Sophia

Poetry: I am myself. I am facinated with the way you could so easily put out a flame and how carelessly the smoke would drift. I am myself. I am mezmerized with how angry mother earth would be with us that she would blow away our cities like simply blowing dust off a book. I am myself. I share, I love, I dream. Dreams full of iridecent light, and swimmable oceans. Dreams about you, dreams that I want to share with, but dont, for fear of shattering our natral connection. I am myself. I keep the loud winding fan on, circling above my head, all throughout the night. So that silence wont emty me out, so that I have something repeditive to count on.So that the mischeif of night doesnt over come me, darkness.

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Poem Name: If I were a bird, dedicated to a friend who knows who they are.

If I were a bird, I would chirp songs all day. Songs about you. About the way you laugh, and smile. About the way you call out to me, even though I'm the one that needs you, desperatley. I would fly up into the sky, and look down on you, and wish that you could float the way I do. I would soar through the clouds and never come back down, if I were a bird.

More Poetry: This one is dedicated to my cousin, Ella, and Susie Salmon, of The Lovely Bones, who have nothing to do with each other, but I think that they are both beautiful in unfaulted ways. I love you EllaGrace. Grace and Invinsability She stands on the porch in late Summer. The sun has just finished setting, the wind starts to blow. I wonder if she knows her power, if she knows her strength. Lightning explodes and lights up in the twilight sky. Thunder crashes and roars. She is wearing a white dress that flows all the way to her knees, that swindels when she takes a step forward, towards the storm. Her glowing green eyes, and light red hair tha moves in long clean waves down her shoulders. She wears no shoes, her beauty is innocent and untouchable, which is what makes her so lovely. She sees lightning seconds before it strikes and thunder continues to ring in her head after physically is gone. She is Grace, and invinsability.

Poetry Name: Goodbye A picture could capture the innocence of a flower, a few colors, lush. A texture that wouldnt suprise you if you felt it, gentle. A picture could capturea wave just before it crashes, and a storm just before it hits, suspense. A picture could capture your pink lips and full cheeks, your deep eyes and your smile. But a picture that captures a flower cant take its fragerance, a picture that takes a wave couldnt capture the wet air, the thrill. A picture could capture your face, and only your face. It cant take your brilliance, your love, your emptiness, it cant take the natural way we go hand in hand, it cant take your soul. These can only be released... goodbye.

A little look at the (unfinished) story I'm writing, called... some thoughts on what to name it, Possesed, Withering Roses, or No little Love. I'm still very undecided, plus you cant name a story effectivly before its done.

I never thought my story would be told in the form of a bad horror movie. You know the ones where you see the girl moving towards something that you know she will never live through, how you scream in yout head, Don't do it! Dont go towards the creepy graveyard, don't go into the dark basement. I also never thought that my story would be told in the form of a love story. I'm brought back to reality by the sound of Rose screeching my name from behind, bloodcurdling screams. I'm sprinting as fast as I can towards Luke. Running across the roof of my house in the rain, balancing, and flying faster than the fastest bird ever could. I am really my mothers birdie now. Like she always said I was, and would be. A thinker, she said I was different, that I was going to be part of something different. Thunder calshes with lightning and I can feel my heart sprawling out of my chest. I turn in circles when I can't find Luke on my roof. Then, slowly curling my head to where I had been just moments before, I see Rose. Suffocating the flower she talked Luke into giving me, it's blood red, beautiful, poisonous. She stares straight into me and whispers my name, "Sukie". Her violet eyes glowing, she giggles, a sick, mesohistic giggle and holds the dagger up to my neck. You know how they say when the odds tell you that you are about to die, about to face death, that your life flashes before your eyes? Well, my memories flood in, first my parents kissing in front of me, oblivious that this would be burnt into my mind as a happy moment. Mom, Dad, and I moving into the beach town we lived in, the smell of the salty air, and the windy feeling that grows inside you when you are near the beach. Next, the days that we were with my mother, the last days that we were ever with my mother. The last thing she said to me, "Always give your love away, because sometimes people have to leave." The next day she was reported missing. It was just like my mother to steal advice from a song, that one just happened to be from the Twang Twang Shock a boom album, Always give your love away. Shortly after that we left our house in the beach town, because her presence was everywhere, and that was a really errie way to live. I remembered moving into the house I was standing on right now, and meeting Luke. I remembered everything about him, including our first kiss. Isnt it odd how my best memories both involve kissing, first to last, begining to end, kissing? Blood is now streaming down my neck, and sticking to me even in the rain. Rose's eyes glowing, I'm suddenly back. She looks at the lightning, which flashes, and shows her youthful sleep-deprived, ghost-like face. She is ready to strike when I hear Luke choke out a scream in the distance. "Sukie! Sukie!!" Hope attacks my heart, "Luke! Luke, where are you?" I try to break away from Rose's to-strong grip, and fail. "Sukie! Sukie, look, if only one of us gets to live, it should be you!" And I want it to be him. "Luke, no, I won't let it work like that!" I hear him choke out some sort of response, but Jade quickly silences his cries. And its too late anyway, because I swing my fist at Rose's head, and as she backs up I kick her in the stomach with as much force as I can use. Those steriotypes about ghosts that say they have no mass are not true, once they take enough power from humans they are once again solid. So she stumbles backwards, I dont feel the need to see what happens to her, I just turn around and run. I know I will to save him, not myself. I run back across the roof, and jump off. (...) To be continued.

Poetry: Inspired by the Tegan and Sara album, The Con, the band, Hole, and like lots of my poems, reading The Lovely Bones, helped shape it. Heavy Metal. I am proud to hear the scream of an elactric guitar. I wish to the stars that the lost treasures would be found, and brought out of their holes. The sun stares into my soul and burns rays through my hair. I can feel the iron cask growing around your heart. You are building walls I cant break down. I can feel darkness overtaking my body as cold iceicle daggers fly through my head. The water that is now a frozen knife was once salty tears. Luckily this weapon that speared my brain will melt away. Heavy Metal.

More Poetry: Also inspired by The Con. Neon Colored Blood. Mirrors only show you whats on the outside. I have seen your mind, your heart, I have seen you laughing and crying. Throwing Mirrors at birds. They can fly, go wherever they want, and they stay put, where they are safe and comfortable. I repeat what you said to me in my mind, always. Throwing mirrors at birds. Stays up all night slamming his head into the wall. A wall of books that slowly fall over one by one. A wall of information that you can take nothing from. Ripples in a dark pool of water that was black glass until you ruined it with your touch. You are druming on my memories with your goodbyes. You leave you take everything with you. I will still feel you here with me, because your presence is everywhere. You are the brid that got away. The one that dodged the mirrors. You are the neon colored blood that fills my veins, fly away.

More Poetry: Yes, The Con. Try and Escape. I can feel walls being built around me. They are closing me in, they are holding me tight. I have no idea when I get out, where I get off. I start to wonder where this ride ends. Inside this box that surrounds my thoughts, and feelings, I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't sway, I can't love anyone but you. This box is containing me. I can feel walls being built around me. I swing my fists and scream my pleads. I bang on the walls and attempt to break free. I cry at the top of my lungs. The walls stop coming and silence sets in. I can see through the box. A white room with black ink your name spelled out, over, and over again. Try and Escape.