Over the hill life is a place far from here, Where there is no sadness and darkness within. Over the hill is a magical place, With nymphs and fairies All and divine. Over the hill beauty is apparent. Big brilliant sky’s, And meadows of green. Flowers in bloom And ones in between. Big trees And rivers that flow, Right between the bushes and forests. Over the hill there is solitude. No filth and no corruption. Over the hill is a place only you can go. A place filled with fantasies. A place out of a book. Over the hill is what everyone desires. Where we want to go, Where we want to be. Over the hill is the unspoken dream. It’s where people can be, And nothing will leave you. Over the hill is a place we long, Late at nights and throughout the day because, Over the hill is where home is. Over the hill is home.
Find me down the garden path, By boiling sand, Where there is not a hair Of loss or despair.
Find me by the blossoms With tulips so bright Like fireflies, Filling up the night.
Bring me your secrets And I’ll keep them safe. No one will know, But me and this place.
The wind won’t whisper it, Not even a breath, Because In the garden path, My heart lives in fire.
Singing songs of dire dreams. Filling in between, The emptiness we all feel, For trying to be seen.
So find comfort in my space, In my sand and flowers. Show me all your love and all your pain. Give me whatever you heart desires.
For I’ll relieve you of the weight, Of the confessions you forgot to make. I’ll take the scars away. And in there wake, Leave you something to keep.
So find me in the garden path, My sands burning bright. I’ll take away your burdens, And send you into light.
If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm. Fulfillment runs like streams, With the hope of any dream.
The wind whispers things, The even I know cannot be seen. But if I didn’t know any better I would say Even the puddles have no secrets what am I If not okay.
Thunder booms the beginning of a bloom, Full of ice and flowers.
Lighting shining, Creating dashes that are blinding. With the hope of something new.
Because who would I be if I was not a storm. Storm with raindrops full of my wishes. I would be nothing at all but a tear drop. Bitter and sweet.
I stretch in the grass, My hands lay flat, Flowers smell like sweet perfume, And even the wind blows away my fume.
My fingers stretch apart, They slide without fault upon the grass, Curling up and falling down. My arms curve above my head Like a I’m holding up the land.
My legs stretch down, And my neck curves around, Around at the sky and Around as I lie.
The land stretches on farther than I can see, Farther than I can imagine. My heart flutters, As I think once again, Of stretching out in the grass.
Wind through the woods, Empty and full as I breath, In and out creating a breeze. I feel empty and giddy, And full and weighted. But with every light that goes out, Darkness hisses and wells, But does not overcome. My thoughts spread but my feet don’t fled. My fear and bravery are one, That is who I become. That is what it is. Wind through the woods is my hope. My love and my losses. It is my feeling and emotion. Because to me, I feel free, When there is wind through the woods.
Tall grass wavers As I pave the way through a long long field On a bike. Wildflowers smell, Of rain and grass. Down a hill to a stream, That comes from a small waterfall. Trees grow their long limbs, And stretch out like reaching arms. Metal overrun my grass is rusted and Warn out. Logs and leaves litter the ground, As I scramble back up the hill. Again I ride, back the way I came, But this time, it’s cut short through a stream. A short cut. Down the hill I climb, Across logs I look, To find a place to cross. I find a piece of metal. Sturdy though it looks, It folds under my weight. In the water I slosh to cross the bigger stream. Then I climb a hill full of dew and weeds. Grass gets caught on the bike, As I pull with my might, To get the bike to the top. Sweat rolls down my face and neck. It streams down my shirt, As the sun shines down. Finally I see, Through the grass and the weeds, A sidewalk, That I take back home.
My Mary janes click on the cement as I walk through a misty path. The mist smells good. It smells fresh and like rain. The big abandoned house sits tall. A light flickers in one of the windows. I open the door and it creaks loudly. The floor creaks to as I set my foot on it. Creaking steps come from upstairs. Slowly I walk up the stairs and into the room where the candle was. There is a woosh and then the candle goes out. He must be here. I walk into the bathroom. Flowers of different kinds rest in the sink. The bath is filled to the brim with hot steaming water. More flowers float on the top. The candles in and around the bathroom suddenly light. Then Beethoven’s “Für Elise” plays on the grand piano down the hall. I take of my shoes and socks and jewelry. Then I slide off my dress. I dip my feet into the water one at a time. It’s hot. I slide all the way in. Then I dip my head under the piping hot water. It feels good. I get my whole head wet and then come back up and sit with my back against the tub. My face has water and a little bit of sweat form the heat on it. I get comfortable. Down the hall the music stops playing. The floor creaks coming down the hall. Then I feel a cold hand on my face. It lingers on my cheek and then tucks a piece of my dark black wet hair behind my ear. My breath catches in my throat and my heart starts to beat faster. I stare to the side of me, seeing nothing. I feel him leave. He goes back down the hall and continues to play more music. After about an hour I get out of the tub and into the towel sitting by the sink waiting for me. I open the door and walk down the hall to the room with a light in it. In the room is a big bed. The head of it in front of a window. It’s a four poster bed with a dark blue comforter and black sheets. It’s looks very comfortable. There is a big dresser lining the right wall and a wardrobe on the left. A carpet lays in front of the bed. On either side of the bed are candles. Some are on holders, others are on the floor or on a nightstand. Candles also line the walls in holders. The wooden floor creaks as I walk to the bed. On it is a brown dress, ruby earring, and a matching necklace. I put them on and my white socks and Mary Janes. When I’m done changing the door creaks open. I walk down the stairs and enter the dining room. It’s candle lit. A chandelier with more candles sits above a long brown table. Chairs sits on the sides and heads of the table. On the table is lots of food. I sit at the head of the table where there’s a chair pulled out. As soon as I sit down he pushes my chair in and sits ahead of me at the other head. I start to eat and drink from a already filled wine glass. The food is delightful and soon I’m full. As soon as I’m done I feel someone standing behind me. He takes my hand and walks me back upstairs. On the bed rest a white night gown. The door closes and I change into it. I slide into the bed under the covers and it’s warm. Some of the candles go out whilst others stay on making a dim and dark lighting that makes me tired. I feel someone sit on top of the bed next to me, though no one looks to be there. He puts his hand on my cheeks again. It slides to the middle of my face until he has his thumb on my bottom lip. My heart flutters in my chest and my stomach is filled with butterflies. I move slightly and just like that his hand is gone. I feel him back away. Then he comes closer again and cups my cheeks in both hands slowly. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He kisses me slowly on my neck, cheek, forehead, nose, and then my lips. He doesn’t leave my side once as I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
the memories of longing reached for her under a cloudless sky a sky she now chased but was once a guy a guy who didn’t miss her who didn’t cherish her a guy who could never love her the way she loved him but now that was over the pain started to wane into only a memory far away and hard to reach but sometimes she still felt the longing for the chase for the pain, love, and heartbreak of loving someone who doesn’t love you back
December 20, 1992
Dear friend, I know I haven’t written to you a while because I have been trying to participate more. I’ve met more friends and have been trying to be as social as I can. Last night two of my new friends came over for dinner. My mom cooked and we all sat around the dinner table. After we ate we watched a movie. Even though she had been gone for a while, it still feels different to not have my sister around. She’s coming down for Christmas tomorrow as well as Sam and Patrick. I’m planning on staying at Bob’s Christmas night with everyone back together. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them all and I’m excited. I usually go to my family’s house but this time I decided to stay. I also picked out two gifts for my mom to give to her on my birthday. I know it isn’t much but I’m in a rush so it’s all I have time to write. I hope your well and I’m planning on writing more this week.
Love always,
Charlie