Tag Archives: freewrite

Denied Access

I

A closed off world, no longer reachable by me. My brain, not wrapping around the intricate non-geometry–such an abstract plane. This same world used to play right into my hands, dancing on the fingertips of my misery, the fingertips unique to each different mystery. Now the mysteries go unsolved as the pen stops and so do my thoughts.

II

The locks won’t stop me from checking though. I’ll go down every alley until I can access that universe again–the one I used to get lost in, loved in, felt safe in. The one that accepted me when my family couldn’t, the one that filled the void when my own universe broke. I know it’s hidden away somewhere, I still have the key–I just can’t find the right lock.

III

The universe, the universe. Abundant indeed, always came to me in my time of need. I drowned in it without dying, frowned in it without crying, and was allowed to do what I want without my limits always lying. I want  to go back, if only it’d let me. Where is it now–why does my memory escape me?

IV

I think I’ve found it–there was just a small piece missing. It turns out that every door was unlocked, I just didn’t have the strength to knock. I knocked them down and threw away the key–a very useless thing, trivial to me. Only strength of emotion can get me in–a happiness, sadness, anger, or frustration. I’ve made my own kind of key and will use it well, though honestly, only time will tell.

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Really, now

Lost myself?

I am only now allowed to find myself,
Coming up from under the rock that is your fist,
I’m experiencing my firsts,
A grown up baby,
Still a baby due to your fumbling,

Mumbling that you don’t know me anymore,
When you never knew me in the first place,
Because you didn’t want to see me as anything but your idea of perfect.

Don’t talk to me
If all you have to say is “slut”,
Because I know I’m not
Forgetting what I am? Forgetting where I’m from?
I wish, but I will never forget being ruled under your thumb,

That shy girl is not the girl you thought you raised,
Obedient little girl you (hardly) praised,
Please, allow, allow for once in your life,
Me
To show you who I am and how I’ve changed
Because I’m no longer your little minion,
Despite what you think I’ve grown quite independent…
Actually always have been, but you never quite saw it,
But oh well no one but you is competent

So if,
Hypothetically,
I have lost myself
(If so it’d be due to you erasing my identity),
Maybe instead of trying to find me, then,
Allow me to find myself, fix my own mistakes,
Figure out for myself what it takes
To live life without a helicopter, blades cutting my neck,
Burdening my shoulder.

Leave me alone,
I won’t call if I need help

Of Course, Darling

Over and over and over and over,
Continuing the agony, burning the feeling into her hands,
Disconnected from her soul, that sour taste on her nails,

Opaque eyes, glazed over but in systematic motion,
Cracked lips, dry smile, always there at the turn,
Done but it’s not over, over, over, over,

Over, over, over, over,
Cringing at the angle of the rip in her heart,
Dancing around the edges, torn all apart,

On and off, lights of her mind,
Crackling with fire, the fire that went dark,

Dangling by a thread, all worn down, split into pieces,

Ought to stop now…
Can’t do it just yet,
Done – almost there – stopping – can’t – getting there – tiring bones out

Abusive

Texting sweet nothings and whispering in your ear,
The spirit of abuse lingers in your hair.
Holding your hand and luring you towards her,
Relaxing your body like a professional seducer.

Slapping your arm like she heard a funny joke,
Tickling your neck until you finally choke.
Grabbing your hand with the force of love,
Bruising your ego as if your body wasn’t enough.

Wishing you the best with your next hard test,
She gives you luck in scars, scabs and the rest.
Water spills down as when you make a mistake,
More than your clothes are burned at the stake.

New year, new her, kinder and softer,
Twisting you around her tiny little finger.
Kissing your face, never been sweeter,
Grabbing your legs, pulling you underneath her.

Up and down the rollercoaster you go,
Clinging along for the ride although
You know you must leave her.

2015 in review

Started in August 2015. It’s been nothing but awesome. Looking forward to the future, and thank you to every one of you. ♥

“The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.”

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,300 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 38 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

(I will try to post more often this year, but I’ll be super busy next semester. ಠ_ಠ And sorry for this late post update.)

Freedom

How is it that we can contradict so easily and hardly explain?

Your presence is a need and want but neither is because of the terrors you cause at night when my mind catches up with my heart.

As much as it wants to run away from the realities behind the emotions, it can’t control the waves of uncertainty and darkness taking over its too long denied fragility. What will become of me

when you take it all away?

So easy for you to forbid and ban and deny, but it isn’t that way for me when there are so many roadblocks placed in my life. So I lay low and crawl towards my goals instead of sprinting ahead towards the long craved sunrise.

Your blockade of my light won’t hold back my life, only slow it down, so what’s the point?

Pushing me to my breaking point is cruel and coming back with a hug and an apology won’t give me back my time, rewind my mind that already has lengthy songs of pain on replay,

I think sometimes of relaying these thoughts to you, running them through your head with a wire, reinforce the idea with a screw, but what use will it be when the wires are cut by you, all the effort thrown away, screwed.

I wish I could get through, shine the light that is truth, free myself of the burden, the contradictory thought that is you–

Prompted Ramble #4

In the blackness, all she could do was grope at the air with her small fingers and hope to grasp something solid, something real. Jaynee, scared and disoriented, stumbled around in a clumsy dance, wanting the nightmare to end. Still out of breath from what seemed like an endless period of sprinting in nothingness, she desperately willed her eyes to see and adjust, but there was nothing for them to adjust for because there was nothing to see. Still, she could not, or would not, call out for help in this silence, whether her voice was suppressed by stubbornness or denial of fear.

But suppression could only hold her voice back for so long before it escaped in a high pitched scream as finally she felt some solid, something real–something sharp. It pierced her hip as her vocals sliced the air, shredding the night and the nightmare.

She woke up.

Her fingertips found her hip and ran over the thin scars from her childhood that healed haphazardly, feeling their chaotic pattern and smoothness as unreal as that night. She sighed, rolled over and banged into the tree she forgot she was next to. With an annoyed grunt the weary girl stood up on her athletic legs, brushing off the dried grass. Stretching, she observed the setting sun, painting the sky dull yellow and bright orange, reflecting the color of her own disheveled hair. She remembered what she had first set out to do–hunt down a certain man as she was ordered–and what she ended up doing–sleeping. Sleep was something she lacked because of the places she went during her unconsciousness. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, but she could function just as well without it. Well, mostly.

Scratching her head, she looked around, no man here. Time to go back. Sticking her hands in the pockets of her loose-fitting camo pants, she thought up a few explanations as she trudged slowly back to the HQ and yawned again, knowing that it wouldn’t really matter if she took it easy for a few days and enjoyed the world a bit. It’s not like she was short on headcount. On the contrary, she was far ahead.


The “Prompted Ramble” posts: 5-10 minute freewrites (with approximately 5 minutes of minor editing) prompted by the first sentence, in bold. (They force me to write something fun besides poetry more often.) This one is actually longer than 10 minutes…