Silence

As the clouds part and the sun glows a hazy auburn and crimson combination, the skies become sapphire and the entire earth glows a first day of spring glow. The glow cannot be expressed into the hearts of the unseeing, but molds into everyone that is blessed with its sight. This shine can’t be explained with words, or felt with any sense of feeling. Nothing matches up to its beauty, and those that are present under its reign are reminded of the hopeful day composed of new life that came one year before. Earth tones mix with violets and make up the exuberant colors seen all over this new spring day.
On this day a young man carries a single red rose to the doorstep of a greenish blue two story home. He carries this rose with a faceless expression, and a three ton weight in the depths of his chest. Just before the second knock, the door opens and an outline of an accustomed woman waves this young man in. Before he can shut the door behind him she walks away.
“I brought you a rose” he says, following the dark silhouette.
“I see that” replies a dull, monotone voice.
The young man hears her talking, but stops where he stands. This distant sound filled without emotion is foreign to the young man’s eardrums. He doesn’t recall the face behind that voice. It’s unlike any noise he’s heard in quite a while, and now that the outline spreads and the figure becomes visible in the dimly lit cracks of the drapery, he acknowledges that this is not the woman he was with just two days before. The pain behind that monotonous smile shows clear as the glass above the white paint of the window sill. The anger in her eyes gleam fiery and hot as a blue flame on the tip of a burning torch.
“I’m sorry” says the young man.
“No you’re not” follows that voice.
“How is he?”
“Not very good thanks to you” the burning voice whispers.
“I just came to say sorry. I guess I’ll just leave.”
Silence.
The young man turns to the door, setting the rose on this white window sill.
“Wait” the girl commands faintly.
“Why? You don’t want me here.”
Silence.
“I’ll stay, but only if you’re normal for five minutes.”
Silence.
It’s finally ruptured when the young man grabs at the girl, pulling her towards him, pressing her body tightly against his chest.
“I love you” he says.
Silence.
The emotionless expression on this young man’s face is morphed when all hope is pried from his bloody beaten knuckles and is replaced with a soft and irregular shaped red object, torn in two and left for the wild animals to feed on. He places the object where it belongs and locks it away, never to allow it be let loose again. This young man turns around and a hand grabs for his. One final kiss lasts fifteen seconds and he heads out the door and into his impala, never to return again.
In the pits of this impala, where no external sounds can pierce the darkly tinted windows or the dusty silver paint, a CD left in the deck plays beginning at track 1. Only the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata poor out the speakers as the young man’s Impala floats across the pavement. This young man looks up into the eyes of a beautiful day and a faceless expression returns to his face. A euphoric look covers the pain and self-pity. Acceptance of what is and what will be shows through his sorrow.
As the clouds part and the sun glows a hazy auburn and crimson combination, the skies become sapphire and the entire earth glows a first day of spring glow. The glow cannot be expressed into the hearts of the unseeing, but molds into everyone that is blessed with its sight. This shine can’t be explained with words, or felt with any sense of feeling. Nothing matches up to its beauty, and those that are present under its reign are reminded of the hopeful day composed of new life that came one year before. Earth tones mix with violets and make up the exuberant colors seen all over this new spring day.
A stoplight turns from the green grass to yesterday’s yellow sun. Then, it turns to the glowing tint of this new spring day and the entire world halts. Residents are left frozen and cars are left on pause. Everything is silent except the sound of an engine accelerating as a dusty silver Impala with tinted windows drifts over the road. It doesn’t stop or slow down before the light. It doesn’t stop or slow down until passing this hazy auburn/crimson light. This floating silver Impala goes from zero to ninety degrees before coming to a complete stop with its wheels facing a hazy auburn and crimson son and a three ton semi truck pinned inside it.
No sounds pierce the darkly tinted windows or the dusty silver paint of the Impala. The screaming cannot penetrate the barriers of this scrap metal and the blaring sirens are on mute. Five minutes pass and the paramedics come to analyze the accident. They discover a faceless young man without expression. This young man’s chest is crushed against the pavement by the three ton semi truck and a CD in the deck is still repeating track 1. The young man is holding a soft and irregular shaped red object. What is left of his heart is found lying in this young man’s bloody and beaten hands.
Silence.

My First Ride remix

She’s on that corner again. Stalking from a distance, I listen.
“Good for nothing cougar”, he kicks her. “Costing me money”
With bills at my cuticles, I walk. Alone, she hums in her bra and skirt. I touch her smooth, warm body, and see right through her.
Finally my first ride, I drive away slowly.

#105

#105. Stop what you are doing and listen for one minute. Write the thoughts you had during this activity.

A fire breathing dragon chases a miniature mouse in sub-zero temperatures. The dragon manuevers around large mountains covered in snow, ice bergs, and a blizzard that the mouse seems to be immune to. After days of sprinting, the mouse decides it's tired of running and turns around to face its foe. "YOU SHALL NOT PA-" and the mouse is burnt to a crisp. Moral of the story- avoid dragons.

My First Ride

She’s on that corner again. Stalking from a distance, I listen.

“Good for nothing cougar”, he kicks her. “Costing me money”

I start walking, money in hand. Alone, she hums in her bra and skirt.

My hand touches her smooth, warm body, and I see right through her.

She’s my first ride,

my first car.

An Average Day in Mrs. Hoekman's Class-Revised

an average day:
paper airplane
doodle in my notebook
boy with a runny nose
pencil
tardy slip
shouting from the hallway
an untied shoe
boring lecture
chalk on chalkboard
an unforgiving bladder
__And her.

her scent is locked into memory
__an early sunrise on a new spring day smell
____that flavorful hair speaks fluent love

____her smile etched into the back of my eyelids
__with every dream I am blessed with her sillhouette
__with every blink I am born again

____an immoral love that even I joke about
______this magnetic pull as we grow nearer

________the large hand ticks slowly around her
__________time is an artifact under her controlling

____yet

a podium stands as a mountain in my way
her diamond as an ocean

just another student
an average day

I Love You

Love
it’s just a four letter word for how much I Hate you

with your disgustingly soft skin
your hair, brown like rotted tree bark
and your eyes its dirt stained cousins

I’m sick of the way you’re always grinning
smiling at the crappy jokes I wipe my ass on
following every sentence with that stupid giggle

the taste of your pine flavored breath gags my lungs
your sight alone punches me in the kidney
and a single waft from that engaging perfume is all I need to slip into a deadly coma

your tongue’s too wet

your hair’s too soft

I hope you know I ralphed my colon the last time your supple lips touched mine

I hate the feelings you give me as much as

I hate a flock of birds gathering on a cool autumn day, when every tree no longer conforms breaking off into beauty, and the animals collect nature’s garbage recycling in their own way. I hate you almost as I hate the early crimson sunset mixing with the velvety sun, the trees that bend with the breeze, and the grass that sways along. I hate you like a juniper hates the cold and a bird hates the juniper berries. Like the bee hates the flower and the flower hates it back

I wish I could tell you how much I Hate you,

But

It’s so much easier just to tell you, “I Love You”