Please! Stop!
He keeps walking away
and I
keep screaming.
No one seems to hear
the cries of a
broken girl.
I just want to be
whole again.
What do I need to do
to make them see
that I'm not worthless?
I don't have an answer
So I just keep screaming
until the screams turn to
tears.
sharp tears
tears that could kill.
They just might kill me.
Please.
Please. Stop.
Confusion. That's what I am currently experiencing. I used to believe that I was a self-assured and secure person, but now I'm not so sure anymore. From the countless times that I've been left feeling vastly empty and irrelevant, to the endless times that I've found myself searching for answers to unanswerable questions. I am confused. So what exactly am I confused about? Well, the cold hard truth, is that I am unsure myself. There is no specific person or object or aspect that I am confused about. I am just purely confused.
He hadn't wanted the light there.
She had insisted - there was light on her, light on her voice, lifting her up, letting them all see her. He was playing too (had a solo during one of the songs, actually) so why shouldn't they see him?
He'd tried to protest that it wasn't traditional, and she'd just given him one of those looks, the one that made him certain that if ever (...when) she did get signed the record label wouldn't be able to force her into one of those moulds they seemed so fond of.
He'd stood his ground,...
2070 grains of rice. For six people. To last six weeks.
Less than 60 grains of rice per week.
No water too cook it with. All the water is too polluted.
We don't even have canned beans anymore.
What if you were one of these six people?
Maybe you could save your brother, child, or friend by sacrificing your own life.
Would they eat you??
Maybe, but at least you would no longer feel the pain of your body slowly eating itself.
Would you really be saving your family, your friends?
After all, there is no guarantee of another 2700...
It was the fall that surprised me the most. The fact that it took so long that I could actually be afraid of the action of falling. The wind was stinging my face and making my eyes water, I was screaming but the noise of the explosion had taken out my hearing. The people strapped in around me were mere shadows, forms with fuzzy outlines and indiscernible features, mouths open in silent noise.
I forced my head back round, my throat filling with bile as the ground suddenly rushed up to meet us, my fingers twisting in the belt around...
I broke away from him and held my unbrella over my head as I walked, my head held high. "Erika! Erika!" I stopped in my tracks, spun on my heel and stared at him. "What?" He didn't move closer to me even as people jabbed and pushed past him on the street. The fresh raindrops fell onto my outstretched hand and created a gentle humming sound as they hit the ground around me. "I'm sorry. I never should have said that." He was right, he sure shouldn't have said that to me. But then... He just stood there, rain dripping...
It was the third day of my cruise and I was bored as hell. If I had to sit through another party on the deck with the awful music and the dull people in fancy clothes I was going over the side with no life preserver. I decided to walk slowly around the perimeter of the ship by myself instead.
Suddenly, I saw a Jack Russel terrier sitting on the railing all alone. I was seized with a crazy impulse. I looked around and saw no one; no one to witness the heinous act I was contemplating. With a twisted...
La pirogue avait appartenue à son père. Il pêchait tous les matins. Chaque matin il tendait dans l'eau son bambou dans le calme du lac. Aucun bruit ne venait déranger son activité favorite, jusqu'au jour ou un ours l'appela depuis le rivage. L'ours voulait traverser la rivière et lui demandait combien cela pouvait bien coûter. Antinoma lui répondit qu'il lui en couterait 3 poissons. Il venait chaque matin et retournait bredouille vers sa case. L'ours saurait il lui apprendre à pêcher afin que son père du haut de son paradis puisse être fier de lui?
l'ours avait peur de l'eau....
Sadie didn't believe Mother when she told her it would be a greater adventure than the ones she entertained in the garden. Mother squeezed her, kissed her cheek, and they all laughed once upon the summit. The air was so cold and dry it cracked the skin of her cheeks and it chapped her lips, yet it felt thin and clean, like the waters from the stream.
The ladies breathed heavily, hands on their lower backs, stays pinching them into a dazed sort of happiness. The men gallantly offered arms for them to lean on.
They lingered a bit longer...
"Dragonflies are good luck," his grandmother used to say. "They are fairies' horses. Their wings spread wishes and wonder."
He remembered that and not much else about her. They would sit in the grass by the shore of the lake. He used to spend three weeks every summer out at his grandparents house. They picked blueberries and chopped wood, made cookies and walked in the woods.
He was an adult now. They were long dead.
His daughter stood in front of him, frowning, hands onm hips. "That's not true, daddy. Dragonflies are dragonflies, not horses. And fairies don't exist."
He...