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Destiny - Chapter FourOver the next few months I started to explore my "gift" as I had taken to calling it. It was getting stronger, becoming overwhelming most of the time. I would walk into a room simply to be bombarded with other people's emotions; I didn't know which ones were mine and which ones weren't. I could control myself well enough that I never had a breakdown in front of anyone but Tempest, my little sister, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide. After several weeks of being on an emotional roller coaster, she finally suggested that we work together to help me control the emotions and try to block them out.
It wasn't an easy process in the least. During this exploration I began to research. I needed to know if this was an anomaly or not, and if not, I need to know how to contain it, how to act and why I even had it.
I devoured every resource I could on the old Celtic religions, the era in which the earth and nature was worshiped; where the Mother Goddess and the Horned One rule
Love in a Hopeless Place
As I sit on my couch with my beer and my shot of whiskey in front of me, the sounds of music thumping through my speakers and my blood, I start to think about the past. It's been a year, and it's hard to believe but it has been. I wish I could take all of my memories and filter them out and play them over again to the sounds of my song, just so you could see them. See what I went through, hear what I heard.
I see them all just flashing over and over: the day we first met, the smile and the hug I was greeted with. The smell of my cigarettes and the dirty city streets as we walked to the movie theater the bitter taste of the whiskey on my tongue and the burn as it slid down my throat.
You found me in a bad time, the stress, the drinking, the drugs, the cutting even the abusive boyfriend. I had all the marks of a girl spiraling out of control. I wish I could put my memories into words just for once, to let someone else see it from my eyes: the times we drove around at 1 in
Destiny - Chapter ThreeThe fire flickered and sputtered in the fireplace. It was Thanksgiving and I was trying my hardest not to go crazy. The church had rented a hall for the meal and there were people everywhere. I still did not have a very good grip on controlling my gift and all the thoughts flowing around me were giving me a migraine. It was difficult sifting through all the thoughts swirling around. But when I was by the fire, it almost deadened the sense a little bit.
I looked up when I "heard" a thought from a person I knew well. Why hasn't he answered yet? Oh god, I hope nothing happened.... My sister was pacing nearby. She sighed and walked over to me. She sat down next to me and ran a hand through her hair.
"He's fine." I told her, without moving my gaze from the fire.
She visibly started. "W-who?"
"Jake." I responded, referring to her 'secret' boyfriend. Neither of us were technically supposed to date. She was going through some special classes at church. And I was still in high-school. Ap
Destiny - Chapter TwoMy life wasn't particularly charmed; I was a regular baby, and then an average child. My baby sister was born when I was two and I didn't understand the fuss and hubbub about her. She cried and screamed and slept and that was about it. Rather boring. In fact my cat was more interesting than she was.
My story starts with my eleventh birthday, actually the story starts long before then, but for it mainly started once I hit puberty. Up until then I had been carefree, the only distress in my world being whether or not I could get my math homework completed and still have time to play outside. It was then that the nightmares started. Oh I had always had bad dreams for as long as I could remember, only now, instead of being chased by dinosaurs and drowning in huge vats of chocolate, I was being chased by skeletons and rotten corpses, drowning in seas of blood and seeing my family and friends killed while I watched, unable to close my eyes. I dealt with these dreams by myself, even now, fifte
Destiny - Chapter OneI wasn't supposed to be alive. They called me the Miracle Child. Born more than a month before I was supposed to, I didn't even have lungs that worked. My heart? It had a hole in it. My own mother wasn't even able to hold me after I was born. As soon as I was born, the only arms I felt were those of doctors.
I never knew why I didn't die then. More than that, besides the occasional sickness that almost every child suffered, I was incredibly healthy.
For as long as I could remember, there was a painting that hung over the doorway to my room in my family's small apartment. A picture of three angels. My mother said that they reminded me of her and my older sister and my younger brother. I didn't know about all that. What I knew was that those nights that even as a young child that I couldn't sleep for whatever reason, I was able to find elusive sleep as I looked at that painting.
As a child, I had a vivid imagination. My imagination that had me writing stories in my notebook when I was su
Destiny - Prologue"She wasn't supposed to live!" came the hissed, angry voice from the shadows.
"No, she wasn't. But what is done is done. There was no reason for her death. He did what he saw fit in the time of difficulty."
"There was a reason you ignorant fool! There is always a reason. Her death was for the strength and trial of the eldest. It would have made her into a formidable opponent, changed the future of this world and theirs for good! It was ordained."
"This too was written in the stars. Her life and that of her sister has been etched in the stars since the beginning of time itself. Her life will strengthen the eldest and the destiny of the eldest will form the life and strength of the younger."
"SILENCE!" came a firm voice from the edge of the forest. "Silence, both of you. There is a reason behind everything. The destiny of these two was changed the second the child took breath. She was not supposed to but she has, and thus it has changed the future. They
kissMake a wish on a kiss and blow it to the wind
Hope it finds the one in mind and brightly shines
With the deep love with which it was given.
Fragile Memories - ProlougeIt was black as pitch that night as I lay down to sleep. The only sounds in the house were that of the heater and the steady slow beating of my heart. I lay beneath my blankets in a cozy cocoon of blissful warmth and closed my tired eyes. As I drifted off to sleep, I dreamt. Very much in the manner of Alice down the rabbit hole. A dream, but yet a vague, cloudy memory of the past within the dream. And as I fell further down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, my memory returned to me....
I opened my eyes to the world around me, a world so familiar yet so foreign to me at the same time. The trees were large and ancient, gnarled in their wisdom and the length of their memories. silken images fluttered before my eyes in the forms of gauzy butterflies and glistening spiders webs, shiny with the smallest of dew drops clinging to their delicate strands. The wind whispered playfully through the fern fronds and stirred up the leaves of the highest of the tree tops.The sun filtered quietly
Bridge ClosedIn the city of spires
thrust upward through the body of cloud
a piercing spike of adrenalin,
as the wind fondly ruffles her hair,
doesn't stop her from jumping up.
Reaching to be seen or saved,
by a city that blinks and misses her -
a temporary peak on the skyline.
Doesn't stop her from slamming
into the steel slashes
of the trainline below.
Even the most beautiful places
to those blinded by the inside-out-agony
of breathing against their will.
The city of spires remember her
as the cause for a bridge closed
on a Sunday.
Poem for My 2nd Semester English Teacher(Short v.)You stapled these words to the page.
Like a modern day tyrant,
You denied them the little humanity
You trapped their souls into
And threw them to the curb,
I understand that certain things
Should be left Inhuman
But we even give hurricanes names.
You taught us to separate the person from the art,
But if the art is about that person, you can’t pull them apart
The SundancersThe sundancers crease the sky ephemerally
and stain the floor with their bravery, eternally.
FlamesThere are flames where
his head should be -
a poem left in the fireplace,
a dressing gown, a pipe,
forty pieces of silver.
This man promised you a winter
so warm and bountiful
spring would be ashamed.
He called you by name -
not the one that father knew
shoved under his bible.
But the one left behind
in the branches,
in the bucket of brambles,
and the columbines
buried at your feet.
Stones on the battlefield,
surrender in the grass.
What did his face
even look like behind the curtain,
counting those coins
and loosening the damp earth
from your shoes?
Did I Mention To You MarkiplierDid I mention to you Markiplier,
A man with so much love to share?
He's one of the few in this world
To take the time to show his care.
Did I mention to you my hero
Who helped me to lay down my knife?
He brought to light my joy inside
And reminded me the temporariness of strife.
Did I mention to you my saviour,
Who made me come to love me?
He blesses this world with all his work
In his constant support and charity.
Did I mention to you this humble man,
Who cares for the world deeply so?
He makes you laugh and makes you cry
Through the genuineness he shows.
It's hard to believe that this one man
Could inspire so many to chase their dreams
And prove to all who hear his words
That it may not be as difficult as it seems.
You call us your heros, your shining stars.
Thank you Mark for all you do.
It's people like me who want to prove
That the real hero is you.
FriendshipFriendship is a tapestry
Woven through the years
With threads of joy and laughter
Happiness and tears
It's a work of art so priceless
It's shared by a precious few
Yet so easily created
By a loving friend like you
on moving outI take my bookends. I take my whiteboard
and that crooked letter opener I use to pop the caps off
beers, I take my poems,
I take my brand-new never-used coffeemaker
and my decades-old over-used typewriter which weighs
about 6 babies. I take my pictures, and those letters
you wrote me;
I do not take you. I take the
PS2. and the broken lamp. and your
shirt. I take no shit.
but my own shit.]
I take a blanket,
my good underwear
and a deck of cards.
I take my cat.
I burn the rest.
to nurse doe (whom we all know) i watched her
blood orange heart
cleanse and suture
old bullet wounds and
new bouts of lilacs,
lime, and blue
her alcohol and aloe
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