His angel

Her mistake was asking too many questions. "Why does mommy cry?" "Why is brother's eye purple today?" "Why can't I have any friends over to play?" She was daddy's little angel, she reminded him of his sister, he'd never hurt her. So when daddy said "Go to your room angel, the grown-ups are going to watch a scary movie," she'd go and play with her dolls, happy she didn't have to watch the monsters on tv. Daddy was her hero, he'd take her to the park and push her on the swings and even though everybody says she was too young to remember, she does remember the way he used to throw her in the air when she was a baby and make her laugh and sing her to sleep. That's why nobody expected it. Nobody expected to wake up that Sunday morning in July to find all the lights out in the house, christmas carols (especially ones about angels) playing, and the mother and little boy asleep on the couch downstairs...and the little girl with her daddy...dead (in the girl's red and yellow ladybug and heart decorated) room upstairs. Nobody understood it. In her daddy's hand was a note: This is my angel. She was too good for this world so I took her out of it. She said "Daddy, I'll talk to God for you, he'll let you in."

teardrops

i'm not his shooting star
i'm not his to hold
i'm not his to call his own
i'm nothing compared to her
i'm not the one he's in love with
i'm not the one he thinks about
i'm not his modavation
i'm everything that he never wanted
i'm not his perfect smile
i cant be anything to him anymore

he's the reason for my tears
he's why i cant sleep at night
he's the one that i wanted
he's the sad song on repeat
he's the reason i hate love
he's all i think about
the only reason i keep wishing

she is his now
she is so lucky
she better not break his heart
she better hold him tight
and look in those beautiful eyes

he's the reason for the teardrops
the reason the sad song is always on repeat
maybe ill get some sleep tonight
i put his picture down

he's the one that caused this heart break.
i fake a smile so he wont see

some(one) new

i chose to walk into the unknown
i wanna see things i haven't been shown
away from the drone and the old tone
i wanna be challenged
i wanna have to work at it
not smirk when he says "that irks me"
i love having to try
and a bove all...
i'm new to him and so that means...
well, he appreciates me
he can see
how good i try to be
he tries to be rough (around the edges)
but one look is enough (these biggy blue eyes get him good)
he can't be a tough guy
around me he knows he can fly
shoot, he's cute
and i like him a lot
for now that's all i got

Big Red I'm sorry about what I said, but here's another rhyme about the class with the man and end rhyme so sublime. I sit and as I spit into the mic, I wonder what Levi would do when he knew he used to. I should be studying but I cant stop thinking about the sweet Soliloquies that were the bees-nees. Wishing and hoping for another door to open, into the decorated walls that comprise those halls. Needing more on that floor, in front of judgemental owl eyes that don't dispise. With the mic that I control, leaving everyone frozen like the north pole in my control. All of my troubles realesed to the world to catalyst thought, like the debate in class about pot. Leaving the lyrics surviving in reminisance, allways in the distance, but never really vanishing form existance. -Rabbit-aka-cookiegobbla-

Dear Sir,

Dear Sir,

usually with a heading like that you're telling someone they're dead, but no it's alive in my head. Everyday I hear myself say I'm going to do something meaningful in some way. When I first heard those prompts I didn't know what to do I felt like a foo(l). But then my writing started to spew,Thanks to you.

Being new is tough stuff it's really rough. The best thing that could have happened to me was being in this class, it was a blast and I wish it could last. But it's about to close which really blows where will my writing be left to flow? It could just go. Rdg Analytical sounds like Creative Writings' foe. I'll have to use my free time to make my ryhmes but they will be just like a mime stuck inside a box with locks under rocks. No longer for a grade will they fade?

Not only did you give my words aid but you let me know even when I go, you will still care which has been rare. You've done more for me than you probably know. You've allowed me to feel emotions so real and created for me a way to deal with them not only have you filled my words' blanks you saved me from an emotional tank for everything you've done, Thanks.

So Thanks for everything you've let me know, and as it's almost time to go I'll keep a special space, it's own place, I'll even make a base and I'll put it higher than the one's of the first friend I made here, or the first time I went to lunch with my now usual bunch the memory of the one who made writing fun but who also took away my fears and who I got more from than all my peers. My biggest influence from the year. I want to state it again so it's not a blur,

Thanks for everything Sir.

First Love

Though time and time again I feel alone
I will choose to be free
I will no longer let you tie me down
Your memories haunt me
You were the first person I trusted outside of my family
You were the first person who I knowingly hurt
Yet you have moved on happily
You even got married
Yet I fear even a date
I thought you were my forever
Then you changed
I sent you away
I prayed you would come back
Now here I sit at this desk writing a piece I know you will never recieve
I am writing to free myself from you
It hurts to say goodbye
But I have come to understand that you must say goodbye even when it hurts
So I will say it now
Goodbye my first love
I pray you aren't my last
But I pray that forever we will remember each other

To my first love.

(this is kind of jumbled but I just kinda threw it out there)

You Pick

you should have known me before we met. before my life became exciting. before you gave me a reason to stick around and find out more about this life i was so eager to leave.
you you you.
you've woken me fromt he trance i've been in for so long. you don't even know what i've been through but you don't care. every word you let escape from your mouth, each look that pierces like an arrow shooting from your eye, it gives me life, gives me feeling again, real feeling. not fake, overexicting,bubbliness but gut punching toe tingling, buzzing feeling. a good feeling. i don't think you realize what you've done.
i want to be around you always. i don't want this sensation to go away. but i must keep my distance.
i might get annoyting
you might grow weary of my anxious face.
the more i want to grow closer, the more you seem to push away.
that's how it always tends to be and then i'm left to be alone with only me.
but it's gonna be different this time i've promised myself it will.
i've made too many mistakes before.
Too many of the typical you walk out the door.

I Am

I am the stained clothes at the bottom of the drawer
I am the old toy you don't use anymore
I am the magazine at the bottom of the stack
I am the ragged towel that will never grace the rack
I am your baseball when football season is on
I am the long grass when the snow holds the dawn
I am the tile under the new kitchen floor
I am the rug that stays at the back door
I am the first cell phone you ever got
I am the apple core left in your room to rot
I am the scunci that used to reside in your hair
I am the pink elephant you won at the fair
I am the picture you let fade
I am your notebook from 2nd grade
I am everything neglected
I am everything ignored
I am everything you visit only when extremely bored

As I read my memoir...

Hold back your tears
Don't let them see your fear
Why can't I find my breath
Sweet heavens my heart hurts
Breathing is so difficult
I read this over and over to defeat the tears
I knew this would be difficult but what else could I have written
How my father is never there
How I learned not to jump on the bed
How my mom is my hero
They are topics about me but they aren't me holding his hand and feeling the last beat of his pulse
They aren't about the man I loved more then anything
Heavens stop these tears from falling
How many others suffered like me
How many others know my pain
Grandpa are you here with me
This memoir to you does not justify how great you were and still are to me
My memories are haunting me again
Heh, those puppies I just pushed them together on Sunday Grandpa
But its not the same without you
This time I fought back tears
I didn't laugh
Grandpa I need you
I have forgotten how to laugh
Grandpa I am crying...you always told me to smile
Grandpa this memoir I read to this class is helping me heal
Yet healing is painful
Every time I try to hide from this healing truth I run farther from happiness
Heavens, why do these tears fall
My strength is faltering
I'm almost at the end
Thank the heavens
Maybe now I can smile at the world
Maybe now I can be strong enough
Strong enough to be free of this memories haunting ghost
Maybse now I can smile as I tell my Grandpa goodbye
Maybe now I can look out at my peers as I read my memoir.

Grandpa, Grandma I love you now and forever. Goodbye.

Keeping up with the Joneses

"why, oh why...how did it happen?"
A mother sits on a couch across from a man, a strange man from the detective agency. The morning began with a phone call and a question, "Mrs. Jones, could I come over? There's something I wish I didn't have to tell you." So she, Mrs. Adrian M. Jones, fixed breakfast and waited for this stranger to come to her home and tell her that her daughter had been the victim of a mass rapist/murderer. She cries and cries, hoping, wishing it was a lie. Sometimes Sam didn't come home at night, but a friend always brought her home in the morning. Sam was a beautiful girl, 5'6 with wavy chestnut hair. Her blue eyes laughed at the world and everybody said she had her mother's figure and her smile - a compliment she never fully understood because she never knew her mother was a model.
A woman sits in bed and weeps. Her baby gone, her husband, as far as she knows, dead somewhere overseas, she forgets everything. She forgets to eat or drink or how to move. She forgets her name and what she looks like and what season it is.
That same man from the detective agency visits the home of the Joneses for the second time, to see another dead Jones woman. Her cheeks are hollow, her hair matted, her body emaciated. He'll bury her next to her daughter and the world'll have to find another Joneses to keep up with.

Don't move past this~

The moment it falls off your lips you feel the silence, shadowing your heart
At a glance you see the smile
An embrace that seems to last an eternity
Love? Is this real? Please say yes.
The step together never missed
The perfect beat always there
A proclamation, A realization
Life? Will this end? Please say no, don’t let me move past this
I belong, the world seems right
A sensation so warm
I belong, life can never fail
Light? Can happiness truly be found? Please answer honestly
A spring of freedom
A glimpse of bliss
A home for sanctuary
Fear? Can you be conquered? Will I be allowed to never move past this?

To the ones who would decide my future for me...

You want something different;
Unique
Well here it lies on your desk;
Discarded
Red, Black, Silver echoing around as slowly I choose the topic of my piece
Drifting through an empty space
Knowledge seems to fail me
I am one with who I am
I am torn from who I want to be
Choices flow through my mind
Torn between my passion and reality
How will I choose to make my mark?
Through strong business my reality lies
Through beats un-real does my passion lay
Appraised I seem un-worthy
Watched I seem perfect
Trials hide what could have been;
Perfection
You see a score
I see determination attempted
You see imperfection I see trials improving;
Me
You guide upon wishes which help me naught
I stray upon wishes which show me the way
I am different
I am the same
Happy as this time may seem
My truth is shattered by loss
In reality and mind
A loss of life
A loss of sanctuary
In this time my perseverance seems lost;
Wasted
Places that would push me to succeed turn away
You see a score
I see a need of true teaching
You see a number
I see a human
I see an individual fore-going the old routine
You wanted something different
Here it is lying on your desk;
Unique.

thank you

im free
there is
a God

A Love Poem?

Whenever I'm around you,
whenever our eyes meet,
my palms clam up my neck sweats
and my heart skips a beat.
My mind fills up with thoughts
wonderful thoughts about you.
And I'm thinking maybe, just maybe
you may have these thoughts too.
I think about us together, such perfection you'd create
I fell for you completely,
just like a fish to bait.
Companionship is an obstacle,
a trying difficult maze
but all that's meant for me to have,
is you only through my gaze.

Journals of the 48 hour flu

Friday December 1st, 2006
It was a great school day but the weekend is here!
And the next school week is all too near.
I really want to have some fun
but leave plenty of time to get my homework done.
Because I really do have a lot to do,
english memoir, psyc packet and my sketchbook too.
But we are going to go bowling tonight.
I beat them so bad it wasn't even right.
Now it's time to go home and I'm not too sad
because that headache I had, is now pretty bad.
We're at my house time to end my ride,
so I can get out and go inside
take some asprin and go to bed.

Saturday December 2, 2006 (It Begins)
4:30 a.m oh my gosh it's freezing,
and the feeling in my stomach is far from pleasing.
I'm so thirsty I want something to drink.
I'll do anything to leave this ice rink.
I drink a whole glass and then go back to sleep
but long enough to go into deep (sleep)
I'm up again at 5:22
This time it's clear I have a fever too.
Oh great I must be sick.
Then there's no question I run out quick.
Oh that hurt my throat burns
I want to lay down as my stomach churns
but I got to change my clothes first
keeping them on would be the worst.
I'll go through this cycle six more times
so I won't make six individual ryhmes.

It's 8 o clock now maybe I'll see
if I can get some white soda without paying a physical fee.
o.k. I'll try, big mistake
I'm so lightheaded I almost tanked.
No I'll just lay back down
and wait for someone to come around.
I call my Mom for some T.L.C.
I'm distracted by commotion over the Christmas tree.
oh wow I'm more tired than I thought
I feel like my whole body has begun to rot.

Sunday December 3rd, 2006
Oh wow it's eleven o' clock
I slept a lot better than I thought
wow I'm hungry this is new
I'm also pretty thirsty too.
Real food today, not just soup?
Maybe I can even get out of my coop,
and now I'm starting to freak out.
For all that homework I forgot about
No, I'm told I still need to rest,
that I'm not yet back to my best.
o.k. I finally give in and say
so I layed in bed and watched Roseanne all day.
Now that I think about it my body aches.
And I still have those cold shakes.
I'm hungry, but I still feel gross
so all that's brought to me is dry toast.
There's good news if I take this o.k.
I can have a broth cube today!
Yeah that's not too exciting,
maybe I'll do some writing.
SO this poem came out and I thought I'd post.
I hope you didn't think it was gross.