wanted him too

Even though I couldn’t

Have put it that way

In those words

No

I liked his company

 His kindness and attention

Toward s me

How he desperately

Tried to make me laugh

Succeeding 99.9% of the time

Just like how I wanted

To make him smile

to see him happy

and give him everything

I could offer

Which wasn’t much

Considering

I was

Fifteen,

At the time

Remember?

Fifteen

And very ignorant.

So that is why

When he said

“I love you”

While squeezing me

As hard as he could

For the zillionth time

I had no problem finally saying

“I love you too.” 

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Pause--->

Three Cheers for Organization!

Check out my page for my new project! I'm super excited because the more I work on and think about it the more right it feels. :) 

Those Days and Thereafter

Prologue

So, here's the plan: I'm starting a new sequence. 

Yes, I said sequence, not story because even though it is a story, it's not fictional like everything else I've done so far. Nor will it be in my usual format. It's going to be stream-of-consciousness, free style poetry. I'll be compiling a series of poems into one book. And I really plan on finishing this. I think I can too. Yes, I feel like I need to finish this before I do anything else. I won't spoil much more because I think you'll understand from the prologue. :) 

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Writing

Requires heart

And in most cases

In order to have heart

That a reader can feel

pouring out of the words

there must be experience

an extensive knowledge

of what they are trying to share

sure

most people

even those that are not writers have heard this

but do they know

that what is worth putting into words

is the easiest to write

and the hardest to share?

Writers

Know

That your pain

Is your most beautiful weapon

And learning to wield it

May be one of the most important things you do

For yourself.

Writing it

Screaming on paper

To whatever

Whoever

Has kept you

From sleep

Is not what you need to do

Because you’ve done that

And trust me

It does not belong in a folder labeled “X”

Within a folder labeled “Me”

Then categorized between Reality and Fantasy

It belongs on the front page of your blog

In an email to every person you know

Sent out to publishers and newspapers

It deserves music

Billboards

To be quoted by strangers

Because they are the words

That they needed

To express their own pain

That is just like yours.

Friend,

Don’t fret

About mistakes

 inappropriate tendencies

Or Those eyes

Finding your words.

Let instinct

Speak for you

Be harsh

And irrational

But most importantly

Be honest

If my preaching

Has made you wonder

I am talking to myself

More than you

But surely

You knew that

So now I’ll begin

Heading my own advice

And yes

My hands are shaking

But I’ll thank myself

In the end.

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Strawberry Swing--->

Sleep

I’m trying to sleep, because I want to.

It’s all I want right now

And all these thoughts

These worries

This pain

Can just stop

They need to go away

I push them aside

erase erase erase

I want them gone.

relax. Go to sleep. Don’t think about it.

I need to sleep.

Please sleep.

There’s too much to do tomorrow.

Too much.

Breathe

Shh

Sleep

Erase erase erase

My mind is as empty as I can get it

It’s a dark endless room

A spacious void

It’s all gone

But

There is something left

My surprise in finding it there is enough to hold my breath

But at the same time

I’m not surprised at all

It’s him

Under the one beam of light

The last thing in here besides me

Everywhere I try to look

There he is

One hand in his pocket

Eyes downcast

Covered by hair

Not looking at me

But his smile tells me that he knows I’m there

Please

Please go away

I don’t want you

I don’t need you

I need to sleep

he doesn’t acknowledge me

doesn’t move

doesn’t say a word

just stands

and I can’t push him out

I can’t even touch him

No matter what I do

He’s still there

But why

Then

Erase erase erase

And I am swallowed

By some unbeckoned void

And I sleep

 

GREETING EARTHLINGS

So I suppose I should update you guys a little (whoever you guys are, I don't think there are really any of you).

In regards to the last post. It is what it is. Leave it be.

Other than that, I've been really busy. Having a part-time job and being a full time student doesn't leave a lot of room for writing, but I do think when I can. And by think I mean clarify things more. Lately I've been all over The Devil Has Blue Eyes since I put together an amazing playlist, which I really should post.... anyways. It has also made me think of Sight. That said there will be changes, but they will be AWESOME.

So just so you know, I'm not being completely neglective. Hopefully, I'll have more time soon!

Stop and Smell the Roses...Oh Wait...Are Those Bees in My Nose?

I'm just going to warn you now of a lack of class that's about to take place. If this could possible offend you, I suggest you don't read. If you find this amusing, we must fist bump immediately. 

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Can we take a minute and talk about kindness? 

I would just...really like that. 

Oh, and in that kindness there must reside a maturity, which you clearly seem to lack. 

You, in all your shallow and judgmental glory, are not kind. Are not a friend. 

Friends, don't use each other. Friends, don't make each other uncomfortable for some strange sense of pride or vengeance.

So while you go and stuff yourself full of charitable bullshit, I hope you realize the loneliness you'll one day face. 

You will push them all away. They will know what it was like being in your seething shadow. And though I would love to do everything in my power to prevent this, it seems to be on a way street to that dump. And I will be there to take them out again. You'll be left with your cruelty and no one to subject to it but yourself.

How's that for food for thought?

Talk About Bittersweet

I've accepted that I'm not a bird person and I don't want to be sad, but I can't help it. Even if it's better. Even if things probably would have just gotten worse... because there was love, saying good bye hurts.

My room is empty again.

I gotten my first bird to keep me company because I was lonely. Because the person that was supposed to be my best friend had left a gaping hole and I needed something to fill it. I feel like that void is going to come back, but I have a suspicion that it's not a real fear because I have a new best friend now and other best friends that I'm actually investing in. And they love me. And take care of me.

I also really think that this is a big step to get my life where I want it to be.

This was a responsibility that I needed to let go of, because I was neglecting a responsibility to myself due to it. I have to get to the point where I have the means to take care of others. That's just not right now.

Look What the Clouds Dragged In

I'm doing better. :) I think that's evident with the few posts that have been made, but we're not dwelling on that. 

there was no thief relient k mp3 | lyrics

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"There Was No Thief"

For a time I thought there was a thief among us
I thought I'd track him down but prior to my pursuit
The smoke had cleared and to my disbelief
There was no thief cause it was me
That lost you

I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back (Oh oh oh oh)
And I understand why you wouldn't want to (Oh oh oh oh)
I guess it's up to me to find a way to get to you

And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me

And I can't see you
Getting used to
Living in the midst of your perfection
And I'm so lost
How can you trust
Somewhere the sun is always shining?

Oh
Oh

And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me

I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back 

If you're considering me the speaker. You are mistaken. 

Strangely, this song is not making me hopeful. It's giving me something to understand whether it's accurate or not. It's a point of view that I can grasp and learn to let go of. It's easier than considering malice. 

I don't believe it was malice.

So it comforts me and that's the only explanation I have. 

I've come to accept the reality of it all. It's still a little painful, but it's not taking over my life or my thoughts. I'm moving on and I hope that soon it'll be to an even greater degree.

Poison

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Here you go! :D

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Whir-whir.

It took me a minute as I slowly came into conscious to realize what I was hearing was the heater. My eyes opened hesitantly, the black around them fading gradually like a camera lens. I shifted my legs against my comforter, wanting instantly to go back asleep but too awake now to—I flung my blanket off and sat up then immediately fell onto the pillow again. My head was throbbing, no, pulsating. I almost cried out as the dizziness settled, but once it did I noticed the weight of my own body, the ache, along with the complete disgust in the idea of food. I grabbed one of the extra pillows and put it over my eyes. I felt like I'd had about ten too many beers which followed an induced stumble into the street that ended with me plastered to the front of a semi going eighty.

I was pretty sure I hadn't been drinking last night. I had gone for a drive and was kidnapped by Thom, but he was—not dead. I'd seen the photos. The cops wanted to know if I'd intentionally convinced him to kill himself. I hadn't, but I might as well have. Yet, I'd seen him last night.

How did that make sense?

I recalled his eyes: dark, red, and animalistic; his tendency to move while I blinked, and then his teeth. A chill trickled from my spine to each of my limbs and my hand darted to my neck. My fingers burned from my skin and I pulled away. A steady pain radiated from the spot on my throat where I'd been bitten by the other one.

The other what? What were they?

I was fighting my logic as hard as I could, but the harder my neck throbbed, the louder the word seemed in my head.

Vampires.

Blood ghouls. Night stalkers. Blood suckers.

I resisted the urge to touch my wound again. Had that—man drank my blood? Had he tried to kill me?

Then why was I in my bed?

The pain increased to such a degree that I hissed so I wouldn't groan. I couldn't ignore it anymore. I rolled out of bed, clumsily, shakily and stumbled my way to the bathroom, it wasn't far at all—less than ten steps from my bed, but I kept needing to stop and grab whatever was nearby to keep from collapsing. I knocked things over on my desk and nearly slid to the floor trying to grab the wall before I got a good grasp on the doorway of the bathroom. When I fumbled for the light I instantly regretted it. The light, normally dim in my memory, was so bright, my eyes were watering before I could turn it off again. I buried my face into the towel hanging under the light switch trying to calm my breathing and dry my face.

After a moment, I slowly pulled the towel away, letting my eyes adjust before I tried to look around. A little light drifted into the bathroom from the draped window, reflecting off of the wall and to the mirror then back again. It was enough for me to take in my reflection.

I definitely looked hung over. The bags under my eyes made their dark irises look even smaller than normal, my skin pasty, my body hunched over. My neck was the worse. There was no wound, not a trace, no small red dots to show any kind of puncture marks, but my veins were raised, completely inflamed covering most of my neck. I tugged at my shirt to see how far it spread. The ruby threads had begun a steady crawl over my collar bone, a few touching the top of my breast, like tracks small creatures leave behind in the mud. They were heading straight for my heart.

I crashed out of the bathroom as best as I could and began stumbling down the hall.

"Mom!" I called, slipping on the stairs from the socks still on my feet.

I saw her head rise from its tilt over a book as she sat on the couch.

"Oh, you're up." She closed her book with a careful surety.

I grasped the rail at the bottom of the steps to hold me up. "Mom." I breathed again.

She was getting up slowly from the couch, not really looking at me, but looking stern.

"The police brought you home last night, passed out." I knew that voice. It was her "what would the neighbors think" voice.

"I know Mom, I—"

"Do you think that's appropriate?" Her eyebrows raised and so did her voice a few octaves, then she looked at me. "Hmm?" Her glare was enough to make me want to scream, she was looking right at me. Could she not see my neck?

I squeezed my mouth shut. There was no way she was going to lecture me for something completely bogus while I was dying.

She locked gazes with me, but neither of us budged, that's the pesky thing about genes.

"Fine." She exasperated quietly. "We will talk when you're not hung over. I'll get you something to eat."

"Mom, wait –"she ignored me and continued her trek to the kitchen. Clearly, she wasn't going to listen to me. Fine, I'd drive myself to the hospital.

I was glad to find my purse and keys right where they were supposed to be along with my moccasins, but my car wasn't. It wasn't in the garage and when I hobbled outside I didn't find it in the driveway or on the street either.

"Kae?"

I turned to see my neighbor, James standing in his own driveway. We'd gone to high school together and we were never really friends, but we were friendly. He'd always been especially kind to me.

"James. I need your help." I began to make my way toward him when I stumbled on the lawn. When I thought my hands would hit the grass, I stopped falling.

"Whoa." James said softly, holding me up carefully. "You okay?"

"No." I strained, then clenched my teeth, suddenly hit with a wave of pain in my head, light hurt again. I felt myself lowered to the grass and didn't care to object. Hopefully, he was smart enough to call 9-1-1. I didn't really know.

"Stay right here." He murmured hurriedly.

I crushed my palms against my eyes and groaned and stayed where I was. I thought the pain would lessen if I just sat here, but it steadily increased. "James?" I moaned too soft for myself to hear, it was hardly a whimper.

I heard the crunch of shoes on grass as James said, "Smell this."

I inhaled, strangely obedient.

Garlic?

My stomach instantly clenched and I gasped, flying forward onto my knees. I felt James shielding me, one of his hands wrapping around my hair, the other on the small of my back. My ears started ringing and then I began to vomit.

I don't know how long I knelt there chucking everything I had and even what I didn't, but I could have sworn I heard James as he rubbed my back say, "There you go. Let all of that venom out."

I'd finally started to stop, trying to catch my breath against James legs when I heard the sirens. I glimpsed my mother standing with her arms crossed in the driveway before an ambulance and then a cop car came to a calm stop in front of us. 

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Thom

 <---Previous Love Me Dead Post

Here's something to satisfy you. :)

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I thought she would cry for me.

I mean, I'd hoped she would, just a little.

The table was cool. At least Thom knew it was supposed to be; he was able to recall the feeling like ice against his human skin. Now it felt no different from his cheek. The metallic scent pervaded his nose like someone had sprayed too much perfume, but it had a touch of purity to it, like water. He raised his head from the steel slab and quickly observed the dim, small room. It looked much like an interview room: a single overhead light, a table in the center, two chairs; one on either side. Thom occupied one; the other was intended for whoever was going to interrogate him. Not that Thom had ever been arrested for any reason before, but he'd watched crime shows from time to time.

There was a movement and Thom's eyes locked onto the one way glass in front of him. He could tell how thick it was, at least a foot in depth, which probably made it indestructible considering the shallow gashes here and there all over its surface. Something had tried to do it serious damage, and failed.

Whoever was on the other side of the glass walked to the door next to it, turning the knob.

"Where's Kaelyn?" Thom hissed just as the door opened a crack.

The man said nothing; he was scrawny, but not weak. Thom could see that much with a quick scan up his length, but his eyes held a knowledge, a wisdom. Thom couldn't begin to fathom its origin.

The man gripped the second chair leaning forward slightly.

"Calm down. I know that at your new age your moods are eccentric and intense, but you can control them."

He kept his gaze locked with Thom until Thom realized that his hands were digging into the table, his fingertips stinging. He released it clumsily, brushing his hands on his pants. His fingertips were singed, there must have been silver under the surface.

"We'll work on that." The man mumbled as he slowly sat in the chair.

Every movement he'd done up to this point hadn't seemed abnormal to Thom, but this seemed strangely slow.

A Styrofoam cup appeared in front of Thom, he missed how it got there, but it smelled warm familiar, almost like—but it wasn't. "What is that?" Thom sneered.

"A heated blood synthetic." The man answered. "We often refer to it as hot Kool-Aid. Little joke." The man didn't laugh, didn't even smile. Thom didn't flinch.

It didn't smell necessarily appealing, but not bad either. Thom didn't want it, but he picked up the cup and took a sip. Like he thought, he could drink more. It tasted like it wanted to be blood, but definitely wasn't like artificial sugar tried so hard to taste sweet. He knew he needed it, but only gave into that need so he didn't kill anyone later—in the name of food anyway.

"My name is Derek, Thomas." The man, now Derek said, but didn't offer his hand. Smart man. "Kaelyn is fine and you'll see that for yourself soon enough. I'll bet by that time you won't want to though."

Thom downed the rest of the drink and then slammed the cup on the table sending a definite thump through the room, crushing the cup into a small circle of what now looked like paper.

Derek's eyes moved to the cup, then to Thom's face. "You have a lot of fear and a lot of rage, but there's also a determination." His hand moved forward and he grasped the remains of the cup between his index and middle finger then dropped it nonchalantly into the nearby trashcan. "We're going to harness that determination. We're going to get you in control of your body, of your nature, of your desires and anything else that stops you from living like you want to."

(Thom knew he wasn't just offering him a free platter, there had to be something he wanted.)

Derek leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper, "I know this isn't an existence you chose. I can't rid you of it, unless death is what you want, but I can help you take advantage of it and possibly get revenge if you desire, as long as you help us."

Ah the catch. "And how would I do that?"

A smile appeared on Derek's face. "Oh, I think you'll like this part."