“I- I swear, I only blinked, and- and then she was gone.”
She sat at the table trembling, head buried in her hands. The two detectives exchanged looks. One of them, a woman in her late 30’s with thick, black hair, was the first to speak.
“Ma’am, I know this is hard on you, but please. Think back to the last moments you saw your sister.”
The woman, Rachel, spoke without lifting her head, voice thick and quavering with unshed tears.
“I told you,” she said, almost pleading, “We were walking in the park. It was a little after 5:30, and we were the only ones
A woman sits alone in her kitchen, dinner for one laid out before her. Trembling hands rest in her lap, and lips softly whisper the evening prayer she'd learned soon after getting married. She looks down at her silver wedding band, then across to his empty seat. At first, a year had seemed impossibly endless, and anything longer was an unthinkable eternity. Now, two years since his deployment, there was still no word as to the end of his service. She missed him, simple as the tears rolling down her face. After so long without him, it was too easy to believe he wasn't ever coming home. But she couldn't do that to him, not after what they'd mad
Subway doors admit all kinds
of persons. I, only one in
the sea, the rolling masses.
The roar of the train drowns out
the people, the busy, impatient
people, with phones to their ears
and problems on their hands.
The rest sport smokes and bottles.
I don’t know a single face, no face
knows me. Too close for comfort but
no place else to go, the train
screeches to a stop and opens the
floodgates. Bumping, shoving,
cursing. Not that they’d care for
a stranger. An old woman with
a hunched back and nowhere
to sit doesn’t bother to ask.
She stands by me, clinging
with wrinkled hands to the
rail. One face looks up, one
with a mind
a blanket of snow
a puddle of blood
one pair of eyes watched
as innocence left
in puddles of blood
she breathed her last
and innocence left
the world altogether
she breathed her last
with a knife through her heart
the world altogether
killed the only light
with a knife through the heart
they slaughter the lambs
killing the only light
is all they’ve ever known
they slaughter the lambs
their hands grow bloodstained
it’s all they’ve ever known
how to destroy
their hands are bloodstained
they tell the story
how they destroyed
the only chance they had
they tell the story
of when they killed the girl
the only chance she had
“I- I swear, I only blinked, and- and then she was gone.”
She sat at the table trembling, head buried in her hands. The two detectives exchanged looks. One of them, a woman in her late 30’s with thick, black hair, was the first to speak.
“Ma’am, I know this is hard on you, but please. Think back to the last moments you saw your sister.”
The woman, Rachel, spoke without lifting her head, voice thick and quavering with unshed tears.
“I told you,” she said, almost pleading, “We were walking in the park. It was a little after 5:30, and we were the only ones
A woman sits alone in her kitchen, dinner for one laid out before her. Trembling hands rest in her lap, and lips softly whisper the evening prayer she'd learned soon after getting married. She looks down at her silver wedding band, then across to his empty seat. At first, a year had seemed impossibly endless, and anything longer was an unthinkable eternity. Now, two years since his deployment, there was still no word as to the end of his service. She missed him, simple as the tears rolling down her face. After so long without him, it was too easy to believe he wasn't ever coming home. But she couldn't do that to him, not after what they'd mad
Subway doors admit all kinds
of persons. I, only one in
the sea, the rolling masses.
The roar of the train drowns out
the people, the busy, impatient
people, with phones to their ears
and problems on their hands.
The rest sport smokes and bottles.
I don’t know a single face, no face
knows me. Too close for comfort but
no place else to go, the train
screeches to a stop and opens the
floodgates. Bumping, shoving,
cursing. Not that they’d care for
a stranger. An old woman with
a hunched back and nowhere
to sit doesn’t bother to ask.
She stands by me, clinging
with wrinkled hands to the
rail. One face looks up, one
with a mind
a blanket of snow
a puddle of blood
one pair of eyes watched
as innocence left
in puddles of blood
she breathed her last
and innocence left
the world altogether
she breathed her last
with a knife through her heart
the world altogether
killed the only light
with a knife through the heart
they slaughter the lambs
killing the only light
is all they’ve ever known
they slaughter the lambs
their hands grow bloodstained
it’s all they’ve ever known
how to destroy
their hands are bloodstained
they tell the story
how they destroyed
the only chance they had
they tell the story
of when they killed the girl
the only chance she had
With each passing night,
the hurt in her heart
diminishes her will
to live the coming years.
Every day, the people come,
tell her nothing but lies.
In precious hope, she lies
awake, waiting for her knight
in shining armor to come.
But heavy grows her heart
with wisdom beyond her years;
She knows he never will.
The people talk, “When will
she learn to see the lies
we’ve told all these years.”
She learned that night
hope is weakness of heart.
She would never come
to trust those who came
in kindness and goodwill.
A hard and bitter heart,
scornful towards the lies,
waited night by night
to exact revenge for years
of pretense
I’ll meet you where the music plays at night
Where white stars blanket the skies of black velvet
Our one escape from the pressures of life
Kept hidden from all by an ivy thicket
They prefer you to stay away from me
They hold me far from your “polluted blood”
You see, my love, I’ve no choice but to leave
And listen, helpless, while you’re drug through mud
But tonight, no reason to keep voices hushed
You wrap me in your arms and take my hand
When you hear the fairies’ song drift from the brush
My head on your chest, we’ll begin our dance
The steps are slow but the night’s far too quick
With hop
I haven't been on very much lately, and to all the people I'm watching, I'm so sorry I haven't commented on your work. I'm not going to be getting on for a while, but I didn't want to delete my account. I may (emphasis on may) upload something from time to time. Anyway, just saying, so you don't think I forgot all about you. ^^
So I go to a private school, so I have a different spring break than most other schools. We got out april 4 and we go back this monday, the 15th. (it's spring and easter break combined :p) anyway, to the point
I take my writing notebook to school to work on stories and stuff there(we have a lot of free time, i do anyway). and i get home from school and i'm all psyched cuz it's spring break, we're off for over a week, and i get to do some entertaining stuff. spend the rest of the day getting a haircut and going to tennis, other average things. the next day i get up and i'm looking for my notebook, and guess what?! i left it at school! me and