Sunday, September 13, 2009

Mirror Girl

Eva was having a very bad day. It seemed like every day was a bad day, but this one was particularly so. Eva had already retreated into the sanctity of her house, hiding from the world outside. She went into her bedroom, took an ivory comb off her vanity, and ran it through her tangled hair. The mirror was right in front of her, so she couldn’t help but look into it. The somber, dark-haired girl stared back at her, looking as bitter as she felt. She gently touched the reflection, admiring the way in which her actions were mirrored. It was backwards though, always backwards.

You’re lucky. She thought, but her pale counterpart didn’t respond. Maybe everything is different over there. It looked the same, but she secretly thought life must be better for the mirror girl than for her. If the furniture was backwards, then it seemed possible that other things would be also. Eva wished she could switch places, just to find out.

The wish sent a spark through her hand. She thought it was static electricity from touching the cool glass. Suddenly her fingers sunk into the mirror, up to the second knuckle. Eva let out a gasp. If she hadn’t been looking at it, she wouldn’t have believed it. Panic came first, then curiosity. She pushed her fingers to the third knuckle, and it felt pleasant, like sinking into jello. She pushed farther, until her whole arm was immersed. The expression in the mirror girl’s face urged her forward, to push her other arm in as well. Eva wondered if her wish was coming true, and felt a surge of excitement. She eagerly forced the rest of her body into the mirror, a shiver running through her body as her face pushed through the surface.

Eva was still staring at her reflection. Everything was the same, except not backwards. She had switched with the girl in the mirror, and now she was looking into her own room. It was just as she left it, but it wasn’t empty. Her counterpart still stood opposite her, still a reflection. But when Eva tried to move, she found that her body stayed motionless. Her reflection lifted a hand, still holding the brush. Eva found her arm moving against her will, perfectly copying the action.
The mirror girl smiled, her features rearranging pleasantly, and finished running the brush through her hair. She looked happy, something foreign on such a familiar face. She wished it was her own expression, but Eva was frozen, unable to move except to mimic her reflection’s actions. She couldn’t turn and look at the new world behind her. She couldn’t touch the glass to try and get back. All she could do was copy the other girl, a lifeless reflection. The mirror girl ran the brush one last time through her hair before putting it down on the vanity and turning around. She exited the room, leaving Eva all alone -- trapped.

Monday, May 18, 2009

My house is a ghost

Houses at night are lonely. Rooms suddenly become monstrous caves, ceilings shadowed and hidden. The black windows stare inward like monstrous pupils, allowing unknown creatures to observe the mysteries of abandoned lives. Its the worst feeling to walk through a room at night, feeling a tingling in your spine and knowing that if you turn you'll catch a pale face staring through the inky glass.
Even though there are people asleep in the bedrooms the place has a feeling of complete abandonment, and the tingling makes a person want to hop the last few feet and run into a protected room. These rooms must be well-lit, and not with harsh fluorescent light. This light is a magical force-field, stemming the muddy shadows that threaten safety. There are also no peeping windows, staring at you as your striped pajamas barely guard your vulnerable, lonely body.
Perhaps the soul is otherwise occupied during sleep, leaving fragile eggshells that are no better than the inanimate furniture they slumber on. And people left awake are actually all alone in the cavernous home, free to wander but cursed to solitude until joining the swirling mist of twining dreams.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Vans Warped Tour '09

http://www.warpedtour.com/warpedtour/bands.asp

A Day to Remember
Attack Attack
Breathe Carolina
Chiodos
Flogging Molly
The Devil Wears Prada
Thrice
Underoath


I will see these bands, and it will be amazing. Then I'll write a poem about it. Viola!

Telling Secrets - otherwise titled, This Isn't About Who You'd Think

I’m keeping this secret
Even from you
If I tell then it becomes real
Stop reading


I’d like to cry
But you’re lucky
Someone already broke that
Invisible tear ducts

My eyes are dry
But heart wet
Blood tears hidden from everyone
Except me

I’m screaming in pain
Silent frozen pain
I told you I was tough
You think I’m fine

I don’t tell people
How much it hurts
There’s a broken piece inside
It’s catching the blood

I have a smile
Brittle and cheerful
Don’t tear off that smile
Or the scream escapes

It’s not your fault
It’s mine
I’ll take the blame until I break
I like you happy

Friday, April 24, 2009

Playing in the Rain

Sunny splatter silly spots
Cloudy candy bubble drops
Muddy shoes and wrinkled toes
Plastered hair and dripping nose
Tickly grass and shivery skin
Playful river and reflected twin
Charcoal eyes and foggy cheeks
Umbrella waltz and slippery streets
Dance twirl spin splash
Skip trip fall laugh
Peeking sun and trickly stream
Soaked carpet and shower steam

Monday, April 20, 2009

The Tartan Ban

High grassy hills bereaved of color
Men and boys plain and dull
Lores and tradition banned
Closed away in chests
Colored squares in crested boxes
Once emblems of freedom
Now locked in hiding
A crushed and wrinkled spirit
Stained red with the blood of warriors
Dyed with the ink of independence

Open the box
Remove the plaid of bravery
A forgotten moment released
Revealed to unborn patriots
Woven stronger than kings
Legend and romance renewed
A clan to each color
A history to a fallen people
Once again the symbol of freedom
Reborn in changed lands

Bitter Reflections

Did you know your lips would hurt me
Did you realize I don’t want to be used
Are you so self-absorbed that you don’t care
I made mistakes and you made some too
At least my mistakes were honest
I know they’re mistakes now

Don’t paint it pretty and tear it down
Don’t tell me a lie and say it’s true
Stop trying to make me feel better
I just want to be so over you

You think it’s a punctuation point
I think it’s a whole sentence
In a paragraph of my life
Was it just a big joke to you
Sometimes I want to hate you
But the hate won’t come
Why is a friendship so breakable
Why do you think it’ll be fixed
I like it broken

Don’t paint it pretty and tear it down
Don’t tell me a lie and say it’s true
Stop trying to make me feel better
I just want to be so over you

I hope she kisses you with lips so pretty
Razor sharp teeth
There’ll be holes in your heart
And I’ll take back the piece of mine
It looks like innocence

  © Blogger template 'Bean' by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP