Words.

The words are vibrating
on my lips.
I'm breathing fast,
and speaking faster.
There's so much
I need to say.

Things that would
change
how flies land on fruit,
how mountains wear down,
how the stars shine
like the sparkle in your eyes.

But I'm breathing fast,
and speaking faster,
and I'm choking
on my own words,
as you tell me to
slow down.

- - -

I watched a movie today called 'To Save A Life'. It was actually about a high school boy who's childhood friend commits suicide, and it causes him to raise a lot of questions about himself and his life. I thought that the movie was really well done. It made me wonder about the communication between us as human beings.

Do we understand what people say they need? And not just through words, but body language and action too. Do we, ask a fast paced society have the capactity to slow down and really understand what is going on with the people closest to us?

This may make me think a lot harder about even the little day-day conversations I have with people.

Mosquito People.

The closest thing
to a perfect moment
was when we fled
from scathing looks
pointy mouths
and bug eyes.
We walked together
across old train tracks
as we swatted at mosquitoes
because all they ever want
is
to suck us dry.

Poe.

Edgar Allen Poe,
writes tales of woe,
where spooky things
end up in walls,
or under floors.

- - -

This was written a while ago (couple months), but I just found it, and thought it should be here.

100 Reasons to Like You.

1. Because you're proud of your 'gayness'
2. Because I think about you and I laugh.
3. Because you make me smile. Duh! :)
4. Because you appreciate a good dirty joke.
5. Because you poke fun at me.
6. Because you're so smart.
7. Because when I don't tell you, you don't push.
8. Because you always listen when I'm ranting.
9. Because my parents adore you.
10. Because my friends adore you.
11. Because I adore you.
12. Because you love watching movies.
14. Because you introduced me to metal.
15. Because my Ipod has eight extra gigs of music because of you.
16. Because of your blue eyes.
17. Because of your dark hair.
18. Because you can make fun of yourself.
19. Because you drive a truck! ;P
20. Because it's okay if I pay sometimes.
21. Because you never push me, but you're not afraid to tell me exactly what you think.
22. Because we could spend all day watching cartoons together.
23. Because you love music more than I do.
24. Because I love your family.
25. Because I can tell you absolutely anything.
26. Because you stay up all night.
27. Because you sometimes sleep all day.
28. Because you were in my art class, and it was so much fun!
29. Because you never complain about my dry hands.
30. Because you think you're the lucky one.
31. Because you watched Gunslinger Girl, even after I condemned it.
32. Because you inspired the best poem I've ever written.
33. Because meeting you was exactly what I needed, when I needed it.
34. Because you won't lie to my parents.
35. Because you showed me Fight Club.
36. Because you're so soft spoken.
37. Because you dressed up as Andy from the 40 Year Old Virgin.
38. Because you hate Nickleback, but I find them listenable.
39. Because I'll say something that doesn't make sense, and you won't hesitate to tease me.
40. Because I gave you a bloody nose and you laughed it off.
41. Because I got you into trouble, and you stuck around.
42. Because I know I'm sometimes trouble, and I think you do too.
43. Because I said Tony Roma's had the best onion cake, and you took me to Outback and proved me wrong.
44. Because we don't argue.
45. Because you're always so calm.
46. Because you have hilarious friends.
47. Because you work so hard with the band.
48. Because you're hardworking period.
49. Because I feel like I can trust you around other girls.
50. Because I'm halfway to 100!
51. Because I'm willing to be wholly and completely yours.
52. Because you gave me the book "How Babies Are Made."
53. Because you don't try to flatter me.
54. Because I love the way you kiss.
55. Because you creeped my facebook page, and I creep yours ALL THE TIME. :)
56. Because you found my blog before I even told you I had a blog.
57. Because you think my stepdad is a nice guy.
58. Because I still have time for me.
59. Because you want to have classes with me.
60. Because you brought my friends and I maple syrup.
61. Because you love a good breakfast.
62. Because every samurai must sometimes bloody his sword!
63. Because you play the bass. Cough.
64. Because you're not afraid to tease my friends.
65. Because you can take it and you can dish it!
66. Because you always say goodnight.
67. Because you showed me how awesome local music is.
68. Because you were there for my first head banging.
69. Because BATTLESHIP is awesome, and you know it! ;P
70. Because you showed me Gojira.
71. Because I'm a calmer person now.
72. Because your family loves Country music, but you don't.
73. Because you like to reference movies.
74. Because you love inside jokes.
75. Because I know you don't really like Boxer Shorts, but you deal with him because you know I love my ferret so very much. :)
76. Because we want to go on a road trip together.
77. Because I see no end to this in sight.
78. Because you put up with my crazy, dysfunctional family.
79. Because you think I should grow out my hair, but I like it short!
80. Because you wear band T-shirts everyday.
81. Because your pants actually fit.
82. Because you worry about the wellfare of other people.
83. Because we love to make fun of Evan/Victoria together.
84. Because I like your mom.
85. Because you have so many stories to tell.
86. Because you have friends that are lifelong.
87. Because you're so mature.
88. Because I know you'd never abuse your ability to drink legally.
89. Because you're not much of a partier.
90. Because you share my hatred of acne.
91. Because you'd do Will smith. I'd do him too! :)
92. Because I burrowed your CDs for like three months, and you didn't nag.
93. Because you have a favorite book series.
94. Because you, Adam, and Scott apparently like whale sperm. :/
95. Because you and my brother are pals.
96. Because you play video games.
97. Because we invented the code word "pizza." ;D
98. Because you actually tookthe time to listen to my favorite band.
99. Because you're so patient.
100. Because you're still reading this.

Stolen Smiles.

I like to find
stolen smiles
and hang them
on my wall.
I find them
on porches
glazed with sun,
and between fingers
twined together,
and shoulders grazed
whilst passing by.

You find them too,
in a subtle glance,
a split-second spark
in the middle
of eyes.

- - -

I've been toying with the idea of a stolen smile for a little while now. I try to think to myself: "What could the phrase mean, where would you find one, how would you steal it?"

Anyways, I'm feeling particularily lackadaisical and not very sesquipedalian today, so I'm going for a nap. ;D

Summer Ending.

I watched the leaves today,
their edges faded
from green to yellow
as Autumn comes
and steals
Summer‘s breath.
Blooming life
is shot down
by bitter frost.
An arrow
in my back.

- - -

Inspired by the yellow leaves of a tomatoe plant that really isn't getting enough sun. Darned weather.

Swing at the Park.

Gritty chain
beneath my hands,
and muted gravel
under my feet.
I take off, and
the wind tangles my hair.
I go up,
and back,
and up again,
on a swing to nowhere.
I close my eyes
and jump.

- - -

I've been feeling pretty uninspired lately (mostly because I haven't been doing as much reading as of late), but today my two younger brothers and I went to the park. I love swings. They're a cherished pastime of my childhood, a snatch at the sky, so much fun! :)

Strangers Kissing.

I watched two strangers
stand in drenching rain,
but they looked so warm
as their lips fuzed
and their hands
twined together.

I miss the feeling.
But more I wish,
as rain spatters me
with lip marks,
that you would
kiss me
in the rain.

The two strangers
boarded the bus,
and I never saw them
again.

- - -

I really did see this happening today. It felt almost an intrusion to watch them, but they were way at the corner waiting for a bus and I just happened to be sitting on the couch looking out the window. Completely not my fault they had no sense of privacy! Anyways, my dad will probably shake his head when he reads this. :)

Other notes, I realize this is my second poem in about a week about some type of stranger. I like the anonymity of the idea. It took me FOREVER to figure out how to pronounce that word! Don't mock. :)

Erosion.

Far away the mountains
are glazed in blue.
I wish
I could climb up them
and stand,
my fingers skimming
cloud.
I would watch
streams run down your face
and wind
fling back your rocky hair.
And I will watch you,
mountain,
erode.

Boxed.

I feel boxed in. Angsty, anxious, annoyed, beaten down, hopeless, upset.

I'm already tired of my summer vacation. I want to go back to my routine, I want to stop dealing with extended family. I want to punch the keys on a piano, and pluck the strings on my guitar. Amazing, but true.

I miss home.

Earlier today, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I had to stop and look closer. I didn't really feel like myself today. I haven't been the zany, outgoing, slightly obnoxious teen that I usually am.

But who knows, maybe a goodnight's sleep will make me feel better.

Smoking Stars.

The smoke
melded with the sky
all speckled with stars.
I was peering through,
squinting my eyes
until I realized
I could no longer
see stars.

- - -

Inspired by the great outdoors and a campfire.

Stranger at Night.

The dark night
is washed
in yellow limelight.
I see a flickering shadow
lurking in the alleyway
as I stand on my porch
and watch it
watch me.

I pull
the sliding glass door,
marred with fingerprints,
shut.
And suddenly,
I'm afraid.

- - -

Poor Dexter. My dad's sixteen year old dog has been having a bit of trouble as of late controlling his...er..bowel movements. I noticed he was shuffling around anxiously, so I let him out. I stood on the porch in the darkness, and was suddenly stricken with the beauty of night in the city. I love the color of streetlight.

That's what inspired this piece. I didn't actually see anyone wandering the allies, but I liked the concept.

Prologue: The Taste of Blood.

He screeched in pain, a sound that echoed through the dank halls and empty rooms of Shiro’s neglected palace. It vibrated through old cobwebs draped across everything: They sheeted the gray stone of walls, hung from unused chandeliers, coated lavish chairs and wasted furniture. In some of the older rooms, ripples appeared in pools of once stagnant water. Drops of liquid hammered stone and molding carpet.

Shiro’s lips curled into a dark smile, his eyes gleaming as he forced the knife deeper into the man’s side. The archivist cried out again, his voice weak. He jerked his entire body violently, attempting to wriggle his arms free. It was useless; the bonds that held him to the gore ridden chair stayed tightly clasped around his body. It terrified him, to know he was sitting in more than just his own blood. He felt like this torture had gone on for days, months maybe, though in reality it was a few tremendous hours. Fatigue had set in. He felt crushed, like a mouse caught in a steel trap.

His tormentor’s face was still crumpled into a wicked smile. The man’s eyes bulged from his head, and his lips quivered. He gulped down a hard stone in his throat. “S-stop this,” His breathing felt labored, his chest constricted under tight coils of chain. “Please…”

Eyes of the palest green, cool and full of void, looked down. They bore into the man’s very soul, but showed no sign of sympathy. The surreal smile that had peeled back his lips faltered for a moment, transforming his expression into an ugly grimace. He wrenched the blade out, careful to drag the serrated edge, making the wound larger. Shiro held it close to his pallid face. The contrast of his skin to the blood was vivid, like black and white.

“Beautiful.” His voice was silky, but dangerously sharp. A pink tongue emerged from his mouth, pressed up against the flat of the knife. “Mmmm..”

The man was sobbing now, his entire body shaking with fear and adrenaline. “I h-ha-haven’t done anything!” He wailed. “Why are you doing this?” He twisted his fat wrists again. The attempt was fruitless.

The knife slipped from Shiro’s hand, clattering to the floor. The definite lines of his body blurred as he moved too quickly for the human eye to follow. He brought his face within inches of his victim’s, his half-mast eyes widening intensely. His alabaster fingers clamped down on the man’s pudgy arms.


The tormentor inhaled. He breathed in the stench that lingered over the chair-—it hung in even the dankest corners of his palace-—it seeped from the pores of the pathetic man before him. The scent of Death was like rotten rose petals: sickeningly sweet.

Even when it was fresh, when he’s begun all this, he’d loved the smell. Shiro blinked as he was abruptly caught in a moment of nostalgia. He remembered plowing through damp, worm ridden dirt. He remembered dragging up coffins with the assistance of his uncle, remembered stealing bodies. He remembered his first feeble attempts at the Black Arts. The memory made his lips twitch.

“Tell me what I need to know.” He said softly, dragging his long fingers down the side of the man’s face. The man jerked back at his touch. Shiro sighed contently. Death was so intimate, so romantic. It was all too lovely for him.

The archivist hesitated. His eyes darted from place to place. His lips parted, as if to say something, but closed again. His cheeks were tearstained; blood congregated at each of the corners of his mouth. He coughed suddenly, spewing bits of blood into Shiro’s face. Shiro’s eyelids fluttered, but he did not flinch.

The man was dying.

“Okay, oka—okay.” He sobbed. “There are tw—two.”

“Where, my love?” The tormenter asked, allowing his face to become soft, like that of a love stricken girl. The man shut his mouth again, whimpering.

“WHERE?!?!” Shiro screeched, his expression contorting into a feral snarl.

“In my country. I-in Arael.” He gurgled. “Hitalgiss.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes as he turned away. He felt the man wasn’t lying; no one would want to bring Death into their own country. But both children, in the same place? It was too convenient.

“Please, the-they’re still just children!” The archivist pleaded. “why risk the—“ He hacked up more blood in a fit of coughing. “Why risk them, the fate of out world, to open it?”

Shiro turned away, ignoring the sobbing and beseeching of the grimy man. He wrinkled his nose as he moved to a table pushed up against stone wall. He hated the sound of pleading. It reminded him of greedy children, screaming and grabbing with pudgy little hands.

The table was lined with an array of metallic instruments. He ran his hand along sleek edges and sharp points, before settling on a new blade. It was like a razor, smooth, and with a deadly looking hook at the end. He took in a long breath.

“Sometimes my love, we have to sacrifice the lives of many to achieve perfect utopia.”

He twisted, lashed out.

There was red.

Shiro raised a hand to wipe the gore from his face, though the attempt was useless. He could almost smell the fat in the man’s blood. He threw the knife aside, and listened as it clanged against stone. The sound felt muted to him, distant. He was lost in the dead man’s face.

His eyes and mouth were wide, frozen in a look of terror. The wound at his neck was unruly; the hook had performed like a talented bard lamenting stories of old. Blood gurgled from the slash and soaked what was left of the man’s clothing. It spattered on the floor. Shiro stared a moment longer, thinking the image would make a lovely painting.

“Aqeale,” He called. “Bring me my pipe.”

A shadow flickered in the deepest corner of the chamber. A robed figure emerged and glided forwards, making not the slightest of sounds. Its head dipped down as he approached Shiro.

“My lord.” Aqeale whispered as he handed Shiro a long wooden contraption with a curved end, his head still bowed in respect.

“Rise, my friend.” Shiro said as he took the pipe. He stuck an end in his mouth and chewed on it, thoughts and ideas and plans churning and melding together in his head. “I have a most important errand for you.” Snapping his fingers, he created a small flame on the tip of his index. He lit the pipe and sucked in, savoring the sweet taste of tobacco.

Aqeale straightened, though his features remained masked in shade. Shiro preferred him this way; it made it easier to not become attached to his most trusted weapon.

“What does my lord wish of me?” His servant asked. His voice sounded hollow, like an echo lost in a canyon.

Shiro puffed out wide smoke rings and watched them dance through the moist air. He felt distracted by the success of his interrogation; he was so close, so close to reaching the Divine.

“The children have been under our nose this entire time. Or, should I say, above our heads?” Shiro mused, smiling at his cleverness. “Go to Hitalgiss, find the two, and bring them to me.”

“Alive, my lord?”

“Alive and hearty. They are vital to my plans.” Shiro said. He gave Aqeale a stern look. “I know you will not fail me in this; Do not make me send her.”

Aqeale bristled at the threat; a hint of annoyance touched his voice as he turned to leave.

“I will not fail you, brother.”

- - -

Finally, I know. I think i promised this, what, like a month ago? Alas, here it is! I'm very proud of it, but I know there's still work to be done, parts that need rewriting.

Leave a comment if you find something I should touch up on!

I'm Choking On My Tongue.

I am so blown away right now, I don't even have words to decribe it. I just stumbled across this blog called 'She Would Have Liked Wings', the author is fifteen. Fifteen! Two flipping years younger than me.

Her grasp of language is just phenominal. It's intricate, delicate writing.

At first I felt sharp pangs of jealousy: why can't I write like that? But I kept on reading, and it was all a sense of awe.

Anyways, have a look for yourself: http://writingsfromwonderland.blogspot.com/

Singing With You.

My heart,
lodged in my chest,
is zipping around
like a hummingbird
on steroids.
So in sync,
with the way everything was,
like a rapper
spitting up words
to his own beat.
Am I singing
out of key?

- - -

I have all of these fragmented ideas just crashing around in my head. I can't keep anything straight right now. It took a lot of effort to forge this little piece, because tangible, relatable ideas are not coming together for me. Like, a hummingbird and a RAPPER? Those two objects are so obviously related! *sarcasm*

Door To The Timeless Nether - Exerpt

It was just white. Endless white in all directions. No shadows, no objects, nothing for the eyes to focus on. It was just white.

“Holy hell.” He whispered, his mouth hanging open. He turned three hundred and sixty degrees and saw nothing.

Three doors suddenly appeared before him.

One was saccharine blue.

One was a deep shade of mottled green.

One was vivid red.

He looked at them with wide eyes, his heart pounding in his throat, his brain screeching at him to run. But run to where? There was nothing here but three doors, and never ending white. Rowan knew, somehow he knew, that he could only go forward.

- - -

So, in two months National Novel Writing Month will be up and buzzing in my face again. I realize last year, I didn't even make to the ten thousand word mark, thanks to my ever demanding social life. Not much of an excuse, I know.

Anyways, this is just a short exerpt from my attempt at it. I really fell in love with my characters and the very real potential the plot itself had. But alas:

"When Breanna and Rowan are shot from reality into a world where time, the laws of physics, and equality mean nothing, everything they have ever known is thrown into question. With only the theories and delusions of a mad scholar to guide them, and the help of a tiny and elegantly useless dragon named Macaroni, they must traverse the Nether and find the gateway back to their own plane of existance. The only problem is, time is never on anyones side, even in the Timeless Nether."

That was my synopsis. Not the greatest summary ever written for a story, but my first go at it.

I do intend to try NaNoWriMo again this year, and I've got a few ideas swimming around in my head for the whole thing. I encourage all writers/novelist wannabes to have a shot at it(or maybe you just like the idea of torturing yourself for no reason). 50,000 words in thirty days! Can you do it?

Link to the website: http://www.nanowrimo.org/

BATTLESHIP!

I was just looking back and saw that in a previous post, I said I'd find a link for a fricking amazing local band called Battleship. And well ah! Here it is:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/BATTLESHIP/397910326631?ref=ts

Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/battleshipband

Listening to them on myspace is really not the same as seeing them live, but as I've said before, I've completely fallen in love with them.

Drinking Water.

Currently, I've taken to drinking FAR too much water. I'm wondering: Can you be addicted??

Interesting Website Is Interesting.

http://threeframes.net/

This site just blew me away. All the images only have three frames to the animation, so the motions are very repetitive, but it gives the images such a new dynamic. I spent about a half an hour looking through the site, and I have to say, some of the images really feel like they've a strong message behind them.

Take a look and decide for yourself!

Sad Eyes.

I woke up from my daily dream
and saw you
staring out across
stirring ocean waters
and your eyes were sadder
than tumult stormclouds above.

I spread my toes
across cold wet sand
as you looked on,
but never looked at me.
I reached out,
touched a finger
to your shoulder.
But still
I would not see
your eyes.

The rain was coming,
slamming down on my face.
I shivered
and you took off your jacket
and walked me home.

But still I wonder
what I saw that day
in your
sad eyes.