Collection 1

Sail Boat 2
I sit in a shattered and
broken boat I built with
my two stubs for hands.
I built it blind in the desert.
The ground cracked and scared
from the fierce fire which once burned there…

The boat, I built so dumbly. The boat I built
was full of mistakes and errors.
I slip hammering in a nail and slice flesh…
I watched you walk across the barren waste.
I filled the valley. I toppled the mountains.
I simmered the last flickering flames from the famous fire
hidden under some rock I too stupidly glanced over.
I created a pathetic salty ocean out of my pale blind eyes.
They turned into faucets of pitiful, worthless rage.

I stayed in my boat, waiting for you to return.
As you said you would.
As I knew you wouldn’t. I still waited.
I watched the water rise.
and rise.
and rise.
I sit at the bottom of an ocean now.
An ocean red as blood…
How far was I below all else.
It all looked so high up
so far up above the ocean floor.
My chest was heavy, I struggled to breath
It hard breathing under an ocean of liquid.
Where I sit in an old Sail Boat.

Fury
In the furious trial of error and error
(Not the aforementioned  trial and error, that would
of course, result in a success at some odd point or another)

My mistakes and bouts of internal rage
stack up in droves near my trash can,
as I still find ways to fail at every task, this being
a failure to throw a sheet of white fire with blobs
of shitty black ink scribbled on them, into a trash bin.

After looking at the petty excuse I conjured up
to be my masterpiece of writing,
I melted down to this…

To shouting and screaming into the hazy computer screen
my disgust in my words,
the disgust in my lack of voice and effort.

I grumble around the house steaming mad
my ‘lid’ near blowing point.

How do I quit the torrid stream of
mopey dopey crap that has been oozing
from the printer all these years?

I must settle with this.
I grow weary.
How draining my anger makes me,
my anger with words, being unable
to fully express my emotions.
Words!
Why can you not do your job!?!
(I am at that state of depression. Throwing my own
problems from myself and blaming others,
in this instance, the english vocabulary,
or rather, my lack of one.)

Words are meant to express how one feels,
the words simply explain the feelings to others
yet no mixture of these ‘words’ does the trick.
to hell with the words. Action can be my next trick.

But the moment I type that do I soon realize
I can not do such a thing.
Abandon words like that, to leave words
out in the cold and dark all alone. No one uses them anymore anyways
correctly at least,
No.
I must return, I must go back to them.
I quietly enter back into the filthy room
the computer glaring at me, still hurt I left her side,
but I sit back down again, for the billionth time,
I return after a short bout and stumble through the halls
As I fume my rage one way or another.

I return back to my somber waltz with words across the lines,
as we quietly search the music hall for the true answer to
defeating my ails, or at least for the time being,
a pretty girl or better yet, a warm drink to help forget,
even for just a little while.

 

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The Heart

I sat at the kitchen table holding the pieces of our once beautiful life, now broken into millions of jagged shards of glass. I took a piece and pressed it tight against my chest. I took a deep breath and drove the shard of glass deep into me. I cut my now cold, frozen heap of a heart out and placed it on the table. My heart sat on the table frostbitten and bruised from the choices I made. On it I saw scars from old loves, some just faint enough I could barely see, some were deep, so deep, if I stared at it long enough I would of found myself getting lost in their own past. Some of the cuts were new and still fresh, I looked at the blackened mess of a heart it was and saw the cold cold ice consume the scars and wounds it bore. I stood up and began to walk out the door, but I turned and looked at the scarred, nasty lump sitting on the table, barely even beating anymore. As I looked at that pathetic mess I heard it beat, oh so quietly, each beat fading into the streaks of an eraser.

Is that not what life is anymore? Things aren’t written in stone anymore, but in pencil, entire lives sketched just faint enough to be erased and forgotten the very next day.

As I listened to the heart beat I heard with each thump our memories swiftly fading away into the abyss, slipping from the heart and cascading to the flood and shattering. I listened to my icy heart tell a story, a story of two lives built on promises too empty to hold truth, too empty to hold meaning altogether. I looked at it and saw each and every last good memory crumble at my feet. The memories began to form a picture of distorted love and false passion.

In its final beats I could hear laughter and childish banter, I heard our voices quietly whispering trying not to be caught. I felt in the air, the hearts fading beats, I felt a soft touch, your a warm embrace, I felt your gentle kiss on my cheek. And as I stood there, I caught myself leaning closer to that bloody heart, and then, the room fell silent. I listened closely, trying to hear the heart beat just one more time,It was then that I saw the heart stop beating and roll to the floor dead. And through the silence I heard all your lies, I heard our false future, made up of ridiculous imaginations. In the silence I saw through all the tricks and I saw my own wasted passion and love, all of it seemingly useless.
I don’t regret a second of it. I never will. For you taught me the greatest lesson of them all, the lesson that, to get through life, you have to give up your childish perceptions of love, and join the nasty swarm that is the world, you have to be like everyone else, you have to be like you, just another monster among the heartless.

Flood

We sat on a pair of pale blue plastic chairs. My father twitched and turned awkwardly, no doubt from the uncomfortable nature of the office furniture. I wound the red leash tight in my hands and concentrated hard on the frays of string trying to escape the stitching. I tried to tug and pull them free, but the leash held on too tight to let them go. My nose stung from uncomfortable smells embedded in the floor.
STEV was written in huge cracked letters. They clung to the glass unwillingly like little soldiers clasping to the edge of a sinking ship. I remember feeling so sorry for the letters, but knew I couldn’t do anything to change their fate from what it was. I had never been here before, only ever passed it when driving to the 14 North. Rabies shot trips were too dull of an occasion to rip myself away from the Gamecube.
“If you want, we can go get a Slurpee after.” He looked down at me and smiled.
“Yea sure.” I shined an artificial smile right back at his. His face looked so far away. I swear I saw clouds and birds flutter past his ears. Only my father would cheap out on the sympathy treat for after.
Aged sneakers squeaked on the yellow stained tiles. An older woman in a blue nurses outfit entered the waiting room and called out, “Dakota?” The two of us swung our heads in her direction. I stood up relieving my ass from having to sit another second. I looked down to him. He sat still. He was so small and frail. He scrunched up and turned into a little action figure. He pulled his phone out checking the time. Impatience rolled over his face in huge neon letters.
At this stage she had trouble walking. She had trouble with everything by this point. I had to wrap my arms clear around her fur marred corpse. Her bones jabbed into my stomach. I drug the red leash into the door. Her head hung low bobbing back and forth. I thought to myself, “Did she know what I was leading her to?”
The last I saw through flooded eyes was him pacing back and forth on the phone. The waiting room now slowly filling with water. It started at his knees, then steadily rose up to his neck. He gasped for breath trying to get one last word into the phone.

Hello

Hello,

I am a college student currently based in San Francisco. I write short fiction, poetry, and whatever else may come to mind. I am quite new to the writing experience and I look forward to expanding, exploring, and exposing myself more into the world of words here on this blog. I hope you all enjoy as I get a better footing as a writer and human being.