Blue Flames

Blue flames burn bright. Brighter than the night as people watch me burn asking and spreading the word. They beg me to stop but no I’m too far gone.

This is your fault look at what you have done. Birthed a son made a weapon. You wanted strength now look what I’ve become. I’m the opposite of what you expected as strong as fast as good but on the other side.

A hero never means for a villain to rise. So a father should never teach his son that side. Yet here I am here we are. You’ve made your worst mistake so far.

I “could have done great” yeah I don’t believe that I was lost long before you left me. This pain. Your praise was all I ever searched for but when you took it away when he came. 

I don’t hate my brother nor my sister nor my mother. But you oh “father” of mine, I won’t even lie by saying its “fine” no. you broke me first so be ready when the flames burn around you and you wonder where you went wrong remember the son you threw aside. Remember the son who wanted to be who YOU wanted him to be.

Now here I am here we are. Living near and living far. Same family by blood, that I hate to say. But you left me anyway so I don’t have to say “yeah he’s my dad” no cuz that boat sailed long ago I”m not going back. Never goin home!

So I walk these lonely streets at night my blue flames the only light people flee if they so much as see me heroes try but they can’t reprimand me I ain’t goin with the ones who hurt me ain’t goin to the one that birthed me. No!

Flames they burn burn burn. And they hurt hurt hurt. You’ll have to answer to me in the end!…to me in the end…

Waiting for spring

I step out into the dreary and cold winter morning with a shiver. The cold air greets me with a slap in the face. With snow crunching underfoot, I make my way to the bus stop. It’s late, as always. After about 20 minutes of just standing there, the bus finally pulls to a screeching halt at my stop. As we make our way to the school, faster than normal to avoid being late, our bus hits an ice patch. We spin sideways, and the kids around me make exaggerated gasps and screams as we slide into a deep ditch. “No one move, we’re stuck,” my bus driver says. Naturally, nobody listens, and chaos ensues. 

After much yelling from the bus driver and time wasted, the kids calmed down somewhat. The driver tries backing the bus up, to no avail. I sigh, wishing it were spring. None of this would have happened if it were spring. It would be sunny and warm, and all the ice would melt. The flowers would bloom into bright blossoms, vibrant colors will replace the dull white snow, and no buses will get stuck in ditches. (Or at least it’ll be less likely.) After many unsuccessful attempts at backing out of the ditch, we finally succeeded. As we make our slow way to the school, I have an epiphany; it is NOT spring, it’s monotonous, gloomy, frigid, sunless, and extensive winter. I just have to wait three more miserable months.

Blurry Blizards

Burnout

She, only nine, hugs her pillow and cries

A lost mind, brain racing with thoughts,

She thinks she’s too wise

To follow her dreams, to see what she’s caught  

Now twelve, a monster inside herself,

She reaches out for help

Yet no one answers…

An adult, closed off and locked in,

She lets no one in

She hoped for moreEven when no more came… 

Spooky Story

The leaves are falling off the trees, they crunch under Brook’s feet. Her backpack lugged over her shoulder and bounced off her back. The night before Halloween was truthfully better than Halloween itself.

“Ready for tonight?” Brook’s older sister Harper said.

“Im scared but excited.” Brook said.

“Are you going with anyone?” Harper questioned.

“Eww can we not talk about this right now. Let’s talk about the weather today and NOT my social life.” Brook panicked. 

“Okay, but I heard that Liam Garcia likes you.” Harper nudged Brook’s shoulder.

“Whatever.” Brook sighed.

“We’re home!” Harper yelled.

“Hi girls, how was school?” Their dad said.

“Good” Brook shrugged as she hugged her dad. 

“It was so good dad, so I found out that Khole text Ali and Ali text Noah S and he texted me to tell me that…” Brook plugged her ears and walked up the stairs to her room.

She opened the door to her closet and found her mom standing there hanging up her dress, “Oh, hi Brook.” Brook’s mom said in her super happy and sweet voice.

“Hi mom.” Brook said as she flopped on her bed. She sat up and started to curl her hair. 

“Have fun girls.” Brook’s dad yelled out the car window.

They walked in and danced their buts off. Before they knew it, the dance ended and Brook was off to her friend Sophie’s house.

“Hey Brook,I’m so excited for a sleepover! Sophie squealed. They headed up the stairs into Sophie’s room.

“So Luna and Charlotte are on their way but for now we can get the bunk beds ready!” Sophie said, gathering the sleeping bags.

“Ya I can grab the snacks and you can get the pillows and blankets.” Brook exclaimed.

The girls were then laughing and talking about their night at the dance.

“I’m going to go down and make some popcorn ok?” Charlotte sat up and made her way to the door. 

The rest of the girls stayed in the bunk room waiting. After ten minutes went by, Luna and Brook went down to the kitchen to check on Charlotte.

The floorboards on the stairs creaked as they walked down.

 It smelled like burnt popcorn and there was popcorn everywhere on the counter and the floor.

Luna made her way around the corner of the island, to pick up the popcorn.

“Charlotte?!” Luna gasped. Brook turned the corner and saw Charlotte’s dead body.

 Spiralled out on the tile floor with not a single drop of blood in sight.

“Good job Charlotte, Sophie you can come out now and stop filming.” Brook said, clapping her hands.

Just then a black figure floated past the window grabbing Brook’s attention.

“Sophie!”

A bloody scream filled the house.

Brook and Luna rushed up the stairs, tripping over one another to save Sophie.

The door was slammed shut, they had to pry it open to get in. Once they opened it, they felt a breeze. There was nobody in the room. 

Empty.

The window was open.Then suddenly it slammed shut and the curtains closed.

All that remained was Sophie’s favorite friendship bracelet.

To this day nobody knows what happened that night of October 30th.

Poem

Where the cries are heard. And the lies are told. Where the blood runs stale. And people hail those who are wrong.

Where the wind blows through the meadows telling of sorrows off to the east. Where people die and widows cry, that is where these tales begin.

Where those who are wrong rule over the lands. Where those who are cruel have power over those who are good. Where the cries can be heard from the mountains untold. From high ground or from the low.

Where refugees live underground scavenging and making due. Where people suffer and cry for help. Yet no one is heard through. No one is heard though these cries through the tears. The blood on the ground unseen by most

But those who care for those who see. The evils of the world. Those are the ones to run to. The ones who can be trusted. The ones who for once. The ones who for last. Can bring peace to this broken land.

This cursed land. The land of blood and tears.

The arc of a life

Season Ballad

The springtime brings the sprouts and sun,
Making the roses bloom,
Spring likes to be inconsistent,
Rain pouring with volume.

The summer sun melts sidewalks bare,
With pools and ice cream near,
Pretty flowers fill the gardens,
A picture, painted clear.

Then autumn leaves turn warm with fire,
They drift in gentle dance,
The nights grow cool, the air grows still,
The view will put you in a trance.

The winter snow leaves burning cold,
While children race on sleds,
The twinkling lights adorn the sky,
Till sleep calls us to beds.