The grass sways as if almost dancing melodically. The straw like grass extends for what feels like miles and miles.
I want to get out.
I need to run.
But I can’t move my legs. I start swinging my arms back and forth to try and gather up some momentum. Just as I feel my toes wiggling again, my arms stop. By my side.
I- I can’t feel anything from the neck down. My body is alone and stuck. Stuck with the grass that moves. The grass that sways. Back and forth.
Back and forth.
I go to yell. Birds squawk in the distance.
The grass. The birds. They’re free. They’re moving.
Why can’t I?
I scream again, but a ghoulish black hand covers my dry lips.
Gasp.
He’s found me.
Stacy.
Her long, blond platinum hair Sways in the wind That is only created for her.
Her hips- small in size of course Dance side to side as if she knows Victoria’s Secret.
But the most dangerous thing about her Is her lips. That pink plushed area of skin Holds so much power.
Kissing every boy in the tristate area And Spilling gossip on every girl like it’s Hot tea: Fun to serve and Delicious to sip
But in the end, it burns them.
Stacy.
The girl you wanna be. But you can’t.
She’s the sun we puny planets revolve around. She’s the lion us meak prey must obey. She’s the poison we must inject ourselves with in order to survive.
Otherwise you’ll end up like Dani.
She didn’t listen. She didn’t obey. And now she’s socially and emotionally ruined
Cast down to a meteorite that burned In the sun’s hot rays.
Dani was a lesson. A lesson for the rest of us To listen. And obey. And play along to whatever game she wants to play.
Cause she’s Stacy. A poison so profound Once infected, or rather, injected, She controls you.
Like I said before, We’re all just puny planets living in the Universe That our great Stacy Created.
“I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t say it now.”
Mateo’s eyes are green, with specks of brown. I never noticed that before. He continues.
“You know what, never mind sorry- this was stupid-“
“It’s not stupid.” I say. My heart beats faster. Weird. I’ve told this little fun fact about myself to random people all the time and never once has my body acted like this before.
“I have something to admit too. I can’t swim.”
Look at him being nice. I can tell he’s holding back that laugh I want to hear so much.
“What? Don’t you live on a boat?”
“Yup. Embarrassing, right?”
We turn the corner and see a community pool across the street. Kids splash water to each other, their laughter fills the air. Mateo notices and begins to smile.
“I bet you don’t have any swimming trunks in your backpack, do you?”
“Uh…no?”
“But you are wearing underwear?”
“Course-“
He grabs my hand and we fly through the street towards the pool, almost getting hit by a car on our way there.
My goals In life Are just out of reach
I apply Apply Apply
To my own freedom land
But they reject me Not once Or twice
Multiple times.
It aches my heart. I want it so bad I don’t understand Why another says no To me
Giving them the power of striping away my Dream. What will my mother say? Or father?
I am a failure. Dead flowers grow around me.
The sun, always blocked by clouds And the birds sing songs Unpleasant and vile
“I am failure,” They whisper in my ears.
This cruel message Repeats in my brain like a Broken record
Writing.
Imagining the words on the paper Isn’t enough to establish this hobby
I hate it. I love it I want to tear myself away from it. Truthfully I don’t even want to be writing this silly little poem right now.
But I have to.
Because deep down In my core, Much like the Earth’s right now, I have a fire. A maddening heat; A maddening passion. To complete Every word Every sentence Every story.
But
My soul feels frozen- stuck in a tremulous block of icy blue ice. Bored out of my mind. I don’t even care that I’m not fulfilling any poem regulations. Tell the cops of literature, I’m ready to ruin my wobbly reputation.
Lock me up- see if I care! I’m done I’m done. I’m done!
And forever done with the art of
Writing.
Oh! How the flowers bloom When I tend to them So carefully like a Mama Kitty to her kin
The roses. My favourite! Red as the juicy blood apples That grow at the East End of my garden I like to keep their pointy thorns As sharp as my shovels.
The dirt. Oh! The dirt! I give them everything they need To flourish in the uneven weather patterns After all, They need to be well looked after For all the murky bones I hide underneath them
Ah! My favourite part. Digging. Dig, dig, digging.
It’s a relaxing feat under the stressful Reprochassions that life likes to throw at me.
Dig, Dig, Digging.
Today, the roses are flouring nicely. As red as the blood in my hands. Their thorns as sharp as my knife I clutch tightly upon.
“Bye bye bones!” I say with a cheeky smile.
Oh! How I love gardening.
Her week lungs inhaled the poisonous air like balloons being blown up for a funeral. Her dusty brown hair quickly became straw-like in the intense explosion. Her once paper white teeth, now black and broken like the ebony ashes that lay quietly on the hot, burnt ground. Every brittle bone in her body that once was strong enough to care for the children of the village, now was too weak to go against gravity.
There was nothing left.
The houses gone. The people dried up. And worse of all, the hope that once existed within many, now vanished, like everything.
My mouth spills water My eyes lift up To the very thing that seems to be calling me “Now!” I say “No.” They yell back.
I feel my juices boiling in my tiny stomach. Yearning for that sweet delight. I feel my nimble arms reach as high as they can go But they fail to reach the candy’s height.
Oh, woe! What should I do? I want it now! Now now now!
Lost. Like the sun without the moon, And the moon without the stars.
I would be nothing. Nothin’ nothin’ nothin’ But liquid splatered all over the floor Not knowing which direction to go Because you are my bones That make me human
Without you I wouldn’t be Be nothing of value for you see You and I Make up the earth and the sky Living in harmony
Yes, sometimes the earth and sky fight in thunderstorms and hurricanes Like us And like them We always end up in rainbows Happy happy rainbows
For you see At the end of the day If I didn’t have you I wouldn’t know which shoe to put on which foot
The two feet you made me For walking great lengths together
Golly gee, This poem was supposed to be About my life without you
It seems I can’t even fathom a poem Without writing you into the narrative
It’s time to end this poem. Let’s go two by two Into the sun, hand in hand Ready for the next chapter of our dainty, little lives.
C’mon, it’s time to go now Mum.