A True Heart

I'm here forever
Not a time I won't ever
My love for you
I swear it true
Even if you give me hell
I won't Shout like a bell
Most the time I don't promise
But I can and will for this
I promise you babe
I'll be more honest than Abe
I couldn't see you enough
But when I can't I stay tough
Baby you're absolutely amazing
To say you're not isn't even a thing
All that i ask
Is don't wear a mask
And just stay true
For that is the perfect you








(By the way, last name was done wrong for whatever reason when i made this email but you all can figure who it is)

The Rope

                     It was dark and foggy out. Jenna had just got off work and was making the hour and a half commute home. Most of the ride home was through the woods. But there was a bridge in the middle of the woods. As Jenna approached the box shaped bridge, she glanced at the time, “11:07PM”. Jenna thought to herself, “Don should be asleep, and May and John also.” Jenna thought of her kids and husband.

Jenna’s car went over a small bump as she entered the long bridge. Midway through the bridge, Jenna saw a girl standing at the end. The bridge was dark. It was like a tunnel dangling over the canyon. The headlights lit up just enough of the area, to see the girl standing there.

Jenna stopped the car. She opened at the car door, stepped out of the car, and yelled, “Hello?” Her voice echoed through bridge.

No answer. Jenna slowly walked towards the motionless girl. As Jenna got closer she realized, the girl wasn’t standing she was hanging! The girl was hanging from a rope attached to the top of the bridge. Jenna screamed but her voice was frozen with terror. Jenna’s heels clicked as she ran back to her car, grabbing her phone. She dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator said in a low monotone voice.

“Hello, this is Jenna Loftening. I’m on Peak Bridge. There is a girl hanging from a rope that connected to the beams of wood above. She’s dead! The girl has blonde hair and is wearing a white dress.” Jenna yelled into the phone.

“Okay ma’am. Stay where you are,” the operator explained, “we are sending an emergency vehicle right now.”

Jenna ended the call. She looked up at the girl. She was gone. A million thoughts went through her head, thoughts about her kids, husband, and their new puppy. She wondered if she would ever see her kids again. She worried about what her kids would do without a mother as if she knew this was her few breaths. Blood pumping through her veins, sharp and short intake of air as she walked closer to the rope. Her black heels clicked against the road, click, click, click. The sound of her black slacks rubbing together with each step, Jenna could see the rope, but the girl was no longer there. The rope appeared to be moving, “Maybe just the wind,” Jenna had thought to herself, though she felt no wind.

Jenna let go off her blue and black necklace, which matched her shirt, that she had absentmindedly twirling out of a nervous habit. She reached out for the rope. As her fingers brushed across it she felt someone grab her arm. Jenna turned her head and looked over her shoulder, and there stood the girl that Jenna thought was dead, the girl that Jenna thought was hanging. She opened her mouth to let out a wailing scream. This girl still looks dead but yet she staring right at me holding onto my arm. She screamed.

Ten minutes later the police car sirens were echoing through the bridge. The police car pulled right up behind Jenna’s running car, with the driver’s door wide open.  The police officer got out of the car, his golden badge that read “Chief Dave Loftening”, matching his navy blue uniform. Dave got out of his car and slowly walked towards Jenna’s car and looked into her car. It was empty, “Hello? Anyone out here,” Dave called out but got no answer.

Dave walked closer to the end of the bridge and saw the hanging girl. Dave walked closer to the girl he realized he recognized the girl who was hanging. It was his sister-in-law, Jenna. Then Dave thought to himself, “Wasn’t it Jenna who called in reporting a hanging girl? That’s why I took this call to see if she was okay.”

Team Free Will

The Righteous Man

Who once stopped the bloodshed

Who once saved the world

Has turned

To Darkness.

He wishes to cry

To let it all out

Yet he cannot

For on the inside

He is now

Dead.

My dear boy

I am afraid

Christmas isn’t coming

No

Not this year.

 The Little Brother

Who against all odds

Shone through

And saved the world

But even the little brother

Is turning down the road

Of Darkness.

His older brother

His constant companion

Is now gone

And the little brother

Is starting to become

Lost.

My dear boy

I am afraid

Christmas isn’t coming

No

Not this year.

 The Angel of the Lord

Who was once so sure

Of his motives

Has started to question

What he believes in

And is turning

Towards the path

Of Darkness.

He was given a choice

To save his friends

Or keep his family

He chose his friends

And has paid

A very steep

Price.

And my dear boy

I am afraid

 Christmas isn’t coming

No

Not this year.

Comments, Questions, Answers.

 

My problem is anger.

My mind is foggy.

My plans have changed.

My thoughts are a mess.

 

I want to tell somebody.

I want security.

I want freedom.

I want less stress.

 

Can I not have freedom?

Can I not have a choice?

Can I “not have stress”?

Can I not be old enough?

 

Will my family understand?

Will my friends see through me?

Will my wishes come true?

Will my real self show and not get judged?

 

I can’t have freedom.

I am far too young.

My family doesn’t understand.

My friends do see through me.

 

My real self can’t show,

People would judge.

No wishes come true,

Maybe that’s why we dream.

climbing among the weeds on a hot summer day

home isn’t much of a place to grow up

there’s nothing but dust

nothing but rude people and heat,

and the cold wind that howls in the winter

the tumbleweeds on the highway, the coyotes in the streets

i didn’t grow up in home

but i became who i am there

i became who i am scrambling over black porous rock

driving under the sights of the sky

horizon to horizon

wide and open

i became who i am among the scraggling weeds

the dry bushes

the thorny knots

in wide concrete ditches

that were never full

in baking pavement streets

because there

there is nothing to distract you from yourself

there is nothing

to keep you from facing yourself

other than perhaps

the momentary occupation

of seeking

shade

Monsters

by Anonymous

Remember the stories of the monsters in the basement? Some of them you might know as the boogeyman, or something else.

What if I told you they’re real? They don’t like to be seen that's why they hide in the darkest parts of the house. As a child you were told they hide under your bed. So every night your parents would check for you.

As you get older you meet bullies and probably think the monsters consumed them. What monsters would make someone turn that cruel? Maybe it’s the abuse monster. Maybe while the bully is at home someone picks on them like they do to you.

The reality of the situation is, the monsters never really go away. They stay deep inside you. If you’re suffering from depression, you can have tons of different monsters, There’s the self harm monster telling you one more slice, one more slice, urging you on. There’s anorexia or binge eating making you feel like you’re fat and don’t really belong. There’s abandonment. Making you feel like no matter what people say they are lying. Everyone leaves in the end. Right?

One of the worst is suicidal. That one drains you of the little ounces of happiness you once had. It makes you feel like life isn't worth living. No matter what it’s every monster put together.

So how do you stop these monsters? I like to think of it as a jack-in-the-box. One monster comes and you dread on it, letting it feed off all your negative energy. Once you let it have full control the jack-in-the-box opens. Making nightmares a reality. Making you feel hopeless and completely alone.

Don’t let the darkness consume you. You might turn into the monster under your bed.

This sky is dark, but the brightness from the stars makes it easy to see.

 Waves of the river rocking the dock like a mother rocking a baby.

Stars wondering undisturbed by aircraft. A seagull, screeching for attention and love.

Fish flying out of the water, splashing back into the river, creating a ripple.

Lying under the stars, wind in my hair. The ripple being corrected by the flow of the river.

This is better than any sex I've had.

Just the sound of the water touching the bank, is better than any kiss I've received.

Colors could never be more appealing. Food never tasting any better.

This moment in time will never leave my mind. As if this is my first and last memory.

I’m falling in love. Not with a person.

 I’m falling in love with this world and what, not whom, is in it.

 Somehow, I feel like Earth itself can and does love me back.