When you smiled,
I was in love with you.
When you kissed me,
I was in love with you.
When you screamed at me,
I was in love with you.
When you were being unreasonable,
I was still in love with you.
When you told me she was nothing,
I was in love with you.
When I caught you lying to me,
I was in love with you.
When I put my faith in you,
I loved you.
When you left me,
I was in love with you.
When I was in love with you,
I trusted you.
Put down the knife,
Baby, dry your tears,
Let go of each and every single fear.
Stop shaking and
pull yourself up off the floor,
you don’t need him anymore.
Whip your cuts,
and shake off your doubts,
I need you to take deep breaths, in and out.
Look at your life love,
You’ve made quit a mess,
now it’s time to put yourself to the test.
Look in the mirror,
and know that the sky won’t always be grey,
And repeat, “I didn’t need him anyway”.
He’s gone now,
But you really should have known
All along that you’re strong enough alone.
December 30th
You don’t deserve this, its all my fault. You shouldn’t have had such a terrible daughter as me. You deserved so much better. I wish you didn’t have to go when we were in such a bad place.
I regret yelling that I hated you because I don’t; I love you.
I love you so much it hurts.
February 15th
Everyone keeps asking me if I’m okay, I don’t even bother answering anymore . . . everyone knows I’m not. I don’t even know how to do anything other than miss you. It’s my fault; if I hadn’t made you angry you wouldn’t have gotten in the car . . .
Even mom blames me.
Sometime March,
Everyone says I’m going crazy but I don’t feel crazy, I just miss you.
I just need my dad back. Please don’t leave me, please come back.
I need you.
Late March,
Mom doesn’t know what to do without you. She just goes and sits with you every day. She leaves Briana and I almost everyday alone in the house.
I can’t run from everything I’m feeling.
All I do is miss you and hate myself.
No one knows what to do without you.
I don’t know anymore,
It should have been me.
I hate myself.
May?
I can’t live like this anymore, it hurts.
Maybe June,
No more school, I can’t even remember anything from second semester.
I was in the hospital for most of it anyways. You shouldn’t have died.
Everyone keeps saying you’re in heaven now, you’re with “God” but if there’s a God why would he have let you die?
Why would he take the most important thing in my life away from me?
What kind of a God is that?
They keep telling me to have “faith”, I don’t believe faith is even a thing.
July 8th,
I’m sorry I was so difficult.
I’m getting worse.
I have no hope, or motivation.
September 9th,
I’ll see you soon dad.
You want to touch it, but you’re scared to try.
You let the fear hold you tight;
It suffocates you at night.
In between the chokes
Your mind goes on countless walks,
Where your imagination just sits and talks.
Your curiosity roams free
And their rules don’t apply,
Finally allowed to ask why.
Your fear clouds your judgment,
And your fervor slowly dies.
The fears struck in you are purely lies.
But you’ve let it go,
And you’ve let it die
To your curiosity you’ve said goodbye.
So many questions, not enough drive,
you”ll never know what its like to be unconfined,
I guess the world’s going to keep you blind.
*Repost*
A closet full of
ghost,
demons,
and monsters too.
A closet full of,
creepy clowns
with glowing eyes
and sharp teeth.
But that closet,
would never be as bad;
as the closet you grew
inside of you.
A closet full of,
anger,
jealousy,
and self loathing.
A closet full of,
dark thoughts,
bad choices,
and impulsive actions.
A closet you’ve grown
to question.
A closet,
you’ve learned to hate.
A closet full of,
made up of creature,
misconstrued tales
and scary stories.
v.s
A closet full of,
Everything that’s
ever scared you
about yourself.
*Repost*
I’ve never met anyone like this, not quite like this, not quite like him; he was so peculiar, he never smiles. He never seems to care, he just . . . he just barely makes it threw the day. I try and try but he won’t budge, not a single smile. He clutches his backpack closer to him. We were already half way to our neighborhood by now. I looked at him and he gave me a glance from the corner of his eyes. He knew what was coming next. We’ve done the same thing for almost two years now.
“Please don’t”. He asked.
“I havvvveeee to. Soooo how was your day?”
“Same as always.” He replied not amused.
“Well that’s no fun”. I pouted and continued walking in silence.
I don’t get it, everybody likes me I thought as I watched him walk. His black backpack was plain and dull like his soul. How could one person be so emotionless? Was he strange? Heck yes, but that didn’t affect his looks. I might not like his attitude but I sure did like his looks. His hair was pitch black, not a single strand was out of place. Ever couple of steps he would run his hands threw his hair. It was just long enough for that, for his to run his fingers threw it; not too long but just long enough. His eyes were brown but not like basic everyday brown it was the lightest, brightest shade of brown they held flecks of a lighter color in the center, green maybe? He had a tan toned complexion and it was . . . perfect. He was, for a lack of better words, gorgeous. We continued to walk and as we were turning onto is street he speed up like he always does. But this time I was curious, I’ve always been curious but this time it was a little too strong to ignore.
I tip toed to the door he had just entered and watched. A little boy came rushing in, he was chubby but he looked just like him. It was like someone took Blaine’s face and pasted it on the body of a one year old. Blaine’s arms outstretched to the little boy and for the first time ever I saw his smile. His smile could have knocked me strait on the ground; it was breath taking. I involuntarily smiled with him. He should do that more often I thought. Smile that is. He twirled the little boy in his arms. They both seemed so happy, so carefree.
I almost forgot how much of a stocker I was being looking threw his window. Shortly after a women appeared, she looked similar too Blaine but not quite the same. His mother I supposed. After her followed a man he looked absolutely nothing similar to Blain or the boy; a step father maybe? Blaine didn’t look too friendly with him. I guess that happens sometimes right? Stepfathers and step kids often don’t get along? Blaine had a conversation with his mother while still holding the boy in his arms. It was as if ever second they spent conversions the conversation got more and more heated. Eventually Blains face was blaring red and he sent the younger boy away. He continued to argue with his parents; I scrunched my eyebrows together trying to hear enough to figure out what they were arguing about.
“I’m not 12 anymore in 17, I can do what I want! Stop letting him treat me like a kid”.
“I will treat you how I very well please! As long as you’re in my house you follow my rules!” The man looked angered, extremely angered. I could already tell his pride consumed him from head to toe.
“Steven, maybe you should ease up a little on him”.
“What did I tell you about undermining me women!” The man I assume to be Steven grabbed her arm, she made a face that it seemed as if he was slightly hurting her.
Blaine saw red. He pushed Steven away from her and against a wall. Steven was slightly taller then Blaine but it was obvious he was not as fit, Blaine would have the upper hand in a fight and they both knew it.
“TOUCH MY MOTHER AGAIN AND I WILL BLIND YOU! DO YOU UNDESTAND?”
I flinched from the harshness of his voice. I was on the other side of the door and I was still shaking. Steven didn’t say anything. He shoved Blaine to one side and headed for the door. I knew I had to move or he would see me.
I ran to the other side of the house where I stood against the wall and waited, when I heard a car speed off I looked around. I have to go. Then I noticed there was another window to my right. I heard sobs, soft sobs. I looked in and I saw Blaine, God he was so beautiful. Even with his tear strained face he looked heavenly. I knew I couldn’t just leave like I had been planning to. I couldn’t leave him like this.
I tapped lightly on the window and watched as Blaine’s face snapped up to meet mine. He quickly whipped his face and came to open the window.
“What are you doing here? Leave.”
“No.” I said softly.
“Jess please just go”.
“I wont leave you like this.”
“What did you see?” he asked giving into me.
“Enough.”
I walked over the bed where he was sitting with his head in his hands. I couldn’t do this; I can’t see him like this. Why does this hurt me? I moved his hands and looked into his light brown red shot eyes and I did the only thing I thought I could. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. He immediately gave into me. I felt him relax and his arms wrap around my waist. I felt so small in his arms, and safe. He picked me up slightly so I was sitting on his lap with him still holding onto me, I could feel him breathing on my neck. I could feel the dampness from his eyes. I tangled my fingers in his hair and whispered, “You’ll be just fine.” again and again in his ear.
After some time just being there with him he laid down with me snuggled up to his side like a child with its teddy bear. I looked around his room, it was a dark blue-ish color, his walls were plain, and he didn’t have much up. Almost like he could get up and leave at anytime and not spend too much time packing. He took a deep breath and I heard him start to talk.
“He isn’t the first guy to do that. She was married before. Not with my father but with Jacob’s.”
“Jacob is your brother? How old is he?”
“Yeah, he’s one and a half”.
“His dad and my mom were married for five. Then things got violent. I was eight at the time. I didn’t know what was happening. They would just send me out of the house every once and a while and ever time I came back my mom would be crying and bruised somewhere.” He looked pained. He took a few more deep breaths and started again.
“But then Jacob came and things were okay again. They seemed happy. But that didn’t last for long. They started fighting and arguing even more about a month after he was born. He would yell at her to keep him quiet and she would try her best but Jacob was sick so often, sometimes she just couldn’t get him to calm down. I was eight! All I knew was that my mom was getting hurt, so naturally I stepped in front of the blow once. But even when he realized he had hit me he didn’t stop. He his me a few more time before my mom got herself together and kicked him out. He didn’t really bother us after that. I guess he could hit her but not her kids.”
“Blaine . . .”
“Stevens never hit her. He knows I’d kill him if her ever did. He just gets heated and almost. But that it, he always stops at almost. I try and convince her to leave him but she wont listen. She just says she loves him.” By this point I was almost in tears.
“Its my job to protect them. I should have protected her years ago! I should have known! I was an idiot!”
“Blaine, please stop! You were eight, you couldn’t have known!”
“Jess he HURT her! I grew up with a man the HURT my mother! That’s the home I lived in! What if, what if one day . . . I grow up to do the same?” I was taken back, he looked so sad, and he looked so scared. How can he even think that!
“Blaine Anderson don’t you DARE say that again! Do you hear me? You are not him! You will never be HIM!”
“You don’t know that.” He said it like he was confronting his worst fear; and he was. He was absolutely terrified of the idea of ever being a monster like the man he shared a house with for five years. His monster isn’t under his bed his is in his head. How do you hid from a monster like that? I looked at him, I really looked at him; he was so scarred. I cupped his face in my hands and whipped away the moistness rushing from his eyes and I kissed him. I kissed him because I felt something about him, because he made me feel something, something stronger than I was used to, something that felt like a lot like fire. He kissed me back after his moment of shock and when we stopped he looked at me, neither of us speaking a single word. He laid us back down and I rested my head on his chest with one leg thrown loosely around his waist. He closed his eyes and relaxed ad I did the same.
He was not plain, or dull, or careless. He was never emotionless or heartless. This is it, this it where his heart is. I was the one without something to care for. His is here, it’s in his family, it’s in his home and his love for that is what made me realize what my passion is. He’s emotions are contagious. He gave me something to care about, something to put my heart in, him.
Tangled hair,
Splattered emotions
On baggy shirts
I’m at it once again.
“In a world full of criticism,
I have the worst opinion”.
I said as I painted the sun.
‘Nunca está perfecto’
But I’m never quiet satisfied.
I looked back, to see what it’s become.
That lines not quite right,
Those colors don’t flow,
And that read is just too bright.
In the trash another one goes.
‘Grab another canvas
Otra vez! Inténtelo de nuevo!
Imagine it once more’
I’m at it once again.
I fell in love,
I fell in life.
In each battle I learned to fight.
I let it go,
I let it fall.
In your hands you held it all.
You held my soul,
You held my smile.
Though you only kept it for a while.
My heart sped up,
My heart broke down.
My world collapsed
harshly on the cold ground
Yet in your arms I was forever safe;
forever sound.
Silly me, silly my
You never cared,
You’re filled with lies.
You held me still,
You held me down,
Made sure I’d stay hell bound.
Shackles on tight,
with no sorrow in your eyes.
You burned my mind,
You burned my heart.
Every scorching atom of fire,
would hold a letter.
Stuck in some sick twisted puzzle game;
those letters spell out your name.
My painful hopeless eternal flame.
Gabby Esteva
He could barely remember what she looked like and it was killing him, driving him insane. Damn it, what color were her eyes again? He continued to try and recollect the features of the girl he was once so in love with. It was as if in five years her entire countenance was erased from his memory. He could barely remember her voice, but he remembered he found it soothing. He could recall the way she would sing to Andrew every night; he had fallen in love with that voice of hers just as quickly as he had fallen asleep hearing it so many nights before. Fast asleep with the lullaby she would sing to the one year old latching on to her arms. It had become his lullaby too. But it wasn’t the same; five years had passed since then. Andrew would be six by now; his son, would be six by now.
His lullaby was no longer brought to him by the lovely hum of his wife Lillian, his lullaby now consisted of the dull roar of heavy wheels on dirt roads and the sound of men yelling out commands. It would sing from the distant sound of constant gunfire and the sensation of heat waves hitting his body. His life could no longer revolve around Andrew and Lilly but around his men; the men he had to keep alive. Home was now where his family was; only his “family” shared no blood with him. He found comfort from the feeling of heavy equipment on his shoulders. His happiness was not from hearing he would be free to go back to North Carolina; it was from hearing he would be deployed the following week. He never went home anyways, not on Christmas, New Years, or the end of his leave. He always chose to stay.
Daniel had always found it hard to write to Lilly. He could never explain to her why he wouldn’t be coming home that year. He never had the heart to tell her he was already home. How could I ever tell her I didn’t have the desire to leave Bulgaria? His men needed him, how could he leave them? He knew Andrew would be without a father and Lilly would be patiently waiting for his return. He had served all the terms he was required to serve; he was free to return to North Carolina at anytime. He was choosing to stay. He was choosing the fight, the rush of being pushed and carried to the point of death. He could barely remember Andrew at all. He at times would be alone in his tent, after a night rave and he’d feel disgusted with himself. She’d die if she knew.
Around 3:00am every night the vile of his body would build up. He couldn’t comprehend why he was still here, why stay? He has a family who needed him; well in his case he had two. But how could he willingly pick a life of death and chaos over the peaceful home with his wife and son. What was so great about marching miles and miles night after night, sleeping on cold ground in a small tent, sharing meals and bathrooms. Everyday he stayed he risked his life, and the chance of never seeing Andrew again. Every now and then he wondered how tall Andrew would be; 3’5”? 3’8”? He just couldn’t help it; he loved the rush and the constant movement, the pressure of being a soldier, the adrenaline that came with it.
His term was almost up. A week from today, I’ll be heading home. He thought it was about time for him to meet his son, for him to fall in love once again with his wife. It was time for him to come down from the constant adrenaline high, it was time for him to stop risking his life and start living one. Five years was enough for his men, it was enough for his country.
“Commander Daniel Floyd, will you be staying with us for the up coming term or will you be heading home?” Officer Jarred asked.
“I will be staying sir”.
I couldn’t help it.
Another year would slowly pass by; Daniel would spend another year disgusted with himself. Another year spent aching for his son, for the soft touch of Lilly’s hands. Yearning for the silk voice of the one he loved but it was also another year of the rush, another year of the reckless life Daniel craved. He spent the sluggish days fighting his emotions and thoughts. The incessant fight of what his heart and mind wanted vs. what his body insisted it must have. Just one more year, only another year, another year, another year; almost there, almost home.
3:45am and the sound of worn down boots crashing against the gravel echos through the air; another night rave. The air itself seemed to be dark. The view of two tall buildings came into his line of sight. Huddled together, the men walked toward the first building. Back to back they searched for any sign of a threat.
“Clear”.
Daniel’s shoulders relaxed. His heart was pumping and the blood was soaring through his body; this was what he lived for. Carefully exiting the dingy structure, they walked towards the next building.
“One down, one to go.” Daniel said under his breath.
With Daniel’s newfound rush he walked a little faster than the rest of his men. By the time his men caught up to him all they saw was Daniel’s face; pale. All the life was drained from his skin. His eyes were bulged and they held fear; fear his men have never seen in their commander before.
“Jacob, take the men and get back”.
Jacob and the nine men behind him were puzzled; at first they didn’t react.
“NOW”!
This time all ten men reacted to the harshness of his voice stepping back and turning to jog away. With a saddening look Daniel looked down towards the circular shape under his right foot; he knew what it meant. He had walked into his own death. After checking to make sure his men were far enough away he took a deep breath. In his last moment he couldn’t decide which of his families he should say I’m sorry to. “I’m sorry boys.” he said lifting his foot.
The sound waves of the explosion erupted through the sky; the impact knocked the remaining men down to the ground. They all turned around to see the building consumed in roaring flames; the building that held their leader.
“Another year” had been Daniel’s last year.
It was his last year as one of the strong, his last year as one of the brave. It was his last year as a father, his last year as a husband, his last year alive.
Commander Daniel Floyd 1972-2003, proudly served 1997-2003
Can’t sleep without your breathing
When you disappear, so does my light.
I can’t think each time you’re leaving.
You left me; I’m a bird missing its flight.
You left me, that is all I know.
You left me, but I’ll keep my fight.
“I won’t let us go!”
I screamed out in pain.
Couldn’t you hear my plea? This can’t be so!
If I let go, the what ifs; they’d drive me insane
The fervor is too strong to deny, too strong to ignore
I could give in but I’d be losing all I could gain.
Repost
Creative Writing II/Creative Writing II Honors 