Creative Writing

Make It Through | A Poem

Where’s the boy

Who told me

What was on his mind

Talked for hours every day

Shed tears during the night

Had nothing to hide

And a friend for life

Yet you substituted

One for someone

Bit what will you have

When that someone becomes no one

When the former still hasn’t forgotten

You think you’ve found happiness

So enjoy what you have

While you still have this

I hope you make it through

I want you to love her

Like you loved me

When we were a team

Creative Writing

Happy Birthday Poem To A Blogger (With Rhyme)

It’s someone’s birthday today! And this someone happens to be one of the best bloggers ever.

Happy Birthday

I want to be the first to greet you this way

To write you a rhyming poem on your special day

May all your dreams come true

May you turn the page and start anew

*

Your blog is the very best

You should probably get some rest

This year is yours for the taking

Those stories are yours for the making

*

Thank you for being you

Here’s to all you’ve been through

I hope you enjoy what’s to come

While marching to the beat of your own drum

Harry Potter Movies and Birthday Candle

Happy birthday, Rachel! Sorry for this cringe-worthy post.

Here are a ton of other birthday poems I’ve written:

Happy Birthday Poem (For Her With Rhyme)

Happy Birthday Poem (For Him With Rhyme)

Happy Birthday Poem (For Cousin With Rhyme)

Happy Birthday Poem (For Mother With Rhyme)

Happy Birthday Poem With Rhyme (For Fan/Friend/Family)

Happy Birthday Poem (To All With Rhyme)

Happy Birthday Poem For Her (To A Friend With Rhyme)

(I won’t do this again next year. Promise.)

Creative Writing

All Or Nothing | A Short Story

She watched him change until he was no longer recognizable to her.

Amy grew up with him. They lived across the street from each other and their parents were good friends. So it was no surprise Amy and Daniel spent most of their childhood together. He was eight months younger than her, born in November. She treated him like the younger brother she never had. Especially since her older brother was out of the country, studying abroad.

She doesn’t remember much when she was a baby. Only what her mother and father told her. They did everything together. Learned to walk at the same time. Watched the same television programs as kids. Even went to the same school, took similar classes.

But something changed.

It didn’t happen overnight.

And because she saw him so often, she didn’t realize he was changing right before her eyes until it was too late.

She couldn’t count the number of times he went to her house and vice-versa. Their parents didn’t care either. Sometimes when Amy’s mom and dad had somewhere to be, Daniel’s parents took care of her. When Daniel’s parents had to go out, Daniel went over to Amy’s to stay the night.

She could remember their sleepovers so vividly. Her parents set up a room with two beds on opposite walls for Amy and her older brother. Amy slept on one and her brother slept on the other. But because he was away, studying in Europe, Daniel would occupy her brother’s bed on nights he came over. They talked well into the night.

Amy used to fall asleep first no matter how hard she tried to fight sleep off.

She always wondered if he watched her as she slept.

Amy would wake up first and watch him.

He snored but not very loudly. Not loud enough to wake her up from her deep slumber.

Though they lived across the street, Amy and Daniel also liked talking on the phone. They could spend hours talking to each other. Many nights they stayed awake, chatting and laughing.

At first his silence didn’t bother her. She was comfortable with his silences. Amy figured he didn’t always have that much to say, especially since they spent so much time with each other, shared a lot about their lives. So it was possible Daniel had run out of things to tell her.

Amy didn’t want to think about any other possibility. He wasn’t moody or grumpy. He wasn’t an introvert. He just needed some space, some distance.

The nights they spent talking on the phone were less frequent. The conversations much shorter.

So long as they still talked to each other, Amy was overjoyed. But eventually they stopped.

Or he stopped.

She called his house one day and his mom picked up.

His mom told her he was busy.

Another time he was at a friend’s house.

Eventually Amy got sick of the excuses and asked Daniel herself when she saw him in person.

He shrugged and told her he had a life.

Daniel may as well have shoved her to the ground and left her there.

She found out he had a girlfriend through a friend of his.

Amy was talking to Sean when he let it slip.

She couldn’t help but feel as though they would never be friends again. 

Creative Writing

Real Friend | A Short Story

Avery rang his cell for the third time.

“He’s ignoring you.” Elaine said in a low voice.

“Boys.” Avery tossed her phone in front of her, casting a look at Elaine. Both girls snorted. “How’s Drew by the way?”

Elaine grabbed a bottle of nail polish off her vanity. “The same.”

They were sitting in Elaine’s bedroom, a pink and gold explosion. The walls were bright pink, as was the bedding. The pillows seemed to span every shade of gold.

“Should we ditch them?”

Avery’s eyebrows hitched higher up on her wide forehead. “You think?”

Elaine uncapped the nail polish and began painting her toenails a bubblegum pink. “I don’t know what I saw in Drew.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“You’re defending him?” She brought her foot closer to her face and blew on her big toe.

Shrugging, Avery leaned in closer to her friend. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”

“No no.” Elaine wagged the applicator brush at Avery.

“Then what?”

“He’s boring.”

Avery resisted the urge to roll her eyes, looking away instead. Her phone, which she tossed onto the bed a moment ago, taunted her by remaining silent. “What do you think he’s doing?”

“Drew?”

“No, Jackie.”

“Nothing.”

“If he’s doing nothing, then why isn’t he picking up?” Avery picked up a pillow and tugged at the gold beads.

Elaine twisted the applicator back into the bottle and spread her feet out in front of her. The pinks of her toenails glistened in the golden light of her room. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t get him.”

“Find another.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” A frown pulled at the corners of Avery’s mouth.

Just then her phone buzzed on the bedding.

“It’s Jackie.”

Elaine narrowed her blue eyes and reached for the phone. “Don’t pick up.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t pick up your calls,” Elaine emphasized the last word. “So you shouldn’t pick up his. Give him a taste of his disgusting poison.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she repeated. “Maybe he was busy.”

She sighed, tossing the phone in Avery’s direction. “Do as you please girlfriend. Just remember who your real friend is.”

Writing

Friendships And Writing

Have you ever been in a relationship with someone, and one day you two stopped talking for whatever reason? Then you never talked to him or her ever again?

Have you ever invested a lot of time into a project, and one day you stopped working on it? Then you never touched it again?

Uh, yes and definitely yes. 

The latter tends to haunt me more. 

Reading

You Are A Reader

You are a reader.

Regardless of how many books you’ve read this year. Regardless of what genre and age category those books fall into. Regardless of how long those books are or even how long it took you to finish them.

I realize the Goodreads Choice Awards winners were announced yesterday. I can’t say I’m surprised at the books that won or even the ones that were nominated. And I don’t think it will surprise you when I say I haven’t read well, ninety-nine percent of them. That number probably isn’t accurate. I’m not a mathematician. I’m a reader, a writer, a lover of words, not numbers.

You aren’t any less of a reader because you didn’t read the nominees or winners. Also please know you aren’t strange or stupid for not liking a book that won.

You aren’t any less of a reader for any reason. But you aren’t a reader if you don’t read. In which case, our friendship doesn’t exist.

Creative Writing

Strangers Again

Is this the very end

I will never forget when

You used to be my friend

Now we’re strangers again

Personal Reflection

Wonderful People Of The World

Hey wonderful people of the world!

Know that someone, somewhere loves you.

I hope you love someone too whether that is your mother, a grandparent, your sister, a friend, your cousin, a teacher, etc. It’s okay if you don’t.

Even so, I want you to find something or someone you love. And love him or her or it forever.

That isn’t so hard, is it? That isn’t too much to ask for, right?

I know that Valentine’s Day was yesterday but that doesn’t mean you stop loving someone any less.

One of my teachers believe you have to “keep the love alive.” Well, let me be the first to tell you to keep the love alive year round.

Buy her chocolates on a day which has no particular significance. Cook him dinner as a surprise one night. I know the above examples were completely cliche and stereotypical but you know what I mean.

Love isn’t a one-day thing. Love isn’t supposed to be a short-term fling.

I have one last thing to say before I call it a day…

Stay wonderful.