fights

Abra the Bully

Folder: 
Poetry

Abra suddenly appeared;

He knocked on my door.

But I was startled,

So I slammed the door.

 

Later I went into the hallway,

And there he called me bitch.

I thought he would beat me up,

But he turned his back and went away.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Something that happened to me.

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Aggressive Warhead

Folder: 
Poetry

I was at home,

Relaxed and alone.

I lay sleeping,

The darkness was reaping.

 

Then I heard the sound;

Crushed windows all around.

Everything was destroyed,

Of glass everything devoid.

 

Then I heard Warhead at my door,

Personification of Balthazor.

The glass broke into shivers,

Splinters were in my flesh delivered.

 

In spite of my fear,

At Warhead I did appear.

And tried to calm him down,

And he stopped throwing things around.

 

Everything seemed to be well,

Warhead had changes of mood, I can tell.

And Lays-chips was lying there,

I wouldn't touch it, I declared;

'cause it belonged to Warhead.

 

Hours later, Warhead came down;

In his anger still drowned.

He wanted his stuff,

But I knew he would bluff.

Always talking about guns,

But the true deed he shuns.

Though I was confused,

His stuff was unused.

Is what Ramses did tell,

And so ended this hell...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Something that happened to me in real life and a dream I had afterwards.

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Abra The Bully

Folder: 
Poetry
Abra suddenly appeared;
He knocked on my door.
But I was startled,
So I slammed the door.
 
Later I went into the hallway,
And there he called me bitch.
I thought he would beat me up,
But he turned his back and went away.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

An event in my life,

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A Fight For August

Folder: 
Short Stories

My hands have a bluish tint to them thanks to the cold and I can barely feel the homemade cigarette between my fingers. Laurie is lying next to me on the large, scratchy blanket slowly puffing on hers. She learned to make them with tea from a Youtube video. They’re not half bad but she looks better smoking them than I do.

   I turn over onto my back and rest my face against her shoulder.

     “Ya know, this would be a very movie-like situation if we weren’t turning into giant icicles,” I say as I stare at the quivering stars.

   Laurie laughs too loud and covers her mouth. We both quickly look over at her house to make sure no one woke up.

“Jordan, look it’s a shooting star.” She points to the sky, her cig leaving behind twirly trails of smoke.

I grab her freezing hand in mine and smile. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of icy air.

     “What did you wish for?” I ask her. I hold my cigarette between my forefinger and my thumb.

     “That we won’t get caught.”

     “What? Smoking or running away?” I turn to face her.

     “Running away,” she says. “Have you figured out where you want to go? We can’t stay in one spot, but we’ll still go to L.A.”

I roll over onto my stomach and pick at a splinter in my thumb.

     “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we should go through with it. It’s not worth the punishment. I mean, our parents would never trust us again. It wouldn’t be a big deal if we were gonna run away for forever, but we’re coming back. And I’m sure they’d find us anyway.”

I don’t look at Laurie as she sits up and stares at me.

     “Jordan, you can’t be serious. I need this. We need this,” she says. She cranes her neck to try and get me to look at her.

I don’t.

     “Fine. I’ll go alone.”

Is she serious, right now? I can’t believe her. Always the drama queen.

I don’t say a word but breathe in the bitter smoke from my cig and blow it out through my teeth.

     “Well, some friend you are. I guess I see your true colors now. I thought you cared, Jordan. I guess I was wrong.” She tucks her legs up to her chin and places her crossed arms on top of them.

I roll my eyes underneath my fringe.

     “I do care, Laurie. It’s just that I’m not willing to risk my freedom for temporary freedom. And what would we even be able to do? We’re 15 not 21.”

     “That’s why we’ll bring Devon. He’s 20.”

     “He won’t come. And, dude, that might be illegal. He could get in trouble for running away with a couple of minors.” I stand up and stomp on the butt of my cigarette with my boot. “And since he won’t come we can’t go because he’s the one that drives.”

    “I’ll be able to drive in a few months, legally that is.”

     “Then fine. Go alone. Suit yourself.” I stand up and adjust my cookie monster beanie that I borrowed from Laurie’s younger brother. “Life isn’t as bad as you think, ya know? All you can do is create great moments like these ones and make sure reality’s not allowed in for a little while. I hope you have fun. See you in the morning.” I lean down and kiss her head.

I climb down the ladder and smile at her.

She doesn’t smile back.

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Pictures that I remember.

Photos are on my back and my face
The harm that was bestowed by each individual case
The photos on my back are from those you call friends
The photos on my heart are from when our love ends
The photos on my face are from the fights I've won and lost
But the pain is really what each picture costs
Hoping to go far and eventually become a star
But by the time I get there, from head to toe, I'll be covered in scars.

angry walls

the other side of the wall
Fuck it
so cold and kniving'
you cant stand going up
and back down
just to go up again
and im much too stubborn
you wont bring what i need
like you dont have enough energy?
is that extra object weighing you down?
was it me you were waiting for?
waiting to be waited on?
whispers float from slams in cuboard doors
angry shuffles bounce from ceiling to floor
fake tones hide venom dripping and ready to fall
and it sucks on the other side of this wall
but then you poke a brick through
my panic wasted
i should have known
you diddnt do it in purpose
but anger is a definate feeling
it takes control
tensing muscles
flaring nostrils
i must succumb
but there is a voice
a voice like yours
it quietley whispers words of reason
to them i pay no attention
as i stare at my angry hurt wall
that blocks me from seeing the truth
bandaids where missing bricks should be
you pop another brick through
i feel like an ass
your eyes
your humor
stare as your strength
your hands
push yet another brick
first against my will
but voluntary now
i press my palms to that angry wall
and SHOVE PUSH LUNGE! with all my mind
things are fine now
as they always are
the wall is rubble
i should have known
you diddnt do it on purpose
i should have known
you diddnt mean it
and you should know i diddnt mean it
we should have known
it was an accident
and love is never perfect

Author's Notes/Comments: 

im starting to experiment with non rhyming poems

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