Dancing in the woods
The girls raced barefoot throughout the forest. their shrieks of delight a delicate chorus. constantly laughing, their voices carried on the backs of fairies. Their faces red and sticky from the wild strawberries The older ones smile and steady steps shook the strongest of wills, causing them to follow her graceful dance and thrills The younger ones eyes glowed like a rain drop, full of the hunger for adventure that entranced even the brokenest of hearts. Their bodies moving as fast as a dart, just whispers in the shadows their sweet songs as soft as a rose, their clothes whipping in the wind their thoughts entangled with their ever growing grins And as their soft and yet proud steps carried them faster, they reached a green clearing nearby a bubbling Brooke sat their eyes widened at the sight of mud, excited to start smearing it on each other the older girl sat by the river and braided blades of grass, singing softly words of the past The younger girl, however took a different approach, she gathered all of her strength and fought monsters with a sword made of brass, constantly moving, never stepping back. The girls stayed in their palace of green, racing the breeze while their wild ways stream through the sky chasing their shadows and diving into ponds and laying out in the sun until they are dry Not one brushed head in sight And as hard as the world might try, No matter how old the girls got They never forgot their palace of green, running into the sunset at last, To be back again next spring To one day be back in those fields of wild flowers To one day be hugged by the warm rain showers once more But to be always chasing each others shadows, hair whipping in the wind, sisters constantly running down magical hills followed by the laughs of child hood
we may have lost the battle, but we have not lost the war
blood now splattered on the floor,
the cry of widows now adorned the streets
daughters without their fathers
sons without their chosen ones
soon you’ll see, love isn’t free
i see you there, on the field, of war
broken and bloody
my heart no longer soars
i no longer can keep score
the enemy is coming
but you have left me, kneeling on the field
my love in pieces
around your lonely body no longer
breathing
my love, i thought we could’ve had, 1000 years, but now i see it was cut short
please darling, i feel alone
i once believed we could face no end, but i see now, the truth now
the fight is done
the war is won
our flags are held, and yet
not all warriors came home that night
lost in battle
all gone
you once told me
your heart was mine
, it’s gone, buried deep
6 feet
the dust collects and still i’m not free
they saw time heals all wounds,
but not this one
years have passed
and still i weep on days that remind me of you
my friends have come and gone as one, except now i think i’ll never move on
take care my dear
my attention is captured
by a lonely face amongst the crowd of the crying people
who have lost the one
and won’t move on
i see them, and they see me
you are not gone
from my memory, or heart
but my love has expanded
i’ve married them
like you wanted me to
some days are hard but they’re they are
kneeling with me
missing their own, but we hold fast
no longer alone
so now more years have come and gone, and the dust has settled,
my wounds are heals
both of the body and heart
i have no more scars
the children and ask of tales
of glory and pain and i tell them
of our sweet tale
how short it was
but the one i now love holds me and i hold him
we both sing songs
of grand disasters
together, i see pain
it flees
Myra
she has a heart made of gold a spirit whose stories are always being told dependent on the extraordinary different from what is customary she feels emotion stronger than the rest of us whose love reaches the most undeserving of us her eyes hold riches the world has ever seen her power strong, just like a mighty queen and her laughter, a medicine to the soul her smile is contagious, something you want hold her soft beauty with the way of her dance makes the entire world stop to watch and see her unfold if you ever try to catch her, ever try to tame her it will all be in vain, because there is no shaking someone who dances in the rain all her peacemaking her voice heartbreaking if you tell her you think your breaking she’ll hold all your pieces together and won’t let the blood spill she’ll pick you up up off the floor and hold you until all the pain is nothing but lore for another story her unique mind isn’t even in question she moves with her own destination her own path her own distinctive perspective of all her eyes lay upon you see a damaged heart she sees a new light about to dawn you see an old worn out path to have a stroll myra sees the mystic path that leads to the castle of lovely souls but one thing she must know no matter how much she is there to catch us, there are people there to catch her because there is something special about myra maybe it’s the light in her eye or the glowing of her entire being or no matter what, she sees but whatever it is that makes myra the person that makes you have a sudden need to live life to the fullest and be there by her side, it’s probably because her heart is made of gold. pure untouchable gold.
my brother has been in love with a girl in his class named ruby since he laid eyes on her. he gives me accounts of all the things she does. how she flips her curly black locks, and how her eyes, deep and wonderful are so full of joy. he especially loves the way her chocolate brown skin glows in the sunlight . he says she has the most horrific laugh, but the most beautiful smile. that from the moment he saw her, with an oversized bright yellow backpack in the 1st grade and hair in two pig tails, that she was the prettiest girl as far as the eye can see. (besides mommy, of course, and he’ll probably yell at me for telling you he said that.) he said growing up with the ruby was the best thing that had ever happened to him. from seeing her flourish and glow was like watching the sun rise. but, he said that the moment he knew he was in love with her, was when the hiked into the forest together, on a specifically deadly drop off the side of a cliff. and ruby slipped. for a split second her face shifted from untainted joy, to impenetrable fear. fear so real, that he reached out, catching her just before she hit the rocky depths that should’ve been that girl’s demise. he said that the thought of losing her shook my baby brother right to his core, and he knew that his love was true. they shared their first kiss that night. he also said that she smelled of orange blossoms and of saltwater, and every time he stares into the sunlit ocean, he can only think of ruby. ruby, the girl made of gold. so i told this story at their wedding night, and to their 3 kids. in hopes that maybe one day, we can all find our ruby, someone who burns so bright, they set us aflame with their love as well.
violet’s eyes are sapphire blue. beatrice’s eyes are a heavenly hazel. silas’s eyes are a smokey blue. jane’s eyes are hazel like a lion. rowan’s eyes change from deep green to elegant blue rebecca’s eyes are a vulminous green. odette’s eyes are green like a field. but there is beauty in the dark like how jessie’s eyes are brown like amber. or how marcellus’s eyes resemble honey. or even how monroe’s eyes are black, like a pool of ink. respect for brown eyes.
I was staring my lover’s murderer. It was a battle of will power, and I was losing. There was an evil look in their eye, and that smile, so long and grotesque. I shivered. Their face was sharp and keen. So unbelievably smart to be able to evade the police for over 5 months. I wanted to scream. To take a step back, to run away, to call for help, but I just stood still. So unbelievably still. My limbs were frozen but that killer was loose. They were enjoying this. I blinked, once, twice, then straightened my shirt. I grinned back at the mirror. “The police should believe that,” I murmured, and left the house, with the door locked and a rotting smell drifting from the basement.
Lyn ran. Faster than she had ever ran in her entire life, and she kept going. She kept going when the roads turned into dirt paths, and the paths disappeared into grassy plains. Tears were streaming down her face, and she sobbed all the while she ran. Edyin’s dead. Those words echoed through her now empty heart, and Lyn recalled the time when she heard her baby sister laugh for the first time, that special glint in her crystal blue eyes that only appeared in the innocent and lovely. She cried and ran harder. Lyn turned a corner, momentarily blinded by her tear filled eyes and tripped on a jutting rock, so sharp it cut her ankle; the blood warm on her freezing skin. Lyn gnashed her teeth in pain. Not just the pain in her foot but the sharp pain in her soul. She got up quickly and ran onward. Fear flooded into her mind and the branches of barren trees cut her arms and face. Finally, she stopped, looked up to the sky and stopped. She let out a shriek of fury. No one would hold her and stroke her head. No one would pick her up and rub her cold hands. The gods only knew what Freyr was doing, probably picking a fight with Alistar about his dreadful family. Lyn gave out a forced laugh, touching the bruise on her brow that Master Slade had given her when she seethed at him and accused that snake for lying to her. She hissed, throwing her head back. She realized how similar the pink afternoon sunset resembled the faint flush on Edyin. That last thought cut Lyn off of her leash. She let go of all and any reason, not caring about wild dogs or cougars, or even Slade finding her . She just had to scream. A gut wrenching, heart breaking cry for help that the entire forest went silent for. Not a single bird song or insect buzz or a frog’s croak echoing in the distance. “I screwed up, leaving you, Edyin,” Lyn whispered, her voice breaking. “I- I was immature, and reckless, and wild, and maybe Ivan was right-” But Lyn stopped dead. The words of a desperate, depressed girl still left unused on her tongue. Her eyes caught hold of something dancing in the distance. Lyn wasn’t sure it was what she thought it was until it made it’s great and grand way towards her. A lightning storm. Freyr had said there was going to be a storm that night but she never thought it would be, well, this; and Lyn recalled a memory of her father pulling Lyn back from under the bed during a lightning storm.
Lights were flashing, the cottage was shaking and so was Lyn. She didn’t like the noise. Her father laughed and hauled Lyn onto his lap. “Now, now, my little ball of light, you should not be afraid of this storm!” Lyn looked up to her strong father. “Why not, it’s blinding and the thunder is loud,” tiny Lyn stated, her high voice shrill. “It’s simple, Lynnie,” her father said, wrapping her small body in his arms, “your beautiful name, Lyn, derives from the Norwegian word, lightning.” Lyn scoffed, “why would you name me something scary like that, papa?” He grinned down at her with his entrancing brown eyes, and an exact copy was staring cynically back up at him. “Well,” he continued, “throughout many generations our ancestors have worshipped lightning. It was said that if there was a lightning storm, good luck and fortune would soon follow,” he patted her golden hair and smiled at the window, “and that only the brave would prevail.” Lyn then followed her father’s stare towards the window. Pride swelled in her tiny chest as she jumped off her father’s lap toddeled towards the window and opened it. Rain blew in and the lightning crackled its greeting. Lyn gave the thunderous storm a broad smile. She noticed the bolted windows and doors on the other houses and instantly felt bad. “Who would want to miss this?” She asked, and her father shrugged. Lyn realized, she wasn’t scared anymore. Lyn was awoken from her memory by a bolt of lightning striking the hard ground in the north. She knew her father was telling her not to be afraid, and Edyin was saying to never stop being wild and beautiful. So Lyn got up, shook off the dirt, and marched off to change the world.
“Shut up, Bronwyn!” Rowan yelled, shoving his twin sister to the side. She laughed a laugh that made the devil himself shiver. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “If both of you don’t shut your mouths, I will drop you both in Whitetail River!” Rowan straightened his beige shirt that complimented his pale complexion, while Bronwyn quickly fixed her bleached blonde hair that rivaled the snow in whiteness. “All ready, Rain!” Bronwyn smiled, linking arms with me. My name isn’t really Rain, but when we were little there was another girl named Cadence, and since I loved dancing in the rain so much, that Bronwyn started to call me “Rain” and it has stuck ever since. Rowan’s eyes narrowed up ahead. “No way,” he murmured, and bolted ahead. “Rowan!” I yelled, and Bronwyn groaned. “I hate running,” she said, but still ran after her brother. I huffed in agitation, but followed the pale faced twins none the less.
When I finally caught up to Rowan and Bronwyn, I found the looking into a side of a hill. “What in the name of all things that are holy, are you doing?” I screeched, “we were supposed to go to Daffodil Valley , not a hump of rocks and dirt!” But they both ignored me, even Bronwyn was silent, Bronwyn who permanently had her foot in her mouth, said nothing. “Look,” Rowan whispered, pointing to the side of the hill. “There’s nothing-“ I started to say, but Rowan growled. Actually growled. “Look harder.” I narrowed my eyes, and looked around at the lush green trees before looking at the hill. Actually look at it, and for the first time I noticed something. A ripple. Then another. I took a step back. “What is this,” I whispered. Bronwyn finally looked at me, and she was grinning. I shivered. “I told you, Rowan!” Her light green eyes glowed. “She has the Sight!” I started to hyperventilate. “And I told YOU, this would happen!” Rowan seethed, and carefully walked towards me with his arms out. “Ok, Rain, listen carefully,” he said slowly. “Bronwyn and I,” he motioned to himself his sister before saying, “we’re Faeries.” And with that last word, the rippling stopped and my eyes were opened.
Instead of dirt and rocks, there was an archway made of moss covered stones. The placement was uneven, almost like a drunken gnome had made it. But somehow, it was magical. The arch opened up deeper into the hill, revealing a torch lit tunnel. My breathing hitched, and my vision started to go dark. Bronwyn yelped before catching my falling body. “Here ya go,” she said, brushing my curls out of my face. “I knew you two were different,” I smiled, before the darkness consumed me and I blacked out.
I see you so high above You don’t even notice, I want your love You can’t even seem to deem me worthy enough send me your soul We used to be inseparable now I’m afraid you’ve left me to be dull Forgive me for being stupid enough for thinking I held your heart Well, you still hold my heart Now is it so wrong, for your former lover to wish to hold your hand once more Or is it unacceptable? Is it another chore? You’ve left me feeling barren, what more can a girl do But rise up from the ground I fell upon, without you? Without your cold demeanor, I can make do Without your dismissive hand, What did I ever see in you? Ok, maybe it was your dreamy eyes Or possibly that you made me feel so brand new But I can do that to I have that to It is hard to let you go though To let go of your charming smile Of nights where we’d dance like we were into the 50’s style But then I remember the bad nights Where you’d come home with ruby red lipstick right on your cheek Or those awful fights that would never end alright I wanted to leave But you left first But not after a few curses were versed So there you left me, feeling dead on the floor But little did I there was so much more So we’re back to the part of my story where I rose Did I mention, that when he looked back, he’s the one that froze? He was in shock he noticed I wasn’t lying there where he left me It made me laugh, something I hadn’t done in years I could feel tears fall down my face And at last he disappeared without a trace And for the first time, I felt ready Alone, but steady And I finally remembered what freedom really meant
Born to run
I was born to run. To feel the wind in my hair and to smell like smoke. I was born to run. To feel my lungs and throat catch fire. To scream a raspy but proud victory cry. Oh, to whip through the world with only my bare feet and the piercing sky at my back. Yes, I do believe I was born to run. But when I slow down, when I start to feel the aches and pains that echoed through my body, that’s when I panic. I have out ran myself, and it makes my sides hurt. And for a second, I think about stopping. To groan to a halt and to walk slowly. Don’t tell anyone, but that scares me. So I imagine myself as a wild horse. A wild horse born to run. With a tangled mane and a strong and muscled body. I imagine my feet turn hooves stomping fiercely across the grassy plains. My breath ragged and my eyes crazed. But I am oh, so happy. And then, suddenly, I realized that I am bolting again. I’m running again. It’s a good thing too, because I was born to run.
