Neighbors

19731899_10209655775657971_5749092506553919200_nHanna smiles, standing with one arm tucked under the other. She sips from her large coffee mug, smacking her lips at the slight bitter taste. The sun climbs up in the sky, beaming down on their small town. The people on the street outside all stay bundled in large jackets, bracing themselves against the cold wind.

A young mom pulls her front door shut behind her, herding two small children to the car. Hanna raises her hand, waiving at the woman through the window. She’s greeted by a wide smile and an enthusiastic wave.

Hanna watches the car drive away, her throat suddenly feeling tight. The house looks relaxed, as if it were yawning after it’s crazy family leaves for the day. Hanna looks down the street to see an older boy riding his bike to school, fighting the morning wind. Hanna sighs and takes another long sip from her coffee mug.

A cat rubs against Hanna’s leg and she bends down to pet the animal’s soft fur. “Good morning, Georgie,” she greets. “Did you sleep last night?”

Continue reading

A Game

15590037_10211707848635793_58361140296266066_n“Let’s play a game.”

“That sounds eerie.”

“No, it’ll be a fun game.”

“Alright, how does it go?”

“I spend every moment of my day loving who you are, and all you have to do is let me.”

“That’s not a game.”

“You just have to be yourself. Then you win the game.” Continue reading

Lights

fcb7651cef295f22606766ced9ab6784It was almost 10:30. I’d been driving for hours, 13 hours go be exact, when the sky started to sparkle. One after another sparks of color shot into the sky and exploded in a puff of glittering light. I was enamored.

I watched the fireworks, eyes drifting from the road. They were so… random. It was the beginning of march, no date the world was celebrating. No reason to use such an extravagant form of celebration.

I watched them in the distance sparkle, shout, and explode. I had to reach them soon, right? I was driving towards them. They had to come from somewhere.

Continue reading

Dear Future

14884702_10207637245595981_384251857058761294_o“Look ahead” they say. “It only will get better.”

They warn you about being stuck in your past, encourage you to move on to the future.

Well, You’re my future.

But you have to know about my past.  Finding yourself, being true to who you are and who you want, is the most difficult thing you’ll ever do.

At least that’s the case in my story.

I thought it would be great.  Continue reading

Flower Me Angry

15941107_10208257309377188_4801604402307860374_nI really love succulents.

I was never a big “flower person”. I’m still not. I love nature and I love flowers and greenery and gardens but I don’t know a lot about them. I don’t know the different flowers or what type thrives and which climate. For the longest time I didn’t even have an answer to the question “what’s your favorite flower?” Because the only flowers I could think of were roses and daisies and those weren’t my favorites.

But I’ve finally found my answer to that question and that’s succulents.

I always thought that your favorite flower was a good way to know the kind of person you are. Continue reading

HERS.

14352270_951674774956083_3263135980559809627_oTherapy. Doctors. Endless conversations. Even a hypnotist once.

“You’re in shock.” “You’ve experienced great tragedy and loss.” “Trauma plagues you every day.” “You need help.” “What you’ve experienced follows you every day.” “You’re demons will never leave you.” “Broken, you’re broken.”

Broken. Broken. Broken.

I don’t remember what it’s like to have a normal beating heart. Most people don’t think about it. The way your heart thumps in your chest. Most normal people don’t realize every pump of blood being surged through your body. Continue reading

his.

14324224_951674698289424_6069276409962481787_oIt was a Friday. Which Friday doesn’t matter. Any Friday. All Fridays. Every Friday.

Every day.

Pounding. That’s what I remember before anything else. The pounding in my head. It was like all my memories, all my desires, all my relationships I had stored away, were thrashing around in my head, fighting to get free.

I needed someone to talk them down.

I need peace. Continue reading

My Mighty Leopard.

13301372_10209858882252789_1657476168247963656_oHer voice purred, lingering in my ears more than the loudest song. She blinked, eyelashes painting her cheek in a swift motion. I watched her skin pull against her muscles, screaming strength and scaring away cowardice. She walked with grace, feet constantly balanced, aware of the world around her.

You’re unsure if you should approach, her beauty intimating you into surrender. Your body screams at you to reach out, touch her, feel her soft coat under your fingertips. You hold your hand back, clenching it into a fist to stifle the desire. She bares her teeth and you take a step back. She dares you to come closer, enter her space, become one in her world. Try it. Try to tame her.

I dare you.

She is pure, clean, and fierce, a beautiful contradiction. A being of opposites. A creature of habit afraid of change. She is gentle, strong, cautious and brave. Her soft purr is louder than the most powerful roar.

She watches me, making me want to stand up straight and follow her into a den of danger. I would give her my life. Allow her to move me forward. Close my eyes. Blindly follow. She smiles, glistening teeth brighter than stars. Magnificent beauty that I can’t seem to wrap into words.

 

Fortune.

12377819_10206077807851012_3174284282398303952_o

Something you lost will soon turn up.

Yesterday’s fortune cookie.

I’m not one to easily believe fortune cookies. I mean, they are cookies. Not even tasty cookies, if I’m being honest. Usually I open the cookie just to laugh at the fortune, maybe jump back to my twelve-year-old days and add ‘in bed’ at the end to get a good laugh. This time, I needed to believe the fortune.

Something you lost…

This could be anything. It had to be something. I lost my watch last week. That thing is more expensive than my wife. If she knew I lost it, she would kill me. Continue reading

Fight or Flight?

blog1“Max! Max! Ms. Burnsky said we have a meeting. Do you think someone is coming to meet us?” I yelled, throwing open the door to our small bedroom. Max was laying on her back, hands crossed over her stomach, staring at the ceiling. She looked like she was waiting for death. It was freaky. I poked at her. “Max…”

“Leave me alone, Ash. I’m tired.”

“But, Max… Ms. Bur-”

“I don’t care what she said.”

“What if someone wants to meet us?”

“No one wants to meet us, Ash. No one ever does.” Continue reading