NaPoWriMo: Narcissus

He ran his fingers over his smooth skin
breathing in long and slow
his lids closing and eyes rolling back.

Tracing his body he found his way
to the back of his neck
the coolness of hand sent shivers down his spine.

He smiled, opening his eyes
he sprawled out to examine the perfection
of his long thin body in the mirrored wall.

He pulled himself closer to the reflection
staring into his beautiful blue eyes,
he reached out longingly to touch the cheek.

His hand hit the cold glass
and he let out a devastating sigh
as water filled his crystal eyes.

NaPoWriMo: Losing Innocence

I wish I had
Stolen
candy bars
and
broke in
to the neighbor’s
pool.

I wish I had
Ditched class
to smoke weed
and pull pranks
with my friends.

I wish I had
Disappointed
my parents
for sneaking out
or coming home past curfew.

I wish I had.

Instead
I cheated
to save myself
from a life
of suffocation
and learned it a
valuable
tool.

Instead,
I whored
myself out
to save
the stranger’s
pride
and
sacrificed
all self-respect.

Instead
I lied
and lied some more
carrying the burden
in my heart
for some one else
to break free
and hurt themselves
on my lost innocence.

NaPoWriMo: Morning Senses

* Skipped the prompt

The sun peaks
through the cracks
in the blinds
like a whisper
that catches the wind
at just right moment
to carry the words
to my ears,
waking me
from my slumber
just as I fell
through the chocolate clouds
on the other side
I smell
the fresh mocha
brewing.
I breathe in the richness
of the morning
and my body
seems to float
toward the kitchen
where a cup
awaits my sip.

NaPoWriMo: Impossible Places

That familiar lump
appeared in my throat
as I pulled the bar stool
toward the top of the stairs
facing the front door,
lifted my frail body
up on the seat
and waited
with the puppy
at my feet.
Tugging
at my purple leotard
and black velvet shorts.

My tears were blurring
the car lights
as they passed in the street
my heart beat faster
My skin crawling
with goosebumps
Mind,
wandering
to every impossible
place.

She’d walk in –
late –
my body would
relax
and I’d blink
my eyes clear
forcefully
swallow the lump.

“What are you doing,”
she’d laugh,
catching me
in this awkward
stance.

“Just waiting,”
I’d aggressively urge.
“We’re late.”
But I’d hug her
a little longer
at the top of the stairs.
Before hurrying her along.

NaPoWriMo: Let’s Play

“Zoom, zoom”
Oh no,
they go “Vroom, Vroom.”
As they zoom
across the room.

No tracks, no roads,
just the hard wood floor
that sends
them flying into the wall.

Crash, bang, boom,
“Wee-ooo, Wee-ooo,”
comes the white and blue
to solve the crime
just in the nick of time.

But, we leave them a mess,
because oh goodness
it’s time for the barn house
animal dance.

“Moo, Moo”
and hullabaloo.
You dance too
to the cock-a-doodle-doo.

But, just before the baa baa blues,
we’re singing a new tune
that goes 3-2-1
ready or not,
here I come.

Searching high and low,
are you here or there,
No sign yet,
But I’ll find you somewhere.
Behind the couch,
No, in the tub,
caught in a crouch.

I found you!
I shout.
But you’re fast asleep
fully tuckered out.
so I carefully pick you up,
you open your eyes,
but I lay you in bed
and gently rub your head.

Tomorrow, we’ll twist and twirl
but it’s time to sleep baby girl.
I whisper, Good night little one,
We’ll wake with the rising sun.

NaPoWriMo: Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa

Exhausted, yet satisfied
from his scheming
and successful manipulation
of the little lion cub
Scar laid on the cool, hard ground
and let his eyes sink shut.

But, beneath the dark of his lids,
all he could see was Mufasa’s
strong golden body
and furious red mane.

Even in helplessness,
his brother’s glossy yellow eyes,
burned straight to his blackened heart,
jolting him awake.

He dragged his frail body
off the clay earth
let out his most dramatic,
r-o-a-r
in every effort
to scare the image out of his mind.

In all his perfection,
Mufasa
remained at the front of his mind.
Tears filled Scar’s envious green eyes –
not out of regret,
nor sympathy,
but out of pure agony.

For he realized,
even in death,
Mufasa
still had all the control
of his life.

While, Mufasa left a legacy,
he
would leave
nothing more
than a scar
on the Kingdom.

 

NaPoWriMo: Don’t Slow Down

*Skipped the prompt today as I was inspired by something else.

Depression runs young in my family
but so did I.

To the playground across the field,
the half mile to school.
Even my dad knew I was a runner early on.
His brother used to call me “Legs”
cause well, I was 3/4 legs
and those legs never stopped moving.

Depression runs young in my family,
but I guess I ran just a little faster.

Because aside from the dramatic
journal entries of a preteen,
everything says I was a happy kid.

I was quiet in class, yeah,
but as soon as that bell rang,
I was out there running, and shouting, and laughing
and playing Magic on the playground
with my best friends.

I loved school, and I was good at it.
I got noticed for my creative writing,
my speedy calculations,
and my diverse skills in gym class.

In sixth grade, when I was the fastest girl
to run the mile and a half
during fitness testing,
I got recruited for cross-country.
I didn’t know what it was.
But somebody wanted ME.

I started training the next day.
Running the mile to and from school.
I would ask my sister to bike alongside me
so I had someone to keep up with.
On the weekends,
my mom would come to the track with me.
She’d stand in the middle with a stopwatch
as I ran around and around and around.

We both cheered when I got a new PR,
and when I didn’t,
I would go again.

Those next summers I ran every 5k, 8k and 10k
road race in a 30 mile radius.
And my medals clanked together
every time I opened my bedroom door.

Depression runs young in my family.
But I guess I was just too quick.

It almost caught me freshman year,
when I got plowed over by a rollerblader
and ran 3 miles with blood dripping
from my knees to my toes.
The injury left me wavering
as an alternate for Varsity.

My sister had gone away to college
and things were uneasy at home.
I found myself sneaking out of class
to clear my eyes after getting a rash text.
But, there wasn’t anything I could do
so I forced a smile.

After all, I was the happy kid.
I loved high school, and I was good at it.
Not just the learning, though
I did love
Mr. Hill’s essay tests and
playing elementary spelling games
in Spanish class.
But what I mean is, the balancing.
I had a boyfriend, a best friend,
a Letterman’s jacket filling up with pins
and As across the board.

I was golden.

I was a good Christian girl,
and even after abandoning those views
at 18 years old,
I still wouldn’t touch alcohol
until my 21st birthday.
But, it didn’t take long before I had my first black out.
It was terrifying,
especially when I found out someone
was trying to get me there.
Who does that to a person? I’d thought.

I was much more careful after that
drinking a full glass of water between each drink.
I was smart. I liked the buzz.
But I wasn’t about to be hungover.
I was too busy finishing senior year,
editing the student newspaper,
and working two part-time jobs.

Depression runs young in my family
but it took awhile to catch up to me.

Maybe it was that first half marathon
that really slowed me down.
You know, 13.1 miles
can really take a toll.

It was the next day that I found out about his suicide.
Just two afternoons after I hugged him at our commencement speech.
Only three days after I hurried past him in the courtyard
to avoid a conversation I just didn’t have the time of day for.
It was his birthday yesterday, he would have turned 28.

It was the day before I moved
to a new apartment for a new job
in a new city where I didn’t know a soul.

A city that was finally close enough for you to visit
we’d talked about it for months.
we didn’t have any plans, but we were sure to get some laughs
because you always made me laugh.

But two weeks after I ran that half marathon,
moved to a new city, started a new job,
I got a call from my best friend, your cousin.

You were gone, she said.

It was a motorcycle accident.
You might have been racing a friend,
but I guess it didn’t really matter.
Your wheels slid on some loose gravel
and I never saw you again.

No, I didn’t look at your lifeless face
in the casket.
I couldn’t.

Maybe I should have.
Because month’s after you were gone
I was still pulling out my phone
with a giant smile on my face
ready to text you about a visit.
I never quite got to hitting send –

reality would hit
and every time
it was like getting that call all over again.

Depression runs young in my family.
And eventually I wasn’t fast enough anymore.

I’d blame the 32Ds and asthma
for slowing me down.
But turns out the depression just had more fuel.

It hit strong and unexpected
Like running into an invisible brick wall.

Those blackouts I’d tried so hard to avoid,
were becoming common place
and not just on Friday and Saturday night,
I took any excuse I could get to leave my lonely apartment
and have a drink.
And when you work at a newspaper,
there is ALWAYS an excuse to get a drink.
And a drink never really means a drink.

I’d find myself down by the river
at dawn and wonder how I got there.

It stung when my mom said I was just like my dad.
I wouldn’t speak to her for awhile.
But I’d slide in his CD on my drive across town.
His voice set to those old folk tunes
I knew by heart seemed to be the only thing I could count on.

So, when a bump in the road
scratched my CD
I lost it.

Depression runs young in my family.
And I guess it’s got some endurance.

Because 5 years later, I’m here
on the other side of the country
training for a full marathon
hoping I can finally out run this thing.

NaPoWriMo: Stages & Different Pages

I was staying up late, fueled solely by sugar-filled Energy drinks,
with my head in the books, as they say.

But really my head was perched upon one hand
the other, set on the keyboard,
finger tapping the “J” as I read and reread my lead,
trying to drum some life into my words.

While she was sipping a light-beer in a country bar
with a man twice her age, as they say.

But really she was only a third-less his,
Wearing a new pair of the old flares,
and the same faux-suede shoes she’d soon slip-off
to slide on the dance floor in her socks.

Later, I would slip out of the newsroom
to answer my phone in the quiet college hall.
And return with a silent wonder,
Or a buzzing worry, rather.
But I hadn’t time to think of matters
not worthy of my front page.

So while she was becoming a mother
to one, and two and four,
I was chugging a glass of water
between 2-for-1 long islands
trying my best to keep a dizzy-head
level on the crowded dance floor.

She’d be passed out
in an old wooden rocker
for the brief silent moment
between the many midnight wakings.

And I, would wake to a friend jumping on our bed
and hold tight to the sheet –
the only thing between his feet
and our tangled limbs.

While she was growing her family,
one by one by one, and eventually two,
I was learning to manage my own team
of six self-deprecating stylists
and trying my best to love them
as she loved hers.

NaPoWriMo: A Minuscule Matter

The humming of the engines had dulled
and the birds had sang their last note
Finally alone, she had found herself
cross-legged on the small shag rug
in the middle of the hard wood floor.

Setting the timer to 10 minutes,
she slid the phone out of reach.

Taking a deep breath in,
she let her eyes sink shut
with the exhale.
Keeping her focus on the air
flowing in
and out,
relaxing her body more with each breath.

Her ears caught a slight buzz
and she sensed she wasn’t alone.
Without letting her mind wander,
she honed in to the murmur
and listened as the sound
appeared to grow louder and louder.

A dozen mosquitoes
waiting in the woodwork
while she focused
on the in
and the out
of the air flow.

Approaching only when they sensed
the being had reached
a sense of zen.

She was there,
and they were here –
buzzing around their prey
like a vulture ready to devour
a decaying carcass.

But she was far from dead.
In her meditation,
she could feel
the infinitesimal shift in air
from the minuscule beings
rapidly moving their tiny wings,
encircling her still body.

She could sense their slowly
closing distance
from her goose-bump arms
and hair-raised neck.
She could feel
each of their six little legs
making contact with her skin.

She could feel the sharp prick
as the proboscis punctured her
like a needle into the arm
but she didn’t clench her muscle
or swat the nuisance away.

Every second felt as though
it last a minute
feeling the blood
slowly leave her body
through the microscopic hole
in her skin.

She could almost see
the little being growing
ever so slightly
as the blood filled the vessel.

And just as the crime
had been committed
the alarm sounded
and they fled
leaving the body a bloody mess
awoken from her trance
she set her eyes on the scene
and assessed the damage.

 

NaPoWriMo: Magic

My eyes caught hers
like a fast pitch
into a catcher’s mitt.
The sting blinded me
and sent my mind
wandering to another world.

A world where
colorful confetti
danced in the air
and eyes twinkled
like stars
illuminating the night sky.

Lover’s hearts
tore from their chests
disappearing into the clouds
like helium balloons
let go too soon.

The sunset fell
like a warm blanket
on the village
and the constellations
sang a sweet lullaby
putting them to sleep.

They only woke
when at dawn
a freckled fawn
would bless them with a kiss
upon the heart
and wake their soul
from wildness.