‘Je ne regrette rien’
He heard a sound of a hiss. Was there a snake or worse snakes in his chamber? The curtains near the window were moving back and forth- by a slight midnight breeze.
Landel stretched his arms and got out of his bed. He placed his hand over his mouth, as he yawned. Why was he up again? Ah, he had heard a hiss close by.
He walked to the balcony and looked around. Landel stood still peering at the moon.
Then he heard someone ask if he had ever seen the moon this late at night. He turned around, soon he started to tremble. What was she doing here?
Landel: (In a whisper) Marbel? Why are you here & this late in the hour?
She laughed when he turned his head in fear, placing his hands over his eyes.
Marbel: (sighs) Oh, hmm. I came to pay you a visit, my darling. Its been a while since we had a chat, or even looked into each other’s eyes. Don’t worry, I promise to not turn you into stone.
Landel felt really nervous. When he first met Marbel, he had fallen head over heels for her. She was his soulmate. The one time that he had seen her turn some poor fella to stone, he decided it was time for him to leave. Everytime they had been together, she had a hat or wrap covering most, if not all of her hair. Now he knew why she had been doing that.
Marbel: (chuckles) I thought you would treat me fairly, Landel. I have seen how things are going to be from here on. I came with my precious ones this time. They were curious and wanted to get to see you, my dear.
Landel shook his head. His heart started to leap and beat like crazy. What was Marbel trying to tell him anyway?
Marbel: Huh! Hey, don’t be rude dude. At least look at me when I’m talking to you.
Landel slowly peeked around and glanced at Marbel for a second. That’s all it took. The snakes on the top of her head were so pleased, that they hissed with lots of joy for getting to see Landel. Marbel thought she could control her powers, that was not the case. Her eyes glowed a bright purple and she saw her love begin to turn to stone.
Marbel tried to close her eyes and look away. Landel felt his whole body, heart and soul begin to feel heavy.
Marbel walked slowly toward Landel and placed a hand on his chest. She couldn’t feel any beating from his heart. It was now a heart of stone.
The tears from Landel’s eyes trickled down his face. Marbel wiped them away, and bid farewell to Landel. She slithered away with no regrets. He didn’t want to be with her any more. So, she made sure that no one would ever be with him. Landel should have known not to mess around with a gorgon!
An ocean of stars
My body is a painted rainbow
I am an astronomical explosion
i am from the stars
i am a creation story
I am a shooting star
I Have rolled in stardust
to feel a little galactical
my hands have traveled the world in search
I found a girl
who swallowed her smallness
She ate the moon and the sun
she’s got the desire to take over the world
she drives a rocket to get where she’s going
she says love you to the moon and back
trust me She’s knows how long of journey
it took to know about this word love
she is an Illuminary
youll catch her dance in the window
she’s stuck in a daydream
and still believes in neverland
they Named her Pluto
and told her she wasn’t a planet
as If they can make her small
cause she wasn’t part of their solar system
she had her gravity
floating on her own magic
she got craters in her insides
she was her destruction
but even stars destroy themself
to be reborn
i Am a fourth July
I celebrate my own indepence
i look to the sky
and Trip into the Milky Way
my mind travels to black holes
and sulk in my darkness
I am a Picasso
my visions thrive in color
I am a starry night
you can call me Van Gogh
the clouds with me
let’s imagine a world where I make it
I could eat the Core of the earth
I still wouldn’t be immortal
but i would like to try at least
I won’t let myself die over sunset
I will sunrise myself out of depression
Like a bird set free
smile to my knees down to toes
i have spent time in the mirror
ripping out of the magic of me
my hand is an Acradaba
i Have tried to poof out of exitence
i forgot i am a night sky of stars
i am saturn
i contain myself in rings
so my insides won’t spill out
I am emotional
sometimes the turmoil
is like an asteriod
I am just Looking for somewhere to land
Just let go of the night with me
fly me to the moon
I will close my eyes and pretend I don’t know the way
tHere is something beautiful
as I watch the big bang theory of me
your not ready for this creation story
fell Down to my knees
in awe of the goddess in me
I have treked stars
collecting the moon dust specs that fell from arrivAl
hoping to travel back enough
to rember how To get back home
but I don’t think
I was meant to vist the same places twice
and maybe thats the beautiful thing about stars
We leave a touch where everyone we go
beautiful alien girl
let them think Your a green Martian
they have forgot what human looks like
more love than pain
sometimes you gotta satilite to find your people
I havent found them yet
I am like an astronaut
i discover the space around me
cause their something beautiful about knowing about the vast emptiness
that makes you feel whole
I crash down
I am an cosmic amusement
she not like us
you can Call her Venus
some say she’s emotional
I am More SOUL Than HUMAN.....
i think fall hits the hardest … you could scroll the Pinterest feed everything is methodically about how autumn is life after death, but the truth is—sometimes we break gradually, sometimes the break is like glass, and we can never be put back together.
I hated how my sister smelled, wrapped around my neck and suffocated me in her scent, creating a thick opaque fog, hazy over my head, engulfing me in the faint presence of a shadow of her. As I grew farther and farther from her as each day passed as I didn’t engage in this childish game of make-believe making up memories with my sister, the hole in my chest growing bigger each day, I hadn’t been in my sister’s room since five years ago.
I missed the way I used to lay on her carpet waiting for her faint arms to wrap around me and whisper gently in my ear that she loved me, as much as I loved her even though I didn’t know, for I truly believe the not knowing wasn’t what was eating me inside; it was the fact that loving her was an allusion (someone I didn’t know), that is what hurts me more—I don’t even feel I deserve to even mourn her , this is why I sleep with my eyes open because those are the dreams that I can’t even control whereas nightmares occur when I close my eyes in the dark and I have dreams of my sister that feel so real only to wake up to the piercing reality my sister isn’t here.
My sister used to hum the song where it goes I am just a falling angel trying to find my way back home. Sometimes, we have to visit the dark places to heal. I opened the door to my sister’s room and opened the door to her closet and let myself grieve where no one could hear my tears, and the walls closed around me and the shut out the world. I reached my hand in the back of closet and trying to hold myself from the walls closing in on me and I felt a box scrape against my hand drawing a jagged line through my hand, it’s unsteadiness felt like plastic, it’s translucent fragility deemed it plastic. I dipped my hand inside to steady myself, my hand fidgeted around the tips of journals, my hand fidgeted against the bumpy covers, sparkly, flowery, pearly covers; my hand danced around each one. I choose the bright red one with the gold lettering chipped away by time—aged, and desired to be slit with ink to bleed such emotion in order to feel something, in order to contain the urge to rip into the veins of the soul pushed closer to the wall of the box shying away from touch, but gently catching my eye, but so innocently desiring to be noticed, but slowly sinking into the box, blushed and embarrassed at how human or vulnerable it felt.
It reminded me of my sisters wrist, small and slender; the red reminded me of her hair and the gold lettering on the front reminded me of the way she looked as if she was being eaten away by sleepless nights and racing thoughts and the secrets that devoured her, it was like she had gnawed on her soul, to feed the emptiness she felt in her chest, my sister was an artist and her canvas was her pain.
I trembled as I opened her and tried to feel just anything I needed—to be split in half down to the marrow, because a knife just isn’t enough.
Gnawed at fat on my bones Slipped a pill down the pipe And watched it coil around my waist And watched the numbers fall Eyes sunken in my aspirations Of dreams of vogue Became addicted to the way the scale Brought me down the rabbits hole Spiraled out of control Tasted the vomit of my decisions Wrapped myself in disquieting thoughts Of being able to slip my arms around my waist I deep throated the truth I let it sink deeper in my veins and pushed my throat For daring me to vomit Every meal of last year thanksgiving I swallowed the pain because that was the only thing my stomach could handle Just not the truth just not yet
Sometimes, we recede in the closet of our soul because we are scared to be seen as we are broken.
And I was broken, just like my sister.
I tried to heal my broken heart with poetic words of misery because I was tired of feeling. I didn’t want to feel this lump in my throat.
I hated the desire to miss her and allowed myself to miss her without feeling I’d forget her. If I let myself fall into the path of grief, but, I feared even more, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out after grasping the truth about her, I believe it’s the feeling that kills us not the feeling itself.
Grief was something I wasn’t ready to accept
I layed in my bed till two in the memory , shivering in the cold opaque air
alice in wonderland
Her mind trickled, into bridges and faraway places called no man’s land, fallen into a nirvana neverland, for her mind couldn’t stay awake, so she succeed into the tomorrows. sleep her revolving door, a never-ending chase of a bunny rabbit that chimes she is late, the red queen who yells off with her, she loses her head, every time she is grappling with the time, she can´t buy back. Her name is Alice. Her last wonderland, sometimes we trickle too deep in the mattress and sink into cotton filled dreams and the hallucinations feel real. This is her Story. It was a heavy drunken summer sunshine, that filtered the forest of Hildridge, Maine The clouds a puffy white, that had the color of cocaine. The grass was a soft a moss The willows trees danced to the whisper of the winds, Giggling girls dressed in pretty purples, luxury lilacs and widows white crafted from the fabric of lace and chiffon, hairs done up in cute curls and flowers entangled in braids and aristocratic styles. The violins hummed to the quiet, and there was Alice, she odd and estranged, everyone assumed she was bored with reality and she needed to grow up.
She had fallen asleep during her lessons and they even named her sleeping beauty because of how much she slept during the day, always well rested and daintily innocent and gorgeous. She would wake, and people would ask where she would go. She would mumble wonderland, everyone would laugh at the juxtaposition she was in, her muscles move so lackadaisically from her sleep, and the way she grappled with the world around her, her body moved like a balance beam, bowing into the person face as she laughed and giggled into the mouths of fools and her body spasm into a jolt of happiness, so it would seem to be. She would hallucinate herself in a world, where Cheshire cats existed, and her only friends were named Tweedled-dee and Dum; red queens were judge jury and justice and caterpillars smoke hookah and flowers sing where hats were mad, and rabbits carried watches and said they saying all things she deemed to be true, I am late, I am late, for Alice was always two seconds behind, catching up to the endless game of time, which faulted her existence. When she would wake, she would yell about a queen who deemed her head too fit for her throne, Sometimes, it was like—it was her body crystallized where she laid. Sometimes, she remind of us of Snow White, the way she lay still and sometimes we would catch her not speaking or moving, it was like she was frozen in time. But this was Alice, our Alice forever in Wonderland.
Dear Allie you don’t know me that well but I know you. I know you so well it feels like we have been lovers forever. I love what you have done to your hair and your new shampoo smells so good. You’re so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Did you know that you snore? It’s really soft but I think it’s endearing. Did you get the present I left in your room it’s the pin you were looking at the other day with your family. Don’t worry my love it is almost time for us to be together. We won’t be apart ever again and no one will be able to stop us... XOXO
We are infinite
Travel across the galaxy
Orbit your solar system
Hoping to fall into your planet
Asteroids Are the obstacles that prevent me from reaching an 7hrs difference
Meteor are what happens when we collide
Interstellar of darkness
Black holes are the negative energy that disrupts this world
In a sky of stars
Couldn’t shine my way home
Travel light years
And still would never be able to reach you
What it’s like to love the infinity
And never reach your serenity
Comets are empty wishes
Never land is place filled with should of and would’ve
Are leftovers from pixie dust
Is the train stop
But earth don’t even want me
And Saturn rings couldn’t even contain me
And I can’t keep jumping to Jupiter
And get lost in your fumes
We hit the gas
In our spaceship
We haven’t even hit the takeoff
Stuck in the stages
See trip into the past
And fall back to the future
I ain’t even gonna lie
I tried that clock
It didn’t work
I tried to jumpstart
Maybe that’s why I crashed when I landed
See I still stuck in the spacesuit
Cause I am scared of this big blue world
I walk around like astronaut
Can’t even touch the ground
I am vibing on a new wave
See ground control
To major Tom.
Landed in the moon
Left my footprint
So you know I tried
We a landmark
We would never make it
Stabilize all landings
I amma need you to see me your location
I amma eject myself
Cause i am foreseen
The danger of riding at a speed I can’t seem to control
Transmit my message
Fall from the sky
Maybe I fall from crowds
Slip into a black hole
And maybe we could meet in the middle
We got lost in. Our child dreams
Looking for a star
They all look the same
We your eyes have gone gray
And mermaids look like fish
When the magic runs out
And tiger lily
Is just a flower
And Peter Pan
Is just peanut butter
Is just new drug
Is just an restaurant
And hook is just something kids use to hang themselves in bathrooms
Is the nickname is given to me
And pixie dust
Boats don’t fly
Everbody is a lost boy
Love ain’t real
Cause it will leave you blue
Tiaras break when applied with pressure
And boys aren’t princes
And happily ever after
Is for story books
You could paint with all the colors of the wind and still feel dead
You could see the light and be consumed by darkeness
You could be in a whole new world and still feel like an alien
You could look in your reflection and hate yourself
You could be a genie in a bottle , but the make tricks run out , and frown will appear
You could be a beauty and the beast and the monster would still overpower you
You could be a sleeping beauty , and have insomnia
You could be as far as you go , but be closer to death
You could dream a wish your heart makes and still dream a nightmare
The world gone gray
He hands me a pack of color pencils
And says color your reality
And I smirk
Cause he has eyes still have color in them
And he still smile like the world was never broken
And he stares at me
At my broken mind
And sees a world
I don’t tell him it is a funeral
Cause he making flower crowns
How fitting I think
I am Persephone
The goddess of hades
Bury me in roses ....
And I will color your world in pastels
Marshmallows suck. There. I said it. Before you attack me hear me out. Let me set the scene. You're sitting outside on a chilly October night, surrounded by your closest friends, laughing and singing dumb campfire songs. Even though the music is loud, the comforting crackling of the fire is still heard and it reminds you that you are here. You are not spinning around alone and forgotten. You are here. In your best friend's backyard, with your other friends, with food, with music. For a split second, everything is okay. You don't think about how you failed your Chemistry test. You don't think about how your dad left. You don't think about how Katniss should have gotten with Gale. You don't feel crippled by life. You feel okay.
Until Emma brings out the marshmallows. Sure, some people like them. They're soft. Squishy. Kind of like boobs. But those little clouds of gelatin, corn starch, sugar and water are demons in disguise. They are impossible to roast properly. If you overcook them they shrivel and burn, just like your GPA. If you undercook them, they're hot and cold. Indecisive. Just like that girl you were gonna ask out. Marshmallows can act like they are perfect. All golden on the outside when really they are just sticky and gross on the inside, just like your life. On the outside you seem to have everything together when in reality you are just as confused and lost as everyone else. But, for the sake of those still clinging to the hope that marshmallows are good, lets just say you were able to correctly cook one. It's golden. Melty. Not too burnt, not too soft. Right in between.
Now try eating it. You can try this three different ways. The first, is just eating it right off the skewer. Good luck with that. You will burn your face off. In your haste to remove the smoldering skewer from your face you will burn your fingers. You will end up in the emergency room with second degree burns and when the nurse asks you what happened, you will lose all dignity and tell her you tried to eat a marshmallow.
The second, is waiting until the marshmallow has cooled down enough to touch and eating it with your hands. Bad plan. Very. Bad. Plan. Only three things can bring something together faster than a college student with a two hour deadline; Hate, the gel form of super glue and a half melted marshmallow. Got melted marshmallow between your fingers? Get used to living a cohesive life with your fingers cemented together, because friend, that's never coming off. It will get stuck in your hair. It will get stuck in your clothes. Accidentally touch someone? Congratulations! You and that poor person are now siamese twins. There is no escaping it. You will suffer through life with a preventable handicap. All because you tried to eat a marshmallow.
The third and final way one can try to enjoy a marshmallow is by making a smore. What could be better than a warm chocolate covered melted marshmallow squished between two golden graham crackers? Sanity. Have you ever tried to eat a smore? The chocolate never stays on the marshmallow. The graham crackers always break. You will burn fingers and your mouth. The chocolate will always be colder than the marshmallow. And those are just the trials of eating a smore, I'm not even going to mention how hard it is to make one. Twenty years later you are still living in denial. You still pretend to enjoy this process. You are trapped in a never ending saga, because you just had to eat a marshmallow.
So, Emma brings out the marshmallows. Everyone gets up and goes for the skewers. You sit alone, accompanied only by the cold air, distant laughter from friends and the fire. The red, blue and orange swirl together into flames and the comforting crackling has now turned into a mocking laugh. You are alone. Again. Marshmallows suck.
All I Need
bittersweet tang consume me
lick deep and dark
taunt my helplessness
until I’m wound
a knot of frustration
my ineffectual admirations
rousing secret salivations
but I stop not
heady longing slinks
into rewarding reveries
inspiring delicate daydreams
of persuasive possibilities
I welcome delicious delirium
oh, my love unrequited
give me distance
let me yearn from afar
my addictive little drug
imaginings of you
are all I need
Years From Now.
Years from now I hope I’m where I want to be.
In a house with the one I want by my side, waking up next to her every morning.
Working in a job that I love.
I get to come home to her every day. But that’s years from now.
Right now I’m stuck at home, in a job I hate. Stuck miles away from her.
I’m stuck sitting and waiting for the chance to do something with my life
One day I’ll be drawing to my hearts content.
One day I’ll be buying my first house and moving in.
I’ll be moving into that house with her. And loving every moment.
But that’s years from now