sjsprWriting

I glanced at my phone, unsure of what to reply, my eyes watering.

"I think you deserve better." 

I didn't know how to answer that. 

"At this rate, I don't think anything will come my way," I finally wrote back. 

"Let yourself believe that. Wait. Let someone fight for you." 

"I don't think anyone will. I mean this is not a pity party. It's just what I think."

"Don't... Please.

You're an amazing person."

"You are, too. I just d...

Wasted Moments and School

I'm confused about pretty much everything. Being a senior means you've reached the highest level of a place that has been your "home" for four years. This High School period in our lives is so crucial, yet I'm afraid it has been wasted. Truth it, from the looks of it, my generation is not one of intellectual thinkers; rather it is one of forced ideas and expectations that are way too high for most mortals. Play sports, crea...

The rooftop was always pleasant in the fall.

Remnants of memories left behind, collecting over the ashen floors that ceased before a pair of mercurial railings. With every day that passed, the more memories that were orphaned: favorite toys, detached mouths singing lullabies, an old swing set or feet being tickled by the tide. They were all so lost, these moments without a home, disconnected from time. Their gentle, naive hums could be heard in drones through...

“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.”-Edgar Allan Poe

We deny ourselves, I think. We hide and we bury the parts of ourselves we think are too ugly for this world to understand. But no one can keep it up forever. Eventually it all comes bursting out like shrapnel and the bodies hit the floor faster than you can scream, “Run.”

I ...

On one side, she thought of drugs, sex, and women. She'd embrace the ideal of equality and freedom. She was a rebel advocating human rights. Flashing her boobs to a crowd of men. Making out with girls in front of others. Hiding in a bathroom to snort a line of coke. She wanted to make a statement. 

But, she was confined to the morals she was raised with.

She'd speak up against gay rights. Drugs frightened her. Still a virgin. Never been kissed. Many admired her for her purity...

Parts of my grandfather

I wonder about how my grandfather was when he was young. If he fell in love with a girl when he was sixteen, and if he told her. I think about the girl he couldn't get off his mind and if she was kind and smart and pretty, and I hope she was more than her physical aspect.  I wonder if she loved him back. If wonder if he looks at his reflection in the mirror, and is proud of what he sees and his choices. I hope he made the right choices even when making the w...

He surprises you by saying, You never used to look at me like that, and you look at him.

The way you’re looking at me right now, he says, and you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

You want to explain. You want to tell him that you can’t look at a person the same after you’ve seen him dead, and you’ve seen him like that. You still see him dead in the worst of your dreams: his empty eyes are the reason your nightmares wear his face. ...

When she feels the hand hesitate over her back, she cringes but smirks, because fuck it, she knew this would happen it always happens. She knows the sight of the scars littering her body shock, and she remembers a time in her life where she used to cry in shame, but its gotten to a point where the shame has become a mute numb in the back of her head. This person isn't the first she's brought home with the intention of having them make her forget (only to have the o...

They had nothing to say to each other, at least not anymore. Everything that needed to be said had been said. The furry on his face showed it all. The satisfaction on hers completed it. You couldn’t have called it love from the start. The stolen glances and shy brushes meant almost nothing compared to this. The way she could get him so fired up over one tiny thing she said. The tinted red skin on his cheeks surpassed even the most vib...

Millions of diamonds fell that day

Coming not from the mines but from many eyes,

Reflecting flashing lights off worried faces

Not as durable but still as heavy,

Falling down on the concrete paved with memories

Many diamonds fell that day,

Flooding from their eyes and falling from the skies

But none fell as far as those two tiers

With out warning, or any goodbyes

On that day many eyes turned to...