Xanadu
 

It cradled your head every night and caught tears while you weeped yourself to sleep. It was even shared some nights with the guest you kept in your home, but was never thanked for any of it. Continuously pounded time after time until the perfect spot was found and it could finally relax. After a while, it began to get old and run-down from the various beatings you gave it. It started to not support you while you were most vulnerable, so you kicked it to the curb and replaced

She begged for her first phone. She was the only one in her grade without one. And how could she reach out to call for help if she were in danger without a-- Parents caved. Plans were made. Grandparents were called. Parents were asked for rides and money... So easily accessible in times of heartache, boredom and need. She needed to know which street to turn on to. Luckily, her convenient phone came with a GPS. Just need to type one-two-four Melville--. Cracked skull. She's lu

The same kid that told his mother to burn in hell, dances around in his firefighter costume. The same boy who hits his dog for barking too loud, goes door-to-door getting candy with his Scooby-Doo ears flopping around. The same girl who finds her neighbor’s bulimia funny, laughs like no tomorrow through her clown makeup. The same woman who steps over homeless people on the ground, thinking of them as trash, receives countless compliments on her shiny halo and sparkling angel

As the bleach fried her dark brown locks, she felt free. Her hair was washed and scrubbed by the salon tech, whose nails would scrape her scalp so pleasantly. And when the dye was put into her hair, bringing pink hues dancing off the walls, she wanted to cry out in joy. Because the little girl from that summer was no longer there, nor had she been left behind. She had now become "mature" and "seasoned" after eradicating the very thing that made her. She left the salon feeling

As I hold him in my hands, it's almost as if time moves backwards. The baby blue felt still feels fresh and soft even though it's become hard with a greenish tint. His little plastic eyes feel glossy and just move despite being scratched and rough. A small stitched smile with its string coming loose is still firm and delicate when I see it. The ribbon tied around his neck slowly coming apart stays tightly around his neck. Even his two-foot stature still towers over me as it d

While taking my second SAT in room 630, I was disturbed by the vivid images of him dangling by his swollen, purple neck. Braided nylon cuddling his throat, promising to never let go. He ever so slightly swings left to right due to the breeze intruding from the bathroom window. His mother walks in with tears in her eyes, and tear drops on the piece of ripped composition notebook paper which contains the explanation for his actions. The smack of my pencil hitting the ground s

I am the sweet drink you enjoy in the summer, the sour fruit you hate, and the pie you never ask for. I am the river that crosses China, the bright sand mixed in the soil. The polo shirt that he was wearing, now just the highlights in his shoes. The roses no one thinks of, the sunflowers everyone does. I am the old dog whose pelt is faded, yet still bright. The big bird who lives on the street, the sea sponge who lives in the pineapple, but also the bee who lives in the hive.

You scarred me. Left me with a wound so deep like a child in a coffin. Closed, but always open.

She nurtured me with her body, a way no one else was designed for. She carried me, caressed me when I did not ask her to. When I was incapable to fend for myself. She created a life with her touch and gave me light. She steps on glass and goes through thorn bushes. I can see her flesh fade away like beauty on a tired face. I cry and plead for her to come back to the luxuriant rye that she laid me on. With this life that she has steamed for me I can not help but feel guilty.

I am the warning sky before a thunderstorm the lavender used to calm your senses. I am the velvet robe of a wise king, his amethyst crown stolen during the coup. I am the blurred neon lights in the bar where you met your first love- the merlot you drink to forget them. I am the cold grape juice you'd drink on a hot summer day. I am the calm of blue and the warmth of red. I am the favorite dress you never wear. I am the beautiful and deadly nightshade growing in your backyard.