|
|
Falling_Story #1
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Falling Story #1
Can you blame a girl for falling?
“All is fair in true love and gym class,” she claims as she runs out onto the muddy,
rain soaked soccer field.
Her friends laugh at her excitement,
“It’s only gym!” they shout but it falls on deaf ears.
The teams are made, the whistle blown,
the game begins.
With seven kids on each team
they are still uneven.
The rest stand around, uncaring
while the game becomes
two boys vs. one girl,
she’s getting frustrated.
He’s got the ball,
she runs and slides,
taking him down with her.
The ball bounces away, they just laugh
covered in mud and suddenly
very interested in each other.
Can you blame a girl for falling
for the guy she made fall for her first?
(written for the livejournal community falling_stories
http://community.livejournal.com/falling_stories/ )Labels: cross post, livejournal, poetry
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
Seven & Seventeen
Monday, May 26, 2008
Seven
Waking up early on a Saturday morning wasn’t weird
because I wanted to beat my brother to the chair in front of the TV.
Eating Cocoa Puffs drowned in milk while watching Road Runner escape the Coyote.
You walked in and stole me from my chair
careful not to spill my now chocolaty milk.
I giggle and stare at the silver ring on your lip.
Tickling me always gets a scream and a squirm, and I fight back,
failing to push you away.
I always hated you for being so much bigger than me.
Stupid seventeen year olds.
Hours pass with me curled on your lap,
Bugs Bunny now the only thing we’re looking at.
You told me I’d grow up to be like you
“…with lip rings like me and dyed hair…”
I laugh at how silly that seems.
“See you later baby doll.”
I waved my goodbye, too caught up in the TV to say it.
Seventeen
Who told me the monsters were gone and sang me to sleep?
The boy who slipped away too soon
sterling attached to his chapped lips.
The last thing you said to me was “baby doll”
and I miss the sound of it.
I wish I’d said goodbye but I was laughing as Daffy Duck declared Duck Season.
Stupid seven year olds.
Ten years are almost gone but he can’t see me now.
Wish he could see me
growing up to be like him.Labels: poetry
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
Intro to my current project
Friday, May 23, 2008
Hey everyone, this is the opener to my current project which I've been calling "Alexandra Lynn's Boys" although the title is subject to change (mostly because I feel I can never title things.)
Let me know what you think!
--
I was the only virgin left. It was crazy how much attention that got. Because I was a virgin no one could understand why men stayed in relationships with me. Each guy was different in terms of how I kept them around. Some stayed on their own, hoping that with enough wining and dining I’d give in but others wanted more physical contact. But in the end the ultimate refusal of sex is why they all left me.
Truth be told though, I didn’t need those guys. I had four best friends who took care of me in every way. They took me to dinner, watched chick-flicks with me, bought me flowers, etc. However these weren’t the run of the mill supportive girls you could expect a young girl to have. They weren’t girls, they were men.
Everyone suspected that I had dated them at one point. These guys were in my heart and I knew that it was too dangerous to date them. If I dated them I’d surely lose it all just for them, giving in far too easily because I could trust them. I did give in a few times to short dates and in one case, a steady relationship but got out before things got too intense.
No one understood why I refused to have sex. There were two reasons; I hadn’t fallen in love yet and I was far too self conscious of my body to share it.
You’re probably wondering, like everyone else, that if I found four perfect guys who I could trust and who were in my heart, why couldn’t I date them? The reason is exactly that. I cared for them and I could trust them, even with my body. They’d all seen my body, broken and bruised and instead of taking advantage they held me and comforted me. They’ve saved me from a lifetime of nightmares and even death on a few occasions.
If you’re interested in hearing more then keep reading, if not … fuck you.
--
Comments? Criticisms? Opinions? All very appreciated.Labels: novel, prose, writing
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
Welcome Post
Welcome to my blog. This is all about my writing and I will post everything from poetry and prose to song lyrics and maybe a fan fiction. The "About" section can be explained like this.
About: "It may be schizophrenia and prostitution(with the occasional ransom note) but it's better then wrestling alligators"
This idea was taken from these quotes:
“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”-E.L. Doctorow
“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.”-Moliere
“I have always believed that writing advertisements is the second most profitable form of writing. The first, of course, is ransom notes...”-Phillip Dusenberry
“Writing is the hardest way of earning a living, with the possible exception of wrestling alligators.”-Olin Miller
---
So read what I write, comment & criticize if you wish, I'd just like to use this as a way to put my writing out there and for a way to gain feedback.
See you between the lines...
-xFireSpritex-
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
