Blackbird

                       

            Everyone in the house is sound asleep besides except for one person Jude Rivers sits on his lonely window sill, staring outside at the cold black sky.  The clock reads 1:49 A.M. Jude can’t fall asleep for the life of him. It had been that way since last year. He could never forget what happened on that devastating night. That night of February 20^th, silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon, and the Blackbird came and took his best friend, Amelia Pope’s life

Jude never cried but always thought about the Blackbird that took her life. Now he stares out his window at night thinking about all the lives that had been taken by that same blackbird. It has a real name. Jude refuses to speak its real name.

 Jude leaves his window sill and opens the door quietly, making sure no one knows he is awake and thinking deep thoughts. Most of the time Jude’s thoughts get the best of him. He over thinks, he turns negative; he goes to a dark place. No one knows how much he thinks of the Blackbird.  He never knew how much Amelia was thinking about blackbird till she wrote a poem calling it that. That same night she was gone.  Jude always felt depressed, with both of his older brothers away in the army, his step sister molesting him when he was younger, and his step mom and dad always being away.

 No one would miss him, he thought, besides Amelia and a few others at school, and Amelia was gone forever.  Amelia wasn’t just his best friend. They loved each other. They had known each other since they were six.  No one really knew that they loved each other. Everyone just thought they were friends. Amelia knew how awful Jude’s life was. Jude knew Amelia’s mom and dad had left her with her aunt and uncle when she was young. Jude had always been the messed up on in the relationship, but he didn’t realize the meaning of Amelia’s poem until that night. Amelia had given him a copy and he read it all day. When he finally figured it all out, it was too late. Jude had lost his rock.

Jude walked to his bathroom and locked the door. His sad, colorless face stared back at him through the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and tired. His teenage body shook from the cold floor. Jude knew what he was going to do. He was scared, but ready. “The blackbird is coming.” He looked in the mirror one last time, and smiled. He closed his eyes and felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked in a drawer for his mother’s sleeping pills. He opened the bottle and poured the rest into his hand. Jude slid down to the tiled floor and rested his head against the wall. He brought his hand to his mouth and swallowed the pills. He put his hand on his heart and took Amelia’s poem out of his pocket. Jude felt his steady heart beat turn into a slower one. He stared up at the ceiling and heard the Blackbird call for him.

Neruda steal a line

 You gather things to you like an old road.

 I’ve traveled down your body,

like speeding down a  highway without a care in the world.

 

You took my innocence left on a pillowcase next to me

 In the misty rain

 The feeling of a mistake overwhelms me

 

 And your smile so fake it cracks

Shades over your eyes

 Your wild hair flying in the wind

 

 But the shotgun seat’s filled with old hopes and dreams

The dirt road we once traveled, torn apart from your lies

            The touch of his soft caramel fingers brushing up against mine.

            His smiling face is the only thing I can recognize.

            He breaks down the walls and shines the light.

            His chest is my pillow, I feel his steady heart beating.

            I look at his soft walnut brown eyes.

            His hands move away from my hands to my waist bringing us closer.

            The nerves lingered in my stomach. I wrapped my arms around him.

            My head in this crook of his neck. The smell of cologne wafting up to my nose.

            His comforting arms wrapped around me even tighter.

            I closed my eyes and felt like I was floating.

            We entwined our fingers, our bodies fit perfectly.

Irises

Green leaves pushing through the soil, like someone gasping for their last breathe

Treats the sun like an addiction, it feels the energy surging through its veins

Thrives on the dewy raindrops, stares up at the clouds waiting for another gulp

 

Bulbs of green spread its fingers, developing new color

Deep blue petals give a high five to neighboring life

Roots held down by weights, strong but delicate

 

Sunny yellow off in the corner

Trying to take over the garden of life

Vicious friends to the deep blue petals

 

Blue and yellow battle

Fight for their addictions

Neither can win

 

Drooping and tired from fighting

Dewy raindrops are no more

Petals facing the ground

 

Next spring they will rise again

where writing hides

 

v  Writing hides in my grandpa’s hugs

v  Writing hides in my best friends and I’s laughter

v  Writing hides in my neighbor yelling at her dogs and treating them like humans

v  Writing hides in the flames of a fire

v  Writing hides the history of your family

v  Writing hides in the little cuts on your hands

v  Writing hides in graffiti on a wall

v  Writing hides in a ripped up piece of paper

v  Writing hides in forgotten boxes

v  Writing hides in a ticking clock

v  Writing hides in the small flowers peeking out of the grass

Haiku (american version)

Grey colors
Wash the earth
My clothing thickens

                                                Soda

When I was nine, I was reading a brand new book and drinking soda.

My brother’s crooked elbow took away the bottles balance

Viscous bubbly liquid covered the page like a storm in the sky

 

Soiled paper rested in front of me

The bottle spun in generous circles

Hundreds of words smudged like mascara

 

Ruined literature, a good book

Paper now the weight of a brick

Sweet, sugary smells wafting like air fresheners

 

Sorrow filled me, anger too

Pages, held together by a thin spine, engulfed by the viscous liquid in a fluid motion

 

Revenge filled my eyes

The soda spiller would pay!