Little [Random] Things

Too many things lie between us, quivering, quaking in darkness like silence, or a laugh being shoved back down your throat. I press my cheek against the top of your head, your hair burning with the fidgeting fingers of the sun, listening to words that have no shape, or sound, or feel, just words that sit like fat potatoes between me and you, words that build up like gum under school desks and surround you. Tendrils, thin wispy letters, dig their way through your skin, overgrown bean plants. Everytime I try to pull one down, they rip at your skin and you cry out. Your silence floats like a feather, suspended below my mouth; when I speak it flutters with the fluctuations of my voice. Too many things hold us at a distance, two lone figures across each other, toes at the edge of a seemingly uncrossable gap. I heave stones into the darkness, my hand tight around yours, placing trust and love and faith and understanding like stepst...

Back of the classroom is a shadowy place, flickering edges and flimsy images- one, two, three, four, gone again. Five, six, seven, eight, fingers digging deeper, harder, tracing angelically- angel’s bruises. Chanting, what you don’t know will never hurt you, what you know stays forever, a lie, a fat, goose plump lie A hundred ways to say NO gather force, while fingers press harshly, rib after rib.

only when you've touched the sky when you've walked the world and coughed up salt water only when you've stepped into dawn to follow into dusk only when you look down at your hands and see so many paths taken so many dead ends only when the stars fall down and burn to death, when the clouds explode and the moon becomes a puddle of tears only when the people you love, let you go only when your hair falls out and your mind grows dark only when light blends into night and rainbows become black and white only when everything worth fighting for has fallen, dust to ashes and ashes to light only when fate taunts you, better luck next time only then can you please let go and listen to that one last heartbeat and wish it could have been ***I changed it...thanks Valerie ;)

Her name was Scarlet and there were certain things she knew and didn’t know. She was six years old. She did not have red hair. She did not know what her favorite color was and she did not think anyone liked her. Her middle name was Red because her father thought it was funny, and she guessed that was why her mother left. Her mother, Lucy, probably didn’t appreciate her father’s kind of humor, even though Scarlet thought it was quite charming and she loved it. Her father quoted her mother a lot, and that’s how she knew he still loved her. Well, that and also the fact that one bright morning, when she had been playing in the attic with her dolls, she found his pictures of her mother. Scarlet wasn’t even supposed to be in the attic, because the one rule her father kept in place was the attic-is-off-limits rule. But her father had been out at the hardware store looking for roofing nails, and Scarlet had stumbled upon the attic door hidden in the back of the hallway closet. There hadn...