Short stories & poems

He will give me death, and I will love him for it. Killing parts of me , but never me entirely. Loving him for all he was, never got me anywhere. Always watching myself shatter, wither away. But it’s okay, because I know I loved with all of me. Theres something to say about being cocky because you know what you bring to the table, yet insecure because no one ever endured with you or saw anything through. All the lines are blurred now, but I always know my place. Never chosen, always subjected to some form of abuse: physical, mental, emotional. Do you even know what I’ve been through since you? Because of you? Because of me too. I can’t blame you for everything, not on things where I have the final say. Like who I let lay next to me since you left, and the things that occurred because of it. Being choked and hit so hard I lost consciousness… But I’m grown, and not everyone put in your life has good intentions…right? But mine were always pure. At least I can own that. No one ever weathers the storm, and I have always only been shown that. Why should you have been any different? Telling me I deserved more, deserved better. But it was just a cop out because you didn’t want to better your self for me. For us. For what we could be. I come with too much baggage I guess. But everyone has things the carry forever with them. It’s all about choice and choices and you chose to go on with out me. Showing me I never truly meant anything. You can say pretty words but actions honey, they’re everything.

Malory trudged a few paces behind her family. The cold wet gravel path pierced through her leather soles and pricked her feet like a dozen pins and needles.

It wasn’t a long walk from the summer house to the beach, but it wasn’t an easy one to traverse wearing a full bustled dress.

“Come along Malory!” Her mother calls as she too struggles in the heat.

The family make their way down a steep slope to the beach, Malory reaches the top as they reach the bottom, but as she’s about to take her first steps down she feels something sharp pierce her back.

She turns her head to look behind her and gasps when she sees the cold empty face of her cousin Richard. She looks over her shoulder to see the knife he’s wielding pressed against her back.

He pushes her forward, each step she hesitates leads to a threat with the knife. Her corset feels like it’s tightening with every step, but she smiles as if nothing is wrong.

When she gets to the bottom of the slope, her family are already in the beach hut changing into their bathing suits. Richard pushes her forward towards the sea.

“What are you …”

“Shut up!” Richard growls as he continues pushing her out into the water.

The waves crash against her ankles as the hem of her dress begins to feel heavier with the weight of the water it’s soaking up.

Malory closes her eyes tight hoping for her family to come save her, but changing is no quick job and the waves can easily swallow a woman in an instant.

When they’re finally changed the family step out onto the sand and look around with a smile, they don’t see Malory anywhere, but they do see Richard smiling and waving them over to him.

“Dicky?” Lady Hart proclaims as her husband steps out in front of her with his hand held out to put space between her and his nephew.

“Pleasant day isn’t it Uncle?” Richard says cheerfully as he steps closer.

“Father what’s going on?” Young Thomas asks poking his head out from behind his mother.

“What are you doing here?” Lord Hart demands in a stern but gentle manner so as not to upset the children.

“It’s just such a lovely day” Richard proclaims slowly edging his way closer as Lord Hart steps back as his family follow his lead.

“And I didn’t want to spend it alone in my cell, so I’ve come to visit my family.”

Lady Hart looks around for Malory, but realises she is nowhere to be seen.

“Malory!” She gasps as Lord Hart snaps his head towards her.

Richard laughs as he steps slightly to the side revealing Malory face down in the water, a flow of red surrounds her.

Richard looks back and realises they’ve noticed her and his smile quickly turns into a scowl before he lunges forward.

Lord Hart blocks his path with his body and the knife goes straight through his chest. Lady Hart grabs her two children and pulls them towards the slope, but stops when she feels the sharp sting of death between her shoulders.

Her hands let go of the twins hands and they scurry up the slope towards their house. Richard stands still for a moment as Lady Hart falls to the ground with a thump and smiles to himself. “Five, four, three, two, one. Ready or not here I come.” He whispers to himself as he takes a step closer to the slope. His bloody glistening in the sun.

“Edgar Bergen. Charlie McCarthy. Mortimer Snerd! I haven’t seen you boys in forever. How long has it been?”

“How long has it been since you opened this old trunk, you big dummy?” Charlie quipped.

“Since he left the circus, no doubt,” Edgar added.

“Hyuck, hyuck. When he was a clown,” Mortimer noted.

“Well, he was a better clown than he was a ventriliquist,” Charlie said.

“That goes without saying,” Edgar agreed.

“Well, nobody was as good as you Edgar,” Mortimer fawned.

“Well, thank you Mortimer.”

“As long as you didn’t care if his mouth moved,” chided Charlie.

“Hey! I resemble that remark.”

“Oh Edgar. You always did have thin skin.”

“Thin skin? Him? You were always the one with thin skin, you big dummy. Those kids laughed at you when you rode your unicycle and juggled. And you cried. But they were supposed to laugh at you. You were a clown, for Pete’s sake. And when you brought us into your act, everybody thought we were the dummies, but it was always you.” Charlie was as blunt as ever.

“I suppose.”

“Hyuck. You shoulda juggled the three of us instead of trying to throw your voice.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t that have been a treat. We coulda upchucked on you while you were doing it. Of course, it woulda been sawdust and wood chips.”

Edgar jumped in. “Hey now. Don’t be so tough on the kid. He was our meal ticket you know.”

“Meal ticket! Hah! He barely made enough to eat his own food. And he stuffed us with the leftover straw and sawdust from the ground. Who knows what it had in it.”

“Hyuck hyuck. That’s why I smell so bad. Elephant…”

“No. You smell so bad because that big dummy stuck us in that trunk so long,” Charlie said.

“Well, boys. It’s been fun. Although, I’m not sure I’ve heard Charlie in such fine form as today.”

Footsteps echoed in the attic.

“Hey, Dad. Whatcha doin’?”

The retired clown turned to face his boy. “Hi son.” He turned back to his old trunk where his son was gazing. “Just taking a trip down memory lane.”

The boy stepped forward and looked into the old trunk. “Whoa! You were a ventriliquist? That is so cool.”

“Not so cool when you watched his mouth move,” Charlie said.

“Wow! They move without you doing anything.”

The retired clown opened his hand, and showed his son the mechanism he had pulled out when he first opened the trunk. It had three sets of controls. “See, I can move their mouths with these buttons, their heads with these, their eyes with these, and so on and so on.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. “Can I try?”

The retired clown handed the mechanism to his son. “Be careful. You never know what they’re gonna say.”

The boy pressed the mouth button for Charlie.

“You can say that again.”

For Mortimer.

“You can say that again. Hyuck. Hyuck.”

For Edgar.

“Sigh. I was the puppet master way back when.”

“This is so cool.”

“Well, you’ve got your kid fooled, you big dummy”, Charlie said.

“He’s definitely not like your normal audience,” Edgar agreed.

“Hyuck. Hyuck. You got me fooled too. I always thought you were great. Hyuck.”

“Thank you Mortimer. You were always so kind.”

“Suck up is more like it.”

The retired clown sighed. “I think it’s time to say goodbye now fellas.”

“Hyuck. Goodbye now fellas.”

“Nooooo!”

“Sorry Charlie. Goodbye Edgar. Goodbye Mortimer.”

“I hope that it won’t be another decade or more before we see you again.”

“We’ll see, Edgar. We’ll see.”

The retired clown took the batteries out of the mechanism, put the mechanism into the trunk with the dummies, then closed the lid. He and his son walked toward the attic stairs. His son looked back.

“Do you hear that?”

The retired clown sighed. “Yeah. They always kick and scream when I put them away.”

GANSTER WITH A GOD COMPLEX

DEAD MAN WALKING

God still loves* ** ** _**The purpose of this is to know they flesh, then invite God into it and be able to love this person. This might not be based entirely on me but the person who is based on me admires, initially.

Song theme: NSG- trust Jason Treven is honest and sincere. He trusts people too quickly, but with intimacy built over time he can because of deed distrust within himself leave all of a sudden.

“All the riches is mine look…all me the car I got my moms. mine. Got these jewels badonning on me I’m wearing it ain’t wearing me, look these were a gift they ain’t depreciating in value it’s price just doubles, because I’m wearing it, you feel me, I’m wearing it it ain’t wearing me, that’s what happens when you build yourself to a brand when something gets pictured with the jewels bodon upper echerlaunt it gets recognised, understand what I’m talking about real life take a picture and you witness what I’ve just talked off in two minutes. This is what flies when your self made, lemme say that again in a fuller note so you can hear it clearly Imma self made nigga i own my life and don’t owe no mutha fuckin body, not a bank, not a bitch, not no poot butt bitch negro no where breathing this free fucking air”

Cut down the tree and cut off its branches; Shake off its leaves and scatter its fruit; Let the living creatures run from under it And the birds fly from its branches. “Let his mind and nature be changed from a man’s And let an animal’s mind and nature be given to him, And let seven periods of time pass over him. “This sentence is by the decree of the angelic watchers And the decision is a command of the holy ones, So that the living may know [without any doubt] That the Most High [God] rules over the kingdom of mankind And He bestows it on whomever He desires And sets over it the humblest and lowliest of men.” **_ Wakes up ****(In great fear) Shiiit… ok Well I say to you whatever the fuck you are. I’m the author of my own destiny, I determine this shit by what I write in this book. YEAH! haha. (Lights a cigar) YOU JUST TELL ME WHEN YOUR READY AND ILL BE RIGHT HERE. _You brought me here you come here face me like a man and take me out and I’ll be waiting for you. _ Plan- Smashes things in room Things go well for him starts to be convinced in his words contrary to the word spoken over him. Looking for his word to be right above the word spoken over him spiralling into why he’s right and king over his life Eventually waking to senses of accepting Gods love and honesty to him.

_**

The fractals first appear an hour after the strike, like the pristine edges of snowflakes stained into skin.

There was a storm. The thunder made the house shake.

Running down her arms like rivers, they branch out into smaller and smaller segments. Nature’s tattoos, the fossil of an electric charge.

The phone rung, quivering in its hook on the wall.

Lightning’s flowers, the nurse calls them. Lichtenburg scars. Beautiful red ferns with blister blooms that burn so brightly she forgets her own name.

Her sister said she would call at six thirty. She promised to answer.

Ruby_ _roots, painted across her shoulder. Cracks in the bubbling skin that feels like it might just melt all the way off.

She picked up the phone. Its cord jittered like static. __ Her eyes can barely focus, the scars’ stinging is so sharp. Like hot hoarfrost clinging to her body. Every second is another eternity—she wonders if she will ever truly heal.

_And in a flash, her mind went white. _

Move on That’s when you’ll become strong Move on From WHATEVER holds You Back Women Can Be Independent And Strong What If I Can’t

You’re that girl who always lend her shoulders for other people to cry on. But you’re also that girl who can’t show her true feelings to other people. You’re the one who holds it all together, the one who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

People always expect you to always have it together, that’s why it’s hard to show your weakness to others. What other people expect of me, then it’s what I’ve come to expect of myself.

“If I’m not the one holding everyone else up, what’s left of me? If I show my flaws, will people still see me the same way?”

The hardest realization is that I realize that being everybody’s strong girl, I’ve neglected my own needs and my own struggles.

I also crave for freedom to admit that I’m not always okay, and that sometimes I need help too.

Wonder Bread Soft and sweet Another thread Would be a better treat

Beneath the soil, in a tomb of roots, I slumbered in shadows, bound by boots Of earth and stone, of time and sleep, A secret kept in the cavern deep.

But then, a tremor—a whisper, a thread, A call through the darkness, a voice long dead. The stars leaned close, their lanterns alight, And pierced the veil of my endless night.

The sun, like a golden smith, struck fire, A forge for my heart, a furnace of desire. Each ray a hammer, each beam a song, Breaking the chains that held me wrong.

I felt the soil yield, the grip of the grave, As a sprout in the storm learns to be brave. My roots stretched wide, my leaves took flight, A fledgling caught in the arms of light.

The sky cracked open, a sapphire seam, And poured its wine on the lips of my dream. I drank it whole, that wild, sweet rain, Washing my spirit of fear and pain.

Now I stand, a tree, a flame, a tide, A river unbound, a truth untied. Awake, alive, no longer still— The world bends gently to my will.

For in the quiet, where death had reigned, I learned the art of life regained.

A push and a push and a push Rubber soles kiss rough concrete And I’m gliding The wind gripping and pulling my hair My skateboard moving faster and faster In that moment It feels like all the laws of physics Find perfect harmony within me Balance, acceleration, inertia, force Like an airplane going faster and faster Before disappearing into the sky Leaving everything else behind It all feels so small when you’re flying Like nothing on earth could hurt again Just one Small small small problem A rock Under the ever-quickening wheels Of my suddenly insignificant wooden plank And I’m flat on my face Blood wells up on my knees Tears well up in my eyes And it feels for a moment like My blood and my tears knew I would fall And were waiting to baptize me As a follower of failure Lungs both full off too much air And not enough Arms splayed out Hugging the earth for comfort The board Which once brought so much joy Fills me with fear So much I can hardly touch it I get up and begin walking away Before turning back And with bloody shaking hands Grab the board again Because I love too much The way it feels when I’m flying