Creative Writing per. 1

2009-10-17T04:56:00.000-07:00

You Are......

you are the blood

on BRUISED hands
you are

the taste of REVENGE on the very tip

of my tongue

you are the

GRUDGE I hold and to remember whenever

there's a black sky

you are the sound of the GUN EXPLODING

with rage at Columbine

you are the eyes

of that innocent little girl waiting underneath the table

hoping that he wont

come home with the HEIKIN bottle in hand

you are the DEEP BLACK SCARS

on my wrist that scream out words of hatred

you are the shattered glass,

on the already BEATEN DOWN floor,

from that whipping hand about to strike

again and again

you are the words of silence,

on those BLOODY lips,

that he never speaks of because he's

afraid of the consequences

you are the dirt on that DRUGGED

person's lips crying for help

on the inside

but not caring on the outside.

you are VIOLENCE

2009-10-10T10:19:00.000-07:00

No Title

The notes that escape as words without meaning.

Everything you say will be absurd.

For my love is so well defined.

That nothing will hurt or damage my soul.

Everything you say obsolete it shall be.

2009-10-02T14:18:00.000-07:00

I am From/For

I am for the family barbeque's that fill the air with the aroma of grilled chicken and only the best ribs covered in honey barbecue sauce. The volleyball games that we want to begin as soon as we come to the field and make us sweat until night.

I am for women priests being heard, understood, and accepted as nothing new or different. That the word of god still goes through them and is perfectly valid, and the justice that serves it well.

I am from obsession with loving the soft kissing breeze that Mother Nature brings to warm our hearts and make us feel like we belong and have a purpose in the world we call home. From obsession with natures contents and it wealth. Its foothills and mountain and fruit bore from its rich soil that we take very much for granted in this life that some think “sucks”.

I am from the empty hallways that hold me impatiently as I walk through hoping for the bell not to ring so that I wont be bombarded by hordes of people, who bump into you as if you weren’t there.

I am from my Aunt’s cooking that I have never liked but always appreciated because I know she cares and wants us to feel good. As If that’s what I wanted.

I am from the never-ending setting sun that sometimes gives off brilliant colors and makes everyone take pictures.

I am from the times in the winter when I sled down my hill in my shop rite bagged up boots and heavy winter jacket with my ecstatic cousins who have waited for this moment since forever. From the Easter egg hunt in our huge backyard when I got a thorn stuck inside my thumb and Chris pushed the bush aside and I considered him my hero. Still to this day I have it inside my thumb, blue and dense, and bumpy to the touch.

I am from getting over my public speaking fears and speaking my mind, not being afraid who’s listening. For who I am today, how I’ve changed, who has changed me for the better or the worse.