Girl Made Of Glass | A Poem

No one came to my aid that day

And years later, nothing’s changed

I will never forgive what they did

Can’t forget what they didn’t do

I still remember

The scene that changed

The course of my play

I stopped feeling sorry

It never did anything for me

Just like them, standing there

Bearing witness to a moment

All but one still recalls

Don’t need to close my eyes

In order to see

A girl made of glass

Breaking ever so slowly

World Works Out | A Poem

Life can be good

But sometimes it’s not

So I’ll fall back

Take a chance on myself

I mean to follow through

Can’t lost faith now

Not when I have a window of opportunity

It’s going to be okay

The world works out

This game called life

Takes care of itself

So long as I continue

To care for what matters

That includes my health

A Different Kind Of Work | A Short Story

I shoot my eyes to the screen and wonder not for the first time why I’m doing this. Why I deliberately put myself through a task so difficult it’s brought me to tears on more than one occasion.

The buzz of my phone makes me jump. I’m more alert and aware now. But I ignore the notification because I refuse to give in to distractions, however tempting. 

I breathe in and out. A slow inhale. Then I release my breath for a longer count. I don’t keep track of the seconds I’m inhaling or exhaling, but after a minute of doing this, I’m calmer. My heart rate slows ever so slightly.

A cup of water stands beside me. I reach for the handle, take a sip. Relish the cool liquid as it travels down my throat. I realize I drink when I’m at a loss for words. When I hope to clear my head so I can think more carefully.

Already I’m tempted to take another sip. 

My desk lamp provides enough illumination to work by. The light casts shadows against my face.

On my right is a window. Through the slit of the curtains, I can see that it’s dark outside. But the night sky with millions of stars is a welcome sight. 

I glance at all I have to do still. The tabs open in the web browser. The textbook open on my desk.

I used to want to grow up. To be an adult. To feel grown-up. To have more responsibilities. Now that’s the last thing I want.

So I channel my energy elsewhere in hopes that it’ll lead me some place better.

If not, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I know I’m wishing, but I’m also working towards a vision only I can see.

Gold Medal | A Poem

Don’t lose sight of that vision in your head

Sometimes that’s all you have

You know what you want

You dictate what you chase

And the things that fall away

You give power to what matters

Can’t spend the rest of your life

Worrying over what could’ve been

So work to make it happen

Remember never settle

Stay thirsty

Hungry for the gold medal

But that’s not the reason why

You put yourself in the firing line

You do this for the right reasons

For the little girl who survived

Crowded | A Short Story

The girl fingered the edge of her black shirt. She watched as people gathered around. The crowd grew larger with each passing minute; however, she didn’t walk any closer and no one paid her any attention.

Everyone else began cheering or clapping. There were shouts and screams. The girl on the periphery had her mouth drawn in a tight line while her hands stayed by her side.

She started to walk away. Her feet carried her in the opposite direction, away from the crowd. Nevertheless, the loud cheers reached her ears.

Walking faster, she nearly tripped over a crack in the ground. But the girl stayed upright.

But her fingers still clutched the edge of her shirt.

Her fingers hurt.

How Far She’s Come | A Poem

I won’t forget about the girl who cried

Buried her face in a pillow

So that it would muffle every sound

Even the silent screams

And loud whispers

Because she won’t forget

Biting down on her tongue

Keeping her mouth shut, lips sealed

Never uttering an unsettling word

Her hand used to clutch a tissue

Before her nails found skin and dug in

Dark hair fell in front of darker eyes

Hardened by night storms

But as night gave way to day

Her body did the same

Wiped the tears, dried the eyes

Plastered on a smile, put on a show

This is a stage she’s always known

But the curtain’s closed

She can walk away and never come back

Yet I won’t let her forget how far she’s come

Raging Fire | A Short Story

Adam shook his head, his dark eyes watching her. “I thought this was important to you.” After a slight pause, he lowered his voice and added, “but I guess I was wrong.”

She shot a dirty look at him.

Holding up his hands, his lips pulled down into a frown. “Show me you care then, Jessie.”

Her blue eyes darkened like the sky whenever a cloud conceals the sun. 

“You used to care, remember? Way back when. You put your heart and soul into this. And now…” Adam didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Jessie knew what he would’ve said, could fill in the blanks herself.

“Like you’re one to tell me how to live my life,” she spat under her breath.

To her surprise, he chuckled at her comment. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

She remained silent. 

Adam splayed his hands out in front of him. “Seriously what happened to your fire, your passion?”

Her lips came together to form a thin line. “I don’t know.”

Adam placed a hand on her arm. She didn’t pull away.

“I’ve lost it.”

A moment of hesitation. “Well, you can find it again,” Adam said. 

“What if I never had passion to begin with?” Jessie shut her eyes for a few seconds, squeezing them hard. “You can’t lose what you don’t have.”

He folded his arms across his chest, regarding her closely. “Do you really believe that? You were the most dedicated of them all.”

“I’m not anymore.”

This time he put both his hands on either of her arms. Jessie stood as still as a statue, staring straight into Adam’s brown eyes.

“The fire is there. I know it. You know it. You have a passion that no one can rival. That fire isn’t dying anytime soon. You won’t let it die, Jess.”

“How can you be so sure?” She started to bite her lower lip.

Adam gave a small smile. “Because I’ve seen the fire.”

Burned And Branded | A Poem

Burned and branded

Even before I knew it

I should’ve seen the flames coming

Opened my eyes to realize 

I wouldn’t have a choice

They made me see

Things I cannot forget

I should’ve read the fire

But I didn’t

Not because I wasn’t able to

I just wanted to believe

That the ashes pointed in the wrong direction

Look where that got me

I’m in a place I never imagined

Glass House | A Short Story

You’re goals. You’re perfect for each other. You guys are so cute.

That was all anyone ever said about our relationship.

I don’t understand how no one saw the truth, saw through his facade.

We lived together for two years. The house was made of bricks, but sometimes I wish the walls were made of glass, so people could see through it. And find out what really happened behind closed doors.

We weren’t cute. We weren’t goals. We weren’t perfect.

Our outings became less and less frequent before they stopped happening altogether.

Stay The Same | A Poem

I could go on

List reasons

Find needles that prick

Pick thorns in my side

I don’t think you will change

Something tells me you’ll stay the same

And I’ve long since stopped listening

To what everyone likes to say

It doesn’t matter

Nothing will erase the past

That’s fine by me

Okay somehow

When you spot your weaknesses

Confront lies you’ve kept inside

I hope you aren’t entirely alone

I won’t be there, can’t wait forever

But I don’t forget

Neither will you

You’re in control

Don’t need to swap roles