Creative Preface for Portfolio Poem

When she can’t sleep at night,

she thinks of what to write.

 

Ideas flow through her mind,

like visions of an acid trip,

Dripping with raw emotion and real-life experience.

 

She sits in front of her computer until her fingers hack at the keys.

There’s a story in there somewhere.

A story that originates from a young girl who lost her way.

A story of mental illness at its finest: paranoid schizophrenia.

 

It’s a blessing when it comes to writing, but it’s a curse when it comes to writing.

Too many ideas flowing at once, mostly good ideas. Mostly…

 

She’s been writing since she was young.

Her mother always told her to write how she felt.

So she did.

It started with letters from her mom, trying to help her understand reality.

Years later, she wrote letters back to her mom about how she turned out okay.

 

She advertises her books in hopes of someday making it big.

Maybe one day someone will discover her.

 

For now, she just keeps writing to escape reality.

To create her own story, the characters are her friends.

In the end, she’s not alone. Her characters are on her side.

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“Amanda” Poem (an Anaphora poem)

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know.

I called her my MandaBoo.

She had long, wavy, bright blonde hair.

Green eyes, that sparkled in the sun.

Black thick-rimmed glasses.

They made her look innocent.

 

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know,

that beautiful dress she used to wear,

It was yellow and black tartan,

More like a jumper, really.

Her pale skin glowed in it.

 

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know,

The way people watched in disgust

as we kiss in the hallway.

My arms wrapped neatly around her waist.

The way her hand fit into mine.

 

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know,

the time she saw me at the mall,

She tackled me with a bear hug.

We fell to the floor.

It felt like it was just her and I.

 

 

 

 

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know,

How we got into a fight on Facebook,

About how her boyfriend was cheating on her.

She got upset and blocked me.

 

I’ll never forget a girl I used to know,

I added her back on Facebook,

After years of not speaking.

I see her posts, but we still don’t speak.

I’ve thought about deleting her,

But I can’t get myself to let go.

 

I’ll never forget how much I loved her,

That girl I used to know.

Since I’m done with my Creative Writing class…

I’m going to be posting some of my work from the class on here. I have 7 pieces. 4 poems, a short story, and a play. I just finished the revisions on all of them last night. I have to print them all out with the original before revisions and make it into a portfolio. Stay tuned. I’ll post one tonight and schedule some more for the week.

[3] S4: continued “Derek”

I open the metal door to the Circle K gas station. The girl with the black hair and red streak looks at me suspiciously. I decide to be ballsy so I smiled and winked at her. Then I realized my hood was tightened over my face. I quickly pull it down off my head. She watches me walk to the back of the store.

I look at the ceiling trying to find cameras. The only ones I see are near the alcohol. I figure now is as good a time as any to have sticky fingers. I grab a protein bar and shove it in my hoodie pocket as quickly as I can. I lean over at the end of the isle. The girl was too busy ringing up a customer to notice, at least that’s what I thought. I decided to bolt for the door.

“Hey, you!” A voice calls. I stop at the door and am sure I’m busted. I turn around and the beautiful girl is looking at me. She nods her head and says “Come here.” I walk up to the counter hoping she’s not going to call the cops. She looks me up and down.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” She asks. I can see her looking deep into my eyes trying to figure me out. I clear my throat and try to calm down.

“I don’t think so,” I say cooly. “But I’d like to know you.” I flash my teeth and smile big for her. She giggles and turns around behind the cash register. She turns back around after a few minutes and slides me a piece of paper.

“Here’s my number. Text me sometime.” She says with a smile. I take the piece of paper and shove it in my hoodie pocket with the protein bar. The sensor above the door sings as I leave.

Once I get a few feet away from Circle K, I look around. No cops or anyone following me. I open the protein bar and eat it quickly. I was so hungry. I hadn’t ate in days. Dad doesn’t keep much food around the house. Just another great thing about him. As I finish the protein bar I remember the piece of paper she gave me. I open it up. It says “Samantha 309-838-5555” with a little heart next to her name.

Being one of the poor kids, I don’t usually pull many girls. I was surprised that this one willingly gave me her number. I’d never seen her before. She must got to a different school.

I keep walking. My feet start to ache when I realize how far I’ve walked. I’m in the next town over. Normal. You can’t find many “normal” people here…

[2] Short Story Series Saturday: Continued! “Derek”

I reach a gas station, just south of town. I see a beautiful girl working at the counter. She’s about my age. She has long, flowing black hair with a red streak down the right side. As she’s checking out the person at the cash register, she stops and notices me. As much as I don’t want to, I find myself walking towards the gas station.

It’s a Circle K gas station. A big red and blue K is above the gas price which currently shows $2.65 for unleaded. That information would be useful to me if I had a car. Instead, I rely on these two legs to get me where I need to go. There’s a reason I don’t have a car.

You see, I got put on house arrest because I totaled my dad’s car. It was an accident. Well, more of an accident waiting to happen. I was at this party…

My friend Kyle lives on the east side, the rich side, of town. He lives in a bi-level house with lots of windows. Inside there are lots of people holding red cups in their hands, dancing and talking. I was sitting under the table in the kitchen slamming down some beers.

“You good down there, bro?” Kyle laughed. He was an athletic kid; on the football team. He could have any girl he wanted, and he did. He was a spoiled brat, but he let me get in on the money he made off selling his Xanax. His parents were divorced so he used the “I have anxiety” card and his doctor believed him. Put him on Xanax, just like that.

Everything was spinning. I looked at my phone. 1:46AM. I laid there on the floor struggling to remember what day it is. I look at my phone again in my drunken stupor. Wednesday.

“Shit, dude! It’s a school night! I gotta go!” I raised up from the floor and slammed my head on the table. I knew deep down my dad wouldn’t notice I was gone. He really didn’t care how late I was out, even if it was a school night. I just knew I had to get home. Unfortunately, I had driven my dad’s 2015 blacked-out Jeep to the party. I felt comfortable enough to drive home. I did just that.

On the way home I noticed a white car following me. I didn’t know it, but I was swerving all over the road. Soon enough I saw the red and blue lights behind me. I put my foot on the accelerator and tried to get away. While I was looking out my rearview mirror trying to get away, I struck a light pole. That’s when shit hit the fan. I passed out cold as soon as I wrecked the Jeep.

I remember waking up the next day in the hospital. My dad nowhere to be found. My phone, M.I.A. No visitors. Just nurses pacing the hall floor and me in my room, all alone. I look over from the hospital bed and notice an IV in my arm. I lay there with my face scrunched in confusion, trying to figure out what happened.

An older nurse comes in and starts to make notes on my chart at the end of the bed. I watch her carefully.

“Excuse me,” I ask. She looks up from my chart. “Why am I here?” She smiled and showed her perfectly aligned, white teeth.

“Baby, you got in an accident. You were rushed here in an ambulance. They didn’t think you were gonna make it,” She looked at me in all seriousness. “Have you looked at yourself?” She asked. I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. She helped me to the bathroom so I could assess the damage.

My face was pretty banged up. I had about 5 stitches in my forehead. A lot of bruising. I was missing some of my teeth. I still wasn’t sure what happened. All I did know, is that I wished I could’ve died in this accident so I could be with my mom again.

As soon as the nurse got me back into bed, my dad comes storming into the room. He throws my cell phone at me and it hits my sternum in my chest.

“Good job, asshole.” was all he said and he walked right back out. I had a feeling this was the beginning of a great conversation that would come up later.

Religiously Confused

So for whatever reason, I get into these weird obsessed manic episodes where all of a sudden I want to be religious. I somehow convince myself that I’m wrong by practicing witchcraft and being Wiccan. Even though my whole life, I’ve always been drawn to nature and felt a magical feeling about it that really resonated with me.

Here’s why I’m confused. When I feel like I’m practicing the correct religion, I feel a blissful, calming feeling. When I was younger I would walk around barefoot in nature and just feel the wind blow through my hair. That would give me the blissful feeling. However, when I was baptized in a church at age 12, I also got that blissful feeling. So am I Christian or am I Wiccan? I’m confused.

Then another part of me wonders why I can’t do both. Religion to me isn’t about the afterlife. One thing that resonated with me in Wicca was the concept of reincarnation. I never have believed your soul dies and goes to heaven. I feel like spirits are everlasting. You come back into the world as something else, the moment you die.

I started looking at churches last night. There’s this one church one of my friend’s goes to that I’ve heard so many great things about called Vale church. I watched the hour-long service from last Sunday on my phone and thought it was okay. The pastor kept talking about how everyone was welcome in their church and I liked that. Then… I looked on their website about “what we believe”. They believe homosexuality is a sin and so is being transgender or nonbinary. Personally, I can’t be in a church that doesn’t support those 2 things. So that church is out.

I grew up in a Methodist church so I looked up different Methodist churches in town. There’s one I’m somewhat interested in called Wesley United Methodist church that’s located not too far from me. Their website seemed a lot more welcoming as far as types of people. I may try that church. However, today I’m attending a Lutheran church with my best friend that she’s been going to since she was young. She said last time I went I had a bad experience. I don’t really remember, plus that was almost 4 or 5 years ago so things could have changed. I’m looking forward to going to Bible study with her as well. Even though I’ve never believed in the Bible and that it is a sacred text written by Jesus’ followers, I do believe there are lessons to be learned in it and I’m all about learning more.

I guess if it all comes down to it, I could be what is called a Christopagan or a Christian Witch. I don’t really want to give up on Wicca entirely, but for some reason, it just feels wrong lately. I go through periods where I’m in denial about being Wiccan. As I was raised Christian, I feel that’s what I’m supposed to be. It’s what I know. I don’t really know. I guess I’ll write about my experience.

“True friends stab you in the front”

While on my way home from a small town this evening I found myself trying to think of blog posts since I haven’t posted one in a while. I had Spotify on and I was listening to the “Bullet for my Valentine” radio station. A song I’ve heard on this station before, and because it was my album of the month for August, was “True Friends” by Bring me the Horizon. The lyrics go like this: “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you, ‘Cause I’ll forget but I’ll never forgive you, Don’t you know, don’t you know? True friends stab you in the front”.

This resonates with me so much right now. I’ve recently lost my best friend, for about the 3rd time. No, she didn’t die. She basically disowned me. Again… You see… my best friend has a lot of problems. Being suicidal is #1. She’s been so depressed lately after her most recent suicide attempt a couple of months back. She never texts me back. She doesn’t text me at all. When I text her and ask her why she won’t text me back, she’ll say something smart-assy like “I didn’t know it was a requirement”. It really pisses me off. We hung out back in July and she was totally fine when we hung out. She wasn’t as talkative as usual, but she seemed like she was enjoying herself. She actually reached out to me at that time and asked me to hang out. I was surprised since she hadn’t been texting me much lately.

I’m very disappointed, to say the least. I haven’t talked to her since July. She’s since gone back to school in Chicago and I start college on Monday. I really wanted to be able to come home Monday and text her and tell her how awesome my 1st day of college was. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be doing that. I’ve finally decided I’ve had enough. I know when people are depressed and suicidal you shouldn’t ditch them or stop being their friend, but I’ve had enough. I’m not reaching out to her anymore. I’m not texting her, not calling her. I may even take her off my Christmas card list. I just can’t take it. You’re supposed to be my best friend. We’ve been close since 2010. That’s 7 years. Where have those years gone? Apparently down the drain.

It’s so hard for me to make this decision. I have no idea how I’m going to react when she finally texts me out of the blue because I know she will eventually. She always does. I may want to text her back right then and there and be overjoyed to hear from her. However, I will have to stop myself and ignore the text. She’s pushing away all the people that care about her. I just don’t understand how she can do this. Throwing a friendship of almost a decade, well, we’ve known each other since we were kids, but throwing all that away? It’s just sad. I will always care for her, but I just can’t do it anymore.

So when your friend tries to commit suicide for the umpteenth time unsuccessfully and shuts you out. Don’t go pushing and fighting to retain their friendship. It’s not worth the drama. Lesson learned.