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Friday, 18 December 2009

  • SH #28 - Cursed

    28.   Monsters from your closet : Something featuring the creatures that kept you up at night as a kid. Mode of creation open- ( 4 pts)

    Cursed

    you cursed me
    to be of your descent


    black hair and olive skin
    burnt eyes
    from hatred deep within

    i know this and your name
    but not another
    recollection
    besides the pain
    some personality quirks
    and too many  lies


    i hate to hate you
    never could love you
    there’s nowhere in between


    i know. i know.
    “good intentions.  no harm meant.”


     the smell of
    beer and smoke

    makes me sick to think of you


    the                                                   bruises                                               fade                                            away
    into                                                                               my                                                                             soul
    staining                                               me                                                   with                                              you
    worst                                                                            of                                                                                 all
    over                                                                                                                                                               time
    i see your shadow in me


    “…worthless…bad daughter…not a waste of time…you don’t love me…i won’t give up on you…not even worth a dime…”


    your voice fades
    slurring in and out

    blurry through tears
    i never let fall
    as you force me to do things
    things i neverwant to do


    i picture your shadow
    in the dining room
    i hear the

    POP

    of a can
    but there’s no                                  fizz
    like from soda pop
    it’s more of a

    SHHHhhhh…

    silently i try to blend in
    with the couch
    as i paint my world
    with color
    through a coloring book
    and eight crayons
    i color the night
    into an end


    my Boo-Boo kitty
    spikes her fur and runs
    as he collapses in the chair
    almost on her


    his eyes begin to fall
    while he does not
    speak to me
    i watch quietly
    behind three year old eyes
    i would not dare
    to move a moment too soon


    right as the can
    slips loose
    i take it from his hand
    it takes two of my
    little hands to hold


    off to my room to change
    into light pink PJs
    i stop to grab my kitty
    squeeze her tight like a doll
    our faces both buried
    in black fur
    she knows
    i’m just as scared as her
    and Boo-Boo Kitty
    begins to purr


    it’s off to the bathroom
    where the ceiling bows
    like it’s attacking me
    from the leaky pipe above
    the black tip drops
    a steady drip
    into the waiting bucket
    i’m scared of it


    i want to cry out
    to daddy to save me
    but i know better
    daddy’s sleeping
    in the chair
    “Daddy!  Daddy!
    Bedtime!  I ready!”


    he does not move


    pull on his arm
    pull on his leg
    push him
    shake him
    hard as i can

    is he dead?
    i lay still upon his chest
    it gives a slight rise
    he must be alive
    “Daddy!  Daddy!
    Wake up!  Wake up!”
    tears grow in my eyes

    he won’t wake up again


    fear grips my tiny body so tight
    tears roll down my face


    i pull off each shoe
    laces first
    one… two…
    push them out of the way
    so he won’t trip and blame me
    i cover him
    with a blanket as best i can
    and leave the light on


    click on my unicorn light
    then crawl up on my water  bed
    the steady rocking
    puts my tired eyes to sleep


    just one dark
    lonely night
    of memories
    that haunts my sleep
    tonight

    seventeen years later
    bruises heal into scars
    shadows fade to stains


    how could you give me
    nothing else
    besides scars and stains
    and sleepless nights
    i don’t even
    have your name


    sirens scream into the night
    waking me with a fright
    "DADDY!  DADDY!"
    i cry
    i beat my tiny fists into his chest
    before i rest my head
    listening for a heartbeat
    or to feel a breath

    to this day
    sirens haunt my sleep
    ripping apart
    already broken dreams

    tonight

    twenty-two years later
    bruises heal into scars
    shadows fade to stains


    but still cursed
    being of your descent

    to love me in such
    a hateful way

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

  • S.H. #6 Our Fire

    {4.       A love poem incorporating the following words: spider, rake, snow, ashes, earring, apple, planet -(6pts) }

    The ashes drifted up into the air...

    You stopped working -
    set down the rake
    the moment I appeared.

    The second hand ticked away the night-
    although I swear the planet stopped
    when I looked into your eyes.

    Her apple earring lay on the table between us -
    ironically a constant reminder
    of the feelings we could not discuss.

    You brushed a spider from my hand -
    sending sparks into the night.
    It paused a moment on mine
    when I drifted into your eyes
    the fire ignited and we disappeared...

    they bended with the snow...
    -the ashes-
    ...when they fell back from the sky.


Monday, 14 December 2009

  • S.H. #7 True Wishes



    Their marriage was failing anyway.  Slowly fading into a hate fueled by a distance within the home.  It doesn't make it okay.  I shouldn't have walked with him that night.  I didn't know he'd be standing outside waiting.  I suppose I'm guilty of wishing he would be, though.  Problem is sometimes wishes come true.  Now, I'm sitting in the car, making it okay for him to sign away his marriage.  Where do we go from here?  Sometimes I think there will be nothing left when we don't have to hide.  What if the attraction is the adrenaline rush from a forbidden affair? 

    She spied on him, yelled at him.  She slapped him and threw things.  She banished him to the couch for weeks on end.  He refused to invite her places and stopped taking her on dates.  He sometimes drank too much.  He partied without her while they were at work.  All this was going on before he met me... when we started becoming attracted to each other... and while he made out with me in the garage.  I suppose it's not an excuse, but their marriage was failing anyway.

Sunday, 13 December 2009

  • Confessions (SH # 61)

    I kissed you with all the passion I could find
    When everyone left, I lagged behind
    I wished they would leave
    I wanted a moment alone with you
    I stood in your way
    I brushed your arm, foot, or even your hand
    I thrived off the adrenaline rush
    I kissed you
    I held your hand
    I told everyone nothing was going on
    I lied to myself - I don't want you -
    I made excuses to talk to you
    I asked questions I knew the answers to
    I sat as near to you as I could
    I played dice to get your attention
    I enjoyed your company
    I loved laughing at your stories
    I watched you play with your kids
    I worked on my car when you were home
    I accepted your invite to the fire
    I wanted you to notice me.
    I waved to be friendly
    I had never met you.
    I had never seen you.
    I wanted to fall in love.
    I moved away from failures
    I got a new job.
    You fit the profile of a perfect man.

    I suppose I always knew...
    I've been falling through fantasy
    since the day I met you

Wednesday, 09 December 2009

  • All I Want for Christmas (S.H. 5)

    Dear Santa~

    Unfortunately, I can't ask for material things this Christmas, but seeing that you are Santa, I know you can deliver.

    I'm asking for magic, miracles, and hope - not for me, but for those who seem to be running short.

    You see... this Christmas will be the first some of my students experience.  They will experience their first Christmas tree with presents under it.  They won't have a "real" family to open presents with on Christmas morning, but they will have a staff and 8 house mates.   

    Some of those teenagers don't necessarily want the material gifts...I mean, they want them.  They will smile, take them, and use them.  In reality, what they want more than anything is a family - some of them want their family back, some of them want foster parents who are willing to take them in and make them a part of the family.  Some of these boys lack hope - they don't believe it's possible.  How could they?  After years and years and years of abuse?  After years of failure and ending up in a specialized group home because they've "failed" everywhere else they've been?

    Some will pack their bags after unwrapping presents.  Why?  Because they've never seen a Christmas tree or unwrapped gifts.  Don't people only give things or pretend to care about you when you're leaving?

    So you see...
    I've come to value and treasure these boys.  I want nothing but the best for them.

    And Santa?

    If anyone can bring magic and hope to their lives, I know it's you.  I'm sure these teenage boys are typical teenagers; too full of pride to ask for help.  That's why I've written on their behalf.  So do you think it's possible?  Can you deliver some magic and hope to them this Christmas season?  Maybe pull of a few miracles and deliver families?

    Thank you for your consideration.

Dreams_of_a_Cowgirl

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    • Member Since: 3/1/2009

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  • Okay, I admit it... I'm a little crazy. But in my defense, who isn't?

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  • redshark1
    Thank you cowgirl for accepting me as a friend I live in England very windy today tring to rain 06.am wednesday I have been downstairs since 4am trying to get rid of irritating cough I am on 2nd lot of antibiotics hope you are keeping well take care