Triangles
To those of the world who are fixed on following fate:
Built in the likeness of triangles—forced to trek upon rigid paths
Given only seven choices or means by which to follow:
Equiangular and equilateral folk are doomed to the same fate:
Each of them stuck to their predictable, never-ending, equally disappointing three-point cycle
Scalene individuals are destined to have constant unknowns and drama
Plagued by fear and uncertainty, they are careful in their ways
Obtuse people have the ability to view the world through a wide lens
They have an otherworldly ability to understand and comfort the world around them, harnessing the power of compassion
Acute beings are bound to remain limited in life
Introverts, creatures of habit, or self-absorbed jerks— never brave enough to explore; they tremble on the site of another person’s opinion
Right-angled people always have a solution to their problems
A proper, logical, and just answer to RIGHT the wrongs of life; they make decisions for the whole of mankind
Finally, isosceles society: the standard issue beings who try to do their very best, yet always seem to mess it up somehow
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Just a silly little piece I did for 5pts of extra credit for my geometry class, thought y'all would enjoy it :)
Canto I (the past)
I walk the grounds of earth alone in search
Of a wiser soul, more knowledgeable
Than thine. From the depths, the creature does lurch,
And it lets out an inconsolable
Cry. In that moment, I know who I see,
who lives in a world so inhospitable.
A stupid little girl begging to be
Set free into a world filled with horror.
Chained back, speaks, “I beg thee, please have mercy.”
Avoiding eye contact, I speed past her
Swiftly, desperately trying to bury.
The things I’ve seen, come to me by whisper,
Leave my memories as all but merry.
Done stumbling over my thoughts, I awake
At the edge of my own cemetery.
The fear creeps around my neck as a snake,
I don’t want to remember what I’ve done.
The pain of my past is too much to take.
The haunting of which I’m the only one
To survive. All the people who have failed
To endure the trials I have overcome.
All of the paths of my future: impaled;
All of our sins: seen and mutilated;
All of my mistakes are forlorn exhaled.
All those souls I pity were ill-fated,
The ones I loved turned to mist in my hands,
My hopes and dreams, before me, castrated.
I Won’t Bite
You must let your outermost self crumble away
You will cry out in fear, but offer me a bouquet
of foxglove, lobelia, wolfsbane
and asphodel. Next, in the rain
find my husk veiled in the unknown
and drip your blood over my stone.
If your blood sinks, you'd best run without aim.
Baby, beg me for mercy; praise me by name.
I pick you up delicately, careful not to claw your back as you bleed out from your neck.
You smile and look up with loving eyes; I drop you hard, and you make a beautiful noise.
Whether dead or alive, I have no desire to check.
Moonlit, you smile wildly and walk away with poise.
Only then, in your vulnerable, ruined defeat,
do you find the true nature of a being you once desperately desired to meet.
Divine Wrath
I can’t help it; I’ve never been able to. I'll yell at them, and I’ll throw things if the yelling doesn’t work. I know they’re purposefully ignoring me because they think pissing me off is hilarious.
At the library, the three of them talking, I was attempting my homework. At first, I asked them politely to stop talking, but that didn’t work; I slammed my computer shut and stormed off. I grabbed the heaviest book I could find. What I did next… I didn’t mean to. The rage I felt was unbridled, inhuman, and possibly my first taste of divinity.
Crazy 8.
I pick up another card, a four of spades - not what I needed - my hand grows with cards, flowering and falling. I dig into the stack of cards in front of me, now knowing the root of my problems is my hands being too small, 'till I find the right one. I reach into a bowl of dried fruit, nuts, and seeds. "Hurry up, hoe! God damn," my best friend yells at me from the other side of the table. Taking a sip of water, hardy, I continue, trying to keep my calm.
Chapter 2
As I look around, I see shadows. So. Many. Shadows. All I can see are shadows. The shadows are everywhere. I hear a growl in my right ear, except as I look over, there is nothing but shadows. I look to my left and glimpse two bright white glaring eyes.
“NO!” I shouted as loud as I could muster, “NOT AGAIN! PLEASE!” I rush out of my room, sprinting and stumbling through the castle's corridors. As I scream, “SOMEONE PLEASE, HELP,” a door opens, and I run toward it.
“What is going on out there?” they say, sticking their head out to peek at the long corridors. I shove past them and slam the door shut. “Please, you have to help me.” I beg, “Do you have any medical skills?”
“I do; why do you ask?” they reply with slight concern in their voice. I turn around and lift my ginger hair to show them the giant scratch marks on my back. “I’m in dire need of medical assistance. Is there any way you can help? I’m not sure how long I have.”
“Oh dear, I’ll see what I can do,” they say, “do they hurt at all?” They say, lightly brushing the skin around the scratches. I wince at their touch.
“I think adrenaline was saving me from most of the pain, but I think it’s wearing off now,” I reply.
“They look quite painful,” they respond sympathetically. “How did you get them?”
I am not sure if I should tell anyone about the “thing” yet, I think to myself. “I'm unsure how I got them,” I reply, hoping to be as deceptive as possible, and from what I can tell, they don’t seem to know I have just lied to them. “I woke up to a mixture of blood and mud on my bed and my entire body.”
“What is your name? I should probably know who I’m trusting and ensuring my safety to.” I know I am acting far too cautious, but I don’t care.
“Oh, my name is Sanao. Your voice sounds familiar. Might I happen to know you?” asked Sanao.
“It’s possible… and likely,” I reply.
“Well, what is your name then?” Sanao asks inquisitively. “I have told you mine; now it is your turn to share. What is it?”
Should I tell them my real name or an alias? I had never done good under pressure, and I began to panic. “My name is Emerald,” I blurt out.
Sanao bows down in respect, worry openly displayed along their candle-lit face, “My apologies, your majesty. I cannot see your face, and it’s challenging to distinguish the difference between people and… things in the dark.” The last part was only barely audible.
I'm sure my face had many questions written upon it, but “I prefer if you wouldn’t address me as ‘your majesty’ at this moment, please,” I say in desperation. “and honestly, I don’t really care what you call me right now; just help me.”
Chapter 1
Here I am again, running through the woods. The mud squelches around my bare feet as I run like hell in my scarlet ball gown. As I look back, I see a dark figure chasing me—a tall, lanky, shadowy figure with white eyes and long, sharp fingers. I dodge the trees as I dash past them, hoping that “thing” doesn’t catch up. I’m exhausted and can’t breathe; I need to stop. The more I run, the harder it is to breathe, but I can't stop; this “thing” still follows me. I look back to see nothing but the trees and the night above me. I deem it safe enough to stop and catch my breath. I collapse on my knees; my legs feel like nothing under my weight, and my lungs are on fire, telling me to breathe, but no matter how much air fills them, they still quiver and shake, begging for more.
“You don’t belong here,” it whispers. Suddenly, I feel a sharp burning sensation across my back. I touch the wet, burning wound on my back. Blood. Looking back again, I see pitch black where there should be trees. “GET OUT,” it grabs my ankles and pulls, scratching my legs to shreds as it drags me closer to my castle. I thrash, mud splashing into my face and smearing itself into my beautiful red dress. It traveled quicker and quicker. My violent thrashing increased as it approached the edge of the woods. “LET ME GO!” I screamed. It didn’t stop for me. “STAY OUT,” It threw me out of the forest with such force. I tumbled down the hill. I was so exhausted. I couldn’t move; I couldn’t think. Everything in my head was a swirl of thoughts. What was that? Why was it in the forest? Why did it chase me? But before I could comprehend an answer, everything turned pitch black.
I wake up panting in a cold sweat. The blankets around me are moist with sweat as I push them off of me. I stand up, shaken. “Just another nightmare,” I say, hoping to reassure myself, but no luck. As I walk to the bathroom, my body feels greatly fatigued, as though I have run a marathon.
“Ow,” I complain as I splash cold water on my face. My hands feel… chalky? Why would they feel chalky? I light a candle before looking in the mirror in an attempt to find the culprit causing me to feel so off. I stare at myself, and to my horror, I see my pale skin splattered with mud. My hands are covered in blood and dried mud. “Was it a dream..?” My back burns so badly that I feel like someone put me on a stake and attempted to burn me alive. “It wasn’t a dream… was it?” After taking a closer look, I realize my whole body is caked in dried mud and blood.
I rush back to my bed with my candle to find my sheets and pillow covered in blood. “The sheets weren’t covered in sweat… they were covered in blood.”
Hypocrisy and Safety
Mother,
you always say you want the best
for me,
you want me to be happy.
This time,
I did what you taught me to do
I knew what was hurting me,
and I knew how to fix it,
So I did.
I did what the best solution was
for my weighing dysphoria,
and you were furious.
Why must you yell every hour?
I feared for my life when I answered
Your call.
you yelled at me,
"WHY DID YOU DO THIS?"
"YOU WERE BEAUTIFUL!"
all I could manage to do was
sit there,
trembling and
crying.
Pressing my sorrow into the shoulders of the people I trust most.
I was horrified,
and for a minute, I honestly thought
I did something awful.
But their hug gave me safety and
comfort.
They showed me
it's better to be happy and piss someone off,
than be forever uncomfortable in your own body.
But Mother,
Why are you taking the only safety
I have?
You've taken enough.
You are less of a parent, and rather
An abuser.