28 May, 2016
Dreamin
I was dreaming last night that I was climbing this really tall mountain. It was super steep and the climb was really hard. When I got to the top, I stopped to rest and take in the view of the other side and kind of plan my decent. It was an even worse incline than the way I came and the other side was basically a desert. If that shit don't sum up my life...
21 May, 2016
Lucy (Prt 4)
It would be years before he heard from Lucy again. She had wrote him a note of congratulations on their new hit, Wasted Chances, a ballad about meeting an old flame in a bar. A few months later he had gotten a call from Lillian.
It was a car accident. She was taken swiftly. She wasn’t in pain. She would want you to be there.
She looked more like herself than she had the last time he had seen her. Her face was tranquil, as if she were simply sleeping.
He had hoped there would be time.
Lillian had informed him of a will and that her lawyer would be getting in touch with him soon. Lillian pressed a small tattered book into his hands.
“It was her journal. She mentioned you a lot. I felt you should have it.”
When he would read it on the way home, he would discover how much she truly had loved him, and even between all the dark, ugly things happening around her, there were patches of light, and at the center of each patch of light was his name.
A little girl, about ten years old, sat next to him during Lucy’s eulogy. On the other side of her sat a bitter lump of a drunk she called “Grandpa”. On the other side of him was a scowling lump of a degenerate the girl called “poppa.”
She said her name was Jonie and she liked horses and dancing.
She had the most gorgeous amber eyes he had ever seen.
18 May, 2016
Lucy (Prt 3)
Later that night he sat on their bus, unable to sleep. He hadn’t bothered trying to sober up. Every memory he had of her kept playing over and over, especially one in particular. The last time she had crawled through his window. There had been no denying the marks on her wrists, shaped like lumpy, drunken hands, and the crust of blood on her nostril. She had told him everything then. She had come undone completely, like a great dam had broken and Lucy came pouring through. She had sobbed for hours. He remembered how red her eyes were when she finally stopped. He had remembered the taste of her lips when she kissed had kissed him. He remembered being a young man with a young man’s passions. She had shown him the ropey white scars and how it had never been made by a dog. She stopped crying when he kissed it.To make it feel better.He kissed every scar she revealed that night. And again in the morning when he woke in the gleaming cloud of her hair.
That had been the hardest day. They had spent every minute up until departure together. The sun had started to cast its long shadows and Lucy had become quiet. He knew he had to get on the plane, and when he did, she would go home. He promised he would come back.
I always meant to come back for you.
She had spoken only two words. Two words, she wouldn’t beg. She would never beg. Those two words, now filled him with rage and hot shame. He stood at the gate. She tried her best to hide her shaking hands from him. He held her and said his goodbyes.
“You have the most gorgeous amber eyes I have ever seen.” She said, smiling. “I hope they see amazing things.”
He knew that she wouldn’t go with him. Not then. He hugged her again. This is how it had to be. He would go become rich and famous and come back for her so they could live the life they always wanted. She had whispered two words to him as they called to board.
“I can’t.”
He had said. He had to go chase his dream. She nodded in resignation. He gave her one last kiss. He made his way up the ramp with her whispered plea in his ears.
That was the last he had seen Lucy. His Lucy. They had tried to stay in touch but he got busy and fame got in the way and they finally just lost each other.
The bus’s tries hummed along the highway. The sun was starting to turn the sky a soft pink around the edges. Her words, her soft, tear-choked words repeated in his head like a record skipping.
Don’t go…
Don’t go…
Don’t go…
That had been the hardest day. They had spent every minute up until departure together. The sun had started to cast its long shadows and Lucy had become quiet. He knew he had to get on the plane, and when he did, she would go home. He promised he would come back.
I always meant to come back for you.
She had spoken only two words. Two words, she wouldn’t beg. She would never beg. Those two words, now filled him with rage and hot shame. He stood at the gate. She tried her best to hide her shaking hands from him. He held her and said his goodbyes.
“You have the most gorgeous amber eyes I have ever seen.” She said, smiling. “I hope they see amazing things.”
He knew that she wouldn’t go with him. Not then. He hugged her again. This is how it had to be. He would go become rich and famous and come back for her so they could live the life they always wanted. She had whispered two words to him as they called to board.
“I can’t.”
He had said. He had to go chase his dream. She nodded in resignation. He gave her one last kiss. He made his way up the ramp with her whispered plea in his ears.
That was the last he had seen Lucy. His Lucy. They had tried to stay in touch but he got busy and fame got in the way and they finally just lost each other.
The bus’s tries hummed along the highway. The sun was starting to turn the sky a soft pink around the edges. Her words, her soft, tear-choked words repeated in his head like a record skipping.
Don’t go…
Don’t go…
Don’t go…
14 May, 2016
Lucy (Prt 2)
“Yeah, sort of” Her smile slipped a notch or two. “Are you still seeing Mila what’s-her-name?”
Of course she would read the tabloids. The Fallen’s front man with his arm around that model or this actress. Nothing stuck though. He had, unfortunately, forgotten about her in the daze of Hollywood bustle and celebrity.
“Nah, not for a while now.”
That girl had been vapid and self-absorbed. He tried his best to be a good man for the ditz. He tried so hard he thought he had actual feelings for her at one time. But she was a vampire. Every gallon he gave her, she gave less than an ounce. Nothing was enough. He tried. But the air-headed debutante didn’t have nearly half the zeal for life that Lucy had once had.
“How’s your family?”
He asked, knowing she would defend the bitter lump of a drunk she called “daddy” to the very end. He had only met her mother a few times. Lucy had her eyes. He thought she may have had a sister, Lilly maybe, who was much older, but he had never met her. As for whoever she was going home to…
“Oh, they’re just fine. Dad still lives around here. And Lillian just had a little baby boy! He’s just the sweetest little thing!”
There she went. The unfailing ability to point out joy wherever she went. He wanted to hold her so bad, it was almost causing him physical pain to not touch her. He wanted to bury his regrets in the curls of her hair.
I always did mean to come back for you.
I’m so sorry….
A commotion near the back of the bar was gaining momentum. Diego, their drummer had had too much to drink.
“Hey, so, sorry to cut this short, but Diego’s gonna break something and we gotta get on the road in just a bit.”
Something went out in her eyes, like a guttering little flame that finally gave up its smoky ghost. He thought it may have looked like hope.
“Oh… ok. Well, it was nice seeing you. Maybe if you’re back this way, you can call me up and we can go get lunch or something and catch up.”
“Uh, yeah. That’d be great.”
He heard something shatter at the back of the bar. He sighed. The Diego had begun cursing loudly.
“So, I’ll see you around.”
He gave her a quick, awkward hug, before rushing off to tame his belligerent drummer. He paused at the door to wave good-bye. She waved back. Her eyes were full of such sadness.
Of course she would read the tabloids. The Fallen’s front man with his arm around that model or this actress. Nothing stuck though. He had, unfortunately, forgotten about her in the daze of Hollywood bustle and celebrity.
“Nah, not for a while now.”
That girl had been vapid and self-absorbed. He tried his best to be a good man for the ditz. He tried so hard he thought he had actual feelings for her at one time. But she was a vampire. Every gallon he gave her, she gave less than an ounce. Nothing was enough. He tried. But the air-headed debutante didn’t have nearly half the zeal for life that Lucy had once had.
“How’s your family?”
He asked, knowing she would defend the bitter lump of a drunk she called “daddy” to the very end. He had only met her mother a few times. Lucy had her eyes. He thought she may have had a sister, Lilly maybe, who was much older, but he had never met her. As for whoever she was going home to…
“Oh, they’re just fine. Dad still lives around here. And Lillian just had a little baby boy! He’s just the sweetest little thing!”
There she went. The unfailing ability to point out joy wherever she went. He wanted to hold her so bad, it was almost causing him physical pain to not touch her. He wanted to bury his regrets in the curls of her hair.
I always did mean to come back for you.
I’m so sorry….
A commotion near the back of the bar was gaining momentum. Diego, their drummer had had too much to drink.
“Hey, so, sorry to cut this short, but Diego’s gonna break something and we gotta get on the road in just a bit.”
Something went out in her eyes, like a guttering little flame that finally gave up its smoky ghost. He thought it may have looked like hope.
“Oh… ok. Well, it was nice seeing you. Maybe if you’re back this way, you can call me up and we can go get lunch or something and catch up.”
“Uh, yeah. That’d be great.”
He heard something shatter at the back of the bar. He sighed. The Diego had begun cursing loudly.
“So, I’ll see you around.”
He gave her a quick, awkward hug, before rushing off to tame his belligerent drummer. He paused at the door to wave good-bye. She waved back. Her eyes were full of such sadness.
10 May, 2016
Lucy (Prt 1)
I wrote this a few years ago. I wanted to write something sad. It's not the greatest, but I think I got the point across.
He hadn’t seen Lucy in years. If they had been anywhere else, he would never have even glanced at her. It was her voice that had lifted his head. The sound nearly brought a tear to his eye. Lucy, with whom he had once spent every honeyed day of their youth with. Lucy, the scent of whose hair would haunt him until the day he died. Lucy, no longer the girl he remembered, but the woman who stared at him out of the same sad, sky-blue eyes.
He resisted the urge to sweep her up and kiss her with all the passion that had come explosively alive within him. How long had it been since he had seen her last?
Too long. Far, far too long.
She began to speak again. He could hardly hear her over the rush of blood in his ears, and the general cacophony of the smoky old bar he had found himself in.
“I heard you guys were going to be playing here in town. How have you been?” Her smile was polite, cold. He remembered how she would shine like the sun when she would flash him her mischievous grin over any of the countless jokes they shared. He could see her life since they parted had been unkind.
“Yeah, I’m doing fine. After this tour we’re gonna go out to Greece for some R and R before we start in on the next album.”
He didn’t want to talk about his band, the Fallen, their platinum hit Scarlet Heart, their awards, the crowds of gloomy teens in Fallen tee-shirt, wearing scarred wrists, clamoring for their music, or the endless highway of stops and sleepless nights between here and there on their third tour. He didn’t want to think of the sting of whiskey in his throat or the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. All he wanted was to remember perfect, cool, cloudless nights they spent laying in the grass, staring into the heavens with her small soft hand in his.
“I saw your interview on the Kelly Show. You look fantastic!”
Lucy. Such enthusiasm marked her speech for as long as he had known her. For her, things were never simply good or ok or alright. She never saw mundane things. For her, beauty had been everywhere. That song was amazing! Your voice is wonderful! You look fantastic! Nothing was mundane for her.
“You look pretty alright yourself.”
The lie burned him. She looked far from horrible. She had aged well, leaving behind the slim boyish figure she once wore for something that closely resembled the sleek lines of a sports car. Her hair was still the color of the brilliant sunset and her eyes were still the bluest-blue he had ever seen. Now, though, her movements weren’t quite as graceful as he recalled. Her eyes flicked about nervously, something he was sure she never used to do before. She seemed faded, shadowed, like a cloud hung over her perpetually. Where once was fire now just a few small, dying embers remained. And pain.
So much pain in her eyes. How she had suffered. What had happened in the years since he left for California? What troubles had she had to face to turn his beautiful Lucy, who had once made his heart sing its scarlet love, into this shade? How many lonely tears caught on her pillow on starless nights? How she had cried, the fine lines of her face told the story.
“I haven’t seen you in forever. What have you been working on?”
She would never tell the truth of it, he knew. Not Lucy. She would put on her brave, brave face and muddle through as she always did. Nothing would keep her from making sure you knew everything was fine, especially when she wasn’t. It was always the same old, same old.
“Me and the band have been keeping pretty busy. Writing, and the tour. You know. Same old, same old.”
He smiled in assurance. He wanted to take her with him, to make her talk to him He wanted her to stop being so damn tough for once. He wanted it to be like the day before he boarded a jet for L.A. when she had finally let down her defenses. She showed him her bruises. She always pretended it was because she was clumsy. He had known deep down that wasn’t the case. She had shown him the ropey scars on the back of her thighs, from when she had knocked over daddy’s beer when she was four, not from the neighbor’s vicious dog like she had been saying for years. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, so prideful, would she have begged him to take her with him? He blamed himself for whatever it was that had happened to her since then. If-onlys danced through his skull.
“That’s great!”
Another lie. Touring sucked.
“So, got yourself a boyfriend or something?”
He regretted his question immediately. Something like fondness, terror and guilt passed in and out of her eyes like dappled shadows.
God, she’s found someone just like her dad. I bet a nickel.
But that’s what happened to girls like her. Eventually knights in shining armor ride off to do more important things in shining cities made of concrete and glass, and the damsels they leave behind wait for the knights to return like they promised and whisk them off to those gleaming metropolises. She had gotten tired of waiting. She had written him off. He wished he hadn’t. He thought she’d have the moxy to leave the first time things went bad. But he knew better. It wasn't until after the third or fourth time she had climbed through his window and cried herself to sleep in his arms without a single word all those years ago. He could’ve saved her. If only she had said something. Could he now?
Let me steal you away to a place where nothing will hurt you ever again.
But her life was here. He couldn’t ask her to leave it all behind on a whim.
He hadn’t seen Lucy in years. If they had been anywhere else, he would never have even glanced at her. It was her voice that had lifted his head. The sound nearly brought a tear to his eye. Lucy, with whom he had once spent every honeyed day of their youth with. Lucy, the scent of whose hair would haunt him until the day he died. Lucy, no longer the girl he remembered, but the woman who stared at him out of the same sad, sky-blue eyes.
He resisted the urge to sweep her up and kiss her with all the passion that had come explosively alive within him. How long had it been since he had seen her last?
Too long. Far, far too long.
She began to speak again. He could hardly hear her over the rush of blood in his ears, and the general cacophony of the smoky old bar he had found himself in.
“I heard you guys were going to be playing here in town. How have you been?” Her smile was polite, cold. He remembered how she would shine like the sun when she would flash him her mischievous grin over any of the countless jokes they shared. He could see her life since they parted had been unkind.
“Yeah, I’m doing fine. After this tour we’re gonna go out to Greece for some R and R before we start in on the next album.”
He didn’t want to talk about his band, the Fallen, their platinum hit Scarlet Heart, their awards, the crowds of gloomy teens in Fallen tee-shirt, wearing scarred wrists, clamoring for their music, or the endless highway of stops and sleepless nights between here and there on their third tour. He didn’t want to think of the sting of whiskey in his throat or the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. All he wanted was to remember perfect, cool, cloudless nights they spent laying in the grass, staring into the heavens with her small soft hand in his.
“I saw your interview on the Kelly Show. You look fantastic!”
Lucy. Such enthusiasm marked her speech for as long as he had known her. For her, things were never simply good or ok or alright. She never saw mundane things. For her, beauty had been everywhere. That song was amazing! Your voice is wonderful! You look fantastic! Nothing was mundane for her.
“You look pretty alright yourself.”
The lie burned him. She looked far from horrible. She had aged well, leaving behind the slim boyish figure she once wore for something that closely resembled the sleek lines of a sports car. Her hair was still the color of the brilliant sunset and her eyes were still the bluest-blue he had ever seen. Now, though, her movements weren’t quite as graceful as he recalled. Her eyes flicked about nervously, something he was sure she never used to do before. She seemed faded, shadowed, like a cloud hung over her perpetually. Where once was fire now just a few small, dying embers remained. And pain.
So much pain in her eyes. How she had suffered. What had happened in the years since he left for California? What troubles had she had to face to turn his beautiful Lucy, who had once made his heart sing its scarlet love, into this shade? How many lonely tears caught on her pillow on starless nights? How she had cried, the fine lines of her face told the story.
“I haven’t seen you in forever. What have you been working on?”
She would never tell the truth of it, he knew. Not Lucy. She would put on her brave, brave face and muddle through as she always did. Nothing would keep her from making sure you knew everything was fine, especially when she wasn’t. It was always the same old, same old.
“Me and the band have been keeping pretty busy. Writing, and the tour. You know. Same old, same old.”
He smiled in assurance. He wanted to take her with him, to make her talk to him He wanted her to stop being so damn tough for once. He wanted it to be like the day before he boarded a jet for L.A. when she had finally let down her defenses. She showed him her bruises. She always pretended it was because she was clumsy. He had known deep down that wasn’t the case. She had shown him the ropey scars on the back of her thighs, from when she had knocked over daddy’s beer when she was four, not from the neighbor’s vicious dog like she had been saying for years. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, so prideful, would she have begged him to take her with him? He blamed himself for whatever it was that had happened to her since then. If-onlys danced through his skull.
“That’s great!”
Another lie. Touring sucked.
“So, got yourself a boyfriend or something?”
He regretted his question immediately. Something like fondness, terror and guilt passed in and out of her eyes like dappled shadows.
God, she’s found someone just like her dad. I bet a nickel.
But that’s what happened to girls like her. Eventually knights in shining armor ride off to do more important things in shining cities made of concrete and glass, and the damsels they leave behind wait for the knights to return like they promised and whisk them off to those gleaming metropolises. She had gotten tired of waiting. She had written him off. He wished he hadn’t. He thought she’d have the moxy to leave the first time things went bad. But he knew better. It wasn't until after the third or fourth time she had climbed through his window and cried herself to sleep in his arms without a single word all those years ago. He could’ve saved her. If only she had said something. Could he now?
Let me steal you away to a place where nothing will hurt you ever again.
But her life was here. He couldn’t ask her to leave it all behind on a whim.
08 May, 2016
Friend Fiction: Number One, Part Five
"I kind of feel like we should do something while were' here." Katy said, watching the butterflies flitting from flower to flower out in the sunlight. Patrick, strummed a few merry chords on his mandolin. "Like what?" He asked. Katy shrugged. "I don't know, maybe clean it up a bit?" The three of them looked around, but aside form some rubble there wasn't much to clear away. "Well, it's not like it's getting any visitors out here," Amanda said, wandering off to look at more of the carvings. Katy looked to Patrick for an idea. Patrick just kept placidly playing his mandolin. She sighed in mild annoyance and wandered off outside, with Jaspers close at hand. She waded into the flowers and picked a nice bundle. Near the edge of the swath of flowers was a nice little pile of rocks. She picked out a couple nice ones. She even found a small snail shell. She brought them back into the ruins. Amanda watched as Katy arranged the little bouquet with the rocks in front of the alter, under the unicorn sigil. She smiled in approval.
....And I'm out of gas. I left this sitting in "drafts" too long and now I don't have the gumption to finish it. Boo, Amanda, boo. Oh well. Maybe later.
....And I'm out of gas. I left this sitting in "drafts" too long and now I don't have the gumption to finish it. Boo, Amanda, boo. Oh well. Maybe later.
05 May, 2016
Ash to ash
and dust to dust
It rots away
or turns to rust
don't get attached
or it will slash
your heart in two
because everything you love
is going to leave you
give and give
with no return
trust them once
and you'll get burned
they'll leave you numb
hollow like a drum
and then you'll see
that everything you love
is going to leave
and dust to dust
It rots away
or turns to rust
don't get attached
or it will slash
your heart in two
because everything you love
is going to leave you
give and give
with no return
trust them once
and you'll get burned
they'll leave you numb
hollow like a drum
and then you'll see
that everything you love
is going to leave
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