2-18-11My life is like 'A Doll's House,' she thought. She liked to pretend she could keep her life and her relationship together, but she couldn't. On the inside, she was a mess. To the world, it was all about being fake; she was bubbly, she was warm and welcoming, she was happy; there's no way she'd ever let anyone else see different.
Her and her husband threw a party the other night. They all dressed up in order to feel richer than they were. She served foods that would have been on the menu of a five star restaurant. She had spent the day before picking out the perfect dress. It was a lilac hue and clung to her body in all of the right places, accentuating the curves of her body. She knew the wives would be jealous and the husbands would look her way whenever she passed by. Her hair fell in gentle curls barely sweeping her collar bone. Her kitchen and living room were painted in magnificent, soft colors and filled with all of the right accessories to make a house feel like a home. H
2-16-11She opened up her laptop and typed in the password to her computer: DA2015gs. Her background instantly popped up; it was a picture of her old house in Callicoon, New York. It was spring time, her favorite time of year, and her mother's flowers had just begun to bloom. There were daffodils and tulips budding around the greenery peeping out from the dirt. The trees in the front yard were showing signs of life after a particularly hard winter. She wanted to go back to those days. She'd be able to escape the bills currently overflowing her mailbox she stopped looking for actual mail a long time ago she'd escape her boring job as an accountant at Eisner & Co., she'd end up escaping every aspect of her life.
Grace Smith glanced around the corner of her cubicle, the less harsh option to solitary confinement, in order to observe the whereabouts of her supervisor. In doing so, she noticed about a quarter of the employees on her floor were doing something similar. Almost like a gam
2-11-11Hand on the door, the cold, metallic handle, he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs and slowly, letting them empty once more before turning the knob.
This is it, he thought as he placed a foot into the room before him. This is the fist step to the rest of my life. I've gone this far, there's no point in turning back now.
And there, spread out before him like a lost and lonely man's arms, were one-hundred and fifty young adults. Some were anticipating his arrival; these people were anxious to see the man who would help guide them through so much. Others, however, could have cared less. They were there because they had to be.
The man of the hour took careful steps across the room, as if he was avoiding some hidden danger lost amongst the desks and chairs lined neatly in rows. He shuffled through his papers, searching for words to say, even though he knew the subject by heart. Looking out into the faces of his students, he greeted them with a surprisingly confident tone:
2-4-11Wings spread out to reach the sun,
slender stem to guide the seed,
a place to grant it every need,
but look around; there is no one.
Look around; there is no one.
Sustained yourself, you're on your way,
to life's whims, you obey,
and yet it seems to come undone.
Sustained yourself, you're on your way,
you take a leap, a leap of faith,
as your form of life takes shape,
the world around, no longer gray.
The world around, no longer gray,
the troubles start to disappear,
and clouds above you start to clear;
it is a brand new day.
Oh by the wayI use your shampoo when you make me mad. I guess it doesn't accomplish anything, but the more I use, the less of that stupid girl scent you have. Your little theory about attracting girls that way is stupid too. Has it ever worked for you?
Your idea of a girlfriend is stealing those of your friend. How does that feel? Is it truly satisfying? It seems to be the only way you can get anything, because you sure as hell can't get anything on your own.
You are so fake! You smile just long enough until your prey is within your grasp and then you squeeze down on them like they're nothing. They are nothing more than your little puppets you hope will get you by. You push out every last breath until they no longer have the willpower to go against you. Most of them are stupid to fall for it too, but not me. I won't be doing anything for you again.
1-28-11Anger consume my being.
Hot like oil sizzling in a pan
cooking bacon to burnt bits, it's
lipid edges curl up in defense.
Full like a reservoir about to break,
releasing it's destruction on a land
awaiting in ignorance.
Sudden like a wild cat taking down
her prey, draining the life
of another in her clutches.
1-14-11Little brother of mine,
you will remember
for we in our youth
did these things.
Yes many and beautiful things,
blades of grass,
rays of light.
On a winter's dayDreadful, she said,
crocodile tears fell down her face.
Awful, she said,
as she hid her smirk behind her tone.
Tragic, she said,
but murder's what she wrote.
The blood still stains her hands.
Two worlds fuse into one in a
blink of an eye.
Thrown into the cold.
Icy hot complexion.
Snow collects in piles as a secret is hidden.
A passionate crime sizzling with hate;
the flakes whisper softly among themselves,
a convinced jury of her guilt.
1-21-11As I peer through curled branches,
through remnants of a past life,
the buildings they frame
are formed brick-by-brick.
Rusty red hues capture the light
as shadows are cast upon rough surfaces,
gleaming metal, the sun shines
all over campus and it's people.
Flustered students hurry to classes,
catching themselves on a snow-covered ground,
while instructors roll their eyes
in impatient annoyance.
A new year has begun.