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Tidbits and Drabbles: HimHe is beautiful.
Others may not see it, may not appreciate it, but I can see it.
I can always see it.
It’s in the way his eyes light up when he speaks of what he loves.
It’s in the way he smiles and laughs as though this one joke is truly the best in the world.
It’s in the way his voice lilts and dips, the way his lips curl around each word, the way I find myself hanging on each and every syllable.
It’s in the way I love him, though he doesn't love me.
It’s in all of him, every part.
And it hurts.
Tidbits and Drabbles[drabble 1]
And so she sat, silently, gazing at the waters, music in her ears.
If she was aware of the stares of those around her, she didn’t show it.
She sat, and listened, and watched.
And she slowly wasted away.
And moments like these were her favorite. Moments when she could simply withdraw from the world, get lost in the music. Moments when nothing else mattered, not the obvious stares of those around her, nor the grueling troubles she’d left behind at her house.
No, in moments like these, she was free. She was unbroken.
She was home.
Drabble“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, leaning back from her with a bitter smirk. His smirk deepened when she nodded.
“Why?” he spat.
“Well…” she began, her blue, blue eyes slowly trailing up to meet his dark green ones, “you came in through my window. No one’s ever done that before.”
He blinked in surprise, not expecting her answer. After a moment, he grinned. “Fair enough. Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?”
She shook her head. “Figured you would explain on your own; though, you strike me as the type of person not to explain anything until it’s over and done with.”
“Well, as true as that may be,” he agreed, coming down from the window sill to walk around the young girl, “I think you should at least know who I am, before I…how did you say it before? Ah, yes - whisk you away.”
The crinkles present in the corner of each eye told her that he was teasin
Friends?My heart races when I'm with you.
But I don't know, do you love me too?
You're charming and funny,
Sweeter than honey.
The most beautiful eyes in the whole damn world.
Could you ever fall for such a stupid girl?
We talk, and laugh, but nothing more.
I wonder, what are we waiting for?
I look into the mirror and see
That I am not who I want to be.
How could you fall for a girl so gross?
We'll never be together—
Hell, just friends at most.
I'm so confused, and yet I feel
I would run a thousand miles
If I knew when I was done,
That I could see your smile.
Hear your laughter, and your voice too,
Saying to me softly, "I love you."
Tidbits of Writing"Jeanette"
When Jeanette had left the room, I heard a giggle from the other side of the wardrobe. As I peeked, I saw a small, round face smiling back at me, that of a girl perhaps nine, ten years of age. This, I told myself, must be Lillian. God, how she looked like her mother. Not in a sexual way, of course; rather, she seemed to be the essence of all things pure and angelic about Jeanette. At least, until you looked into her eyes. There, in the aquamarine depths, she held a gleam of mischief that, if nothing else, told you whose daughter she truly was.
Tidbits of Writing"Jeanette"
Ah, Jeanette. Just seeing the way her chestnut curls cascaded down her back was enough to let a man die happily. Then you saw her angelic face; the soft upturn of her nose, her aquamarine eyes, her soft baby cheeks down to her wide smile, a smile so bright and contagious one felt as if nothing could ever go wrong were he to see it. Her face, however, was the only angelic thing about her. The sinful curve of her backside, the wicked v-shape of her bosom she revealed when bent over, the lusciously long legs and creamy skin tone—a dangerous package designed to bring men to their knees, while at the same time thanking the heavens for such a beautiful creature. Ah, Jeanette. Would I never tire of seeing her? Was I truly to bask in her beauty, day after day, yet receive nothing for my patience? I had yet to learn the answer to my questions, but I was determined to answer them—and soon.
Tidbits of Writing"Where am I?" I yelled, echoes bouncing from wall to slimy wall. I called again, "Where am I? Hello?" Knowing full well no one would answer, I curled my knees up to my chin and sat. It was dim in the cave, though not completely dark, as though light were coming from somewhere. Where it came from, however, I couldn't decide. It seemed as though the walls themselves were emitting a sickly, mucus shade of green luminescence. Suddenly, my ears perked. I heard something, faint, besides the drip of the wall. I heard it once more, my ears not possibly working correctly. Could it be? I heard it again, louder this time, and there was no mistaking it—someone, or something, was giggling. It sounded as though it were a young schoolgirl, though I quickly dismissed that idea. If it truly were a young girl, wouldn't she call for help, or have heard my pleas? For a time, it was silent, which made me jump all the more when I heard it again, closer this time. The laughing had taken a wicked edge, and se
Tidbits of WritingShe didn't know it was possible to hate someone so completely, so fully, so irrevocably...but he proved it true that very night.
It wasn't even something he'd done directly-though that may have been part of the problem.
She wasn't sure if what she felt was loathing, pure and unadulterated in its intensity-or if all the books she'd read were right...and she really was just jealous.
She thought the former a much more probable scenario.
Catalina...Just Names For Now.Hola! Me llamo Cat. Mi nombre realmente es Catalina Antionette Rosa Juarez. Yo vivo en Florida, y yo hablo ingles, pero soy de Mexico. Yo tengo catorce anos, y mi cumpleanos es el diecinueve de mayo. Tengo siete hermanos, tres chicos y cuatro chicas. Mis hermanas mayores tienen diecisiete, dieciseis, y quince anos. Mi otra hermana tiene catorce anos tambien. Mis hermanos mayores tienen dieciseis y quince anos. Mi hermano menor tiene diez anos.
Ahora, mas sobre me. Mis amigos dicen que soy lista, bonita, traviesa, extrovertida, y comica. Mis padres dicen que soy talentosa, creativa, y inteligente. Tengo pelo oscuro y casi rizado, y soy baja. Me gusta mucho cantar, bailar, dibujar, escribir, pasar un rato con mis amigos buenos, y escuchar musica. Mi hermano menor dice que yo siempre paso mi rato maquillarse. Es verdad? Claro que si! Soy una chica, y deseo ser bella todos los dias! Yo tengo un novio; su nombre es Mateo. Es muy guapo, inteligente, listo, comico, y simpatico. Cuando el no p
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
My School Says I'm Worthless (sort of a rant)I'm a criminal because my values aren't their values
And I'm scum to say the least
Because I'm not on their list
Ones who have their lives set out
And drink from molten glory raining down from
School top balconies...
And I have myself left to blame for all the non-attempts
And truancies; the bleak distractions
That help me escape the inviolable test-score stares
Of disapproval that I attract from their
And they're forced to ask me 'Why?
Why are you still here?'
And I can barely say
That I'm afraid to leave.
That I know that no-one knows
Or what they want to be
But unlike those
I gave up
A while ago
And they can't tell me to my face that I'm a failure so they heavily imply
That my lacking presence
And even less impressive
Tendency for slacking off is evidence
That I am stupid and a fool and nothing more than such a waste of resources
And it's a disappointment
That I don't hold their ideals
VesselYour heart is a compass.
Broken, perhaps, but I know
It’s always searching for the North Star.
Which way will your beard point tonight?
DanielYou are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
FallingFailure after failure
A life not worth living
Lost in my misery
Long gone are the good moments
I keep falling
Nothing can save me now
Gone my hopes are
Because He'sHe’s listening
Millions of them.
A flash of red
And a navy hat
No warning – now motionless
With skin turned to shadows.
MusicTo live, to learn, to fly
To love to dream to die
To give it all up for the one you love
To give all glory to God above
To know who I am
To not be afraid
To know where to go
When I need an escape
To understand you're here for me
To look in the mirror and love what I see
To play to laugh to dance and sing
Music taught me everything.
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