Jul 13


It has been
so long 
since I've 
seen the sun.

I can feel
the warmth
but cannot see
the light.

I do not
think I am 

I know the 
sun is in the 
sky, looking out
for me.

It is like
a friend
I can count on
one that will never leave me.

Its eyes watch
my every move
but I can't
see it too.

The stars are
the only thing 
I can see.

They listen to
my woes
and gently nudge
me towards daylight.

But even they 
can't understand
that I am cursed
to not see it.

you helped me
to see those stars,
don't you know?

can you help
me see the sunlight?

why have you 
cursed me to
only see the darkness?

you taught me to find solace in the stars.
but you never taught me to find peace in the sun.
Jul 12
poem 0 comments challenge: Left Out


Everyone said I was too mean.
Too cruel, too demanding.
That I didn't do enough
and forced others to do 
what I was supposed to.

Maybe they were right.
Maybe I pushed everything onto somone else.
But I did so so my siblings
could say they helped with chores
and wouldn't get punished.

I ask them to take Bella on a walk.
To sweep the floor, to do the litterbox.
While I stayed at the desk,
typing until my fingers bled
and I was crying.

Then I'd go upstairs for a bit.
To calm down, to reassure myself that I could do it.
I come downstairs and my father
is playing a game with my three siblings
while they laugh at another kill.

But it's fine, right?
I've played against them before.
Besides, they hated when I played
because I'd single-handedly 
beat them all.

I would go back into the computer room.
Jul 11

Wolves Without Teeth

"It's perfectly strange
You run in my veins
How can I keep you
Inside my lungs?"
Of Monsters and Men, "Wolves Without Teeth"

"Mama, who is that?" My voice was quiet, so small. I was so young when I first met Alexander. I didn't meet him, not exactly. I just...saw him out of the corner of my eye and stopped to look closer. He'd turned, seen me, and grinned. Mother pulled me away.
"A family friend. You'll meet him soon, Chier, don't worry."
I worried. 

It took years of pestering my parents to see that strange being again. I was fourteen when Mom pulled out the dark stone.
"This is him, honey. Now he's yours. Don't call his name until you need him. He will only come when you're in danger." Her smile was genuine as she closed my fingers over the palm-sized stone. "Never let him go."
I didn't.
Jul 11


Jul 11
poem 1 comment challenge: Crowd

The Train Station

The train isn't coming fast enough, 
what do you mean you didn't pay the bills?

Now, now, girl, settle down,
you'll meet your grandfather soon.

I just put your hair up, and you go and ruin it?
I can't work today, my girl's sick. Sorry, boss.

Thank you for taking me here, I enjoyed it very much
This bread is old and rotten!

Watch out, there's a dog!
Don't sneeze on me!

That annoying bell is going to make my ears bleed,
do you have a tissue?

Mama, mama! There's a bird!
Yes, dear, I know. 

Kids these days don't know respect.
Who do you think you're looking at!?

Can you turn off your music, sir?
Of course, ma'am, I'm sorry if it's too loud.

Jul 10

The Ancients

There was a time when the ancients were revered.
No more.
Now we burn their huts, tear their temples to the ground. We destroy their culture, squashing it into the ground. Then we turn our backs and forget.
They never forgot. 
The ancients we so desecrated tear open our bodies, pouring our souls onto the ground. Our eyes are wide open as we are possessed and made to see and feel what they have, those fearsome gods. Every inch of my being is set on fire and doused with more gasoline. I cannot even scream as my body becomes someone else's.
I pay for my ancestors' mistake, all those years ago. As my body hits the floor, my eyes are unseeing, skin unfeeling, limbs unmoving. As my soul floats above, it is grabbed by those same gods and torn to shreds, just as they had been so long ago. It feels like yesterday to them that my great-great-grandfather burned one of their priestesses, although not without forcefully enjoying her first. 

Jul 10

Why should people know how to write a story?

I don't what to file this under, but I have a summer project I need to do for my AP Lang class. I'm supposed to deliver a 5 minute speech on something I think people need to know, and being the writer I am, I chose "How to Write a Story."
I'm supposed to conduct research, maybe give interviews, etc. to get opinions, facts, and real people's words. I'm in the middle of doing a rough draft, and should it go well, I want to record my whole speech and maybe post it here, as well as the speech and the powerpoint I'd deliver.
I was already going to use this site as a place where my classmates could write, but I could probably credit it should I get information from here.
In your words, why should people know how to write a story? What use does it have for everyday life? How can it help someone in their career?
Possibly, could I interview you? Via Skype, email, discord, etc? I could blur out your name, change it, etc. to preserve your anonymity.

Jul 10
poem 0 comments challenge: Out


We  all stared at that clock,
numbers flashing red against the board.
We all held our breath, holding tight to our loved ones in that panicked throng.
I heard a child start to sob,
her cries loud enough for the whole room to hear.
I whispered to the baby in my arms, my voice soft. 
She was lucky to be asleep, her silver bow pristine on her head.
The door opened at the end of the room, light flooding in.
I shielded my eyes, the child nestled in my coat waking.

I was there when the time ran out.
We were all there when the time ran out.
As the crowd surged to the final stage of our journey, 
the buzzer rang, we immigrants ran through that gate,
finally free from our past.

As I stood on that hill, looking away from the state behind us,
Jul 09

The Dove and the Raven

I cannot see past the dove's white wings,
nor under those of the raven.

The sheer contrast between the birds
is destroyed as a blast pierces the air.

The dove and the raven fly away together,
their wings flapping in unison.

In front of me now is the darkest tree I have ever seen,
filled with peering eyes.

The eyes stare at me,
an intruder, with thousands of mocking colors.

Then there is an ocean,
vast and filled to the brim with choking seaweed, debris, and bodies.

Face-up, they float, 
mouths of fish, birds, and humans open to the buzzing of flies.

A darkened sky fills my view,
stars twinkling above and shaking me to my very core.

These stars I have never seen,
are only heralding the nearing of the end.

I close my eyes and the birds return,
pecking at my eyes,
admonishing me for seeing
what wasn't truly there.

Jul 09


You always celebrated Christmas a few months early.
You would string up your lights on the first day of school,
setting up your fake tree as soon as you got home.

Halloween was always on the last day of June.
Neighbors would yell as you and your brother
visited every house on the street, begging for sweets.

You'd take random days off, calling them holidays.
Martin Luther King Day, Columbus Day, Memorial Day
would always be on the days of tests and exams.

I remember when you pulled me along with you.
You said it was Valentine's Day and that you had something to show me,
something so secret in the middle of December.

I remember the lights, the reds and pinks.
Your smile was so bright, so wide, so joyful
as you told me you loved me.

It was my birthday, that day, so long ago.
I'm happy it is the same date of our anniversary,
our wedding, and that of our first child.