Bandwing Grasshoppers
I carefully inspected the cold glass jar in my small hands. Searching for any trace of tampering. I didn't see anything suspicious about the jar, nor the liquid it contained, so I went ahead and poured a small amount on my food.
A common meal at my house was pan-fried trout, steamed rice, and a simple salad. My parents would eat on their TV trays in the living room, and my brothers and I were left to serve ourselves. We kids usually were not even alerted to mealtimes; it was up to us to pay attention to things like that.
During the summer, my brothers and I would chase and catch grasshoppers in the tall weeds of our backyard. I liked the loud crackling noise these particular bugs made when they jumped. Oh, and when they did jump, what a beautiful surprise they revealed. Their hidden underwings displayed a bright flash of color as they leapt. I caught and lovingly inspected as many as I could, always looking for subtle differences in each as if they were exotic flowers.
However, we usually did not catch them to gently admire. No, quite the opposite-- we mostly caught them for bait. We would break their colorful wings to make them stay open, pierce a hook through their thorax, and then toss a hopeful cast from the nearby creek bank.
The first time I skewered one, I found that a thin, dark fluid leaked from the grasshopper. I made the mistake of exclaiming in my weird little kid way that it kind of looked like soy sauce I then proceeded to sniff it, for whatever reason.
"Don't lick it, STUPID!" My brothers laughed, braying like a pair of jackasses.
It didn't matter how many times I swore I wasn't trying to taste it, my brothers were never going to let this one go.
From then on, anytime they saw me use soy sauce for my steamed rice, they would raise their eyebrows teasingly and cock their heads, laughing, as if to say, "Are you SURE that is REALLY soy sauce?"
For the longest time, I would check the bottle prior to use. It didn't trust my brothers one bit. I had to make sure there were no grasshoppers floating in it.
Suprise!
It is my first day as a sarcophagus and I awake and start coughing cause within this coffin is all this dust, but perhaps I should have expected that. Pondering the etymology of that common modern word for casket...
Wonder if coffin started out as a verb phrase? Guess they couldn't call it a Body Basket.
But I die I guess... I mean... I digress.
-Fin-
Halo
Were it not for the ever-present beat of my circadian rhythm and the reliable commotion of traffic filtering through the flimsy walls of my one-bedroom apartment, I don't think I would have gotten out of bed today. Don't worry, I'm not depressed. I'm just a loser with no direction in life who got himself dumped last night. Still, gotta be a human right? So after a few minutes of staring at the ceiling and praying that the last 24 hours had all been a dream, I got out of bed and put on some pants on a Saturday morning at 10:00 am.
I know, I'm an American hero.
I checked my phone, and sure enough, there was the dreaded text message. "I don't c this going any where, Ted, so it's time we both moved on.. sorry" Frowny face. Brocken heart emoji.
It would have stung less if she hadn't also stood me up on our anniversary. The bad grammar added insult to injury... And the emojis. And the fact that she decided to end a year-long relationship with a text message shorter than most of her tweets. I'm pretty sure that she was drunk when she sent it, but considering she hasn't responded to any of my messages since, I'm also pretty sure she meant it.
Sighing, I tossed the phone onto the bed and trudged into the kitchen only to discover that I had run out of coffee. Blinking stupidly at the empty bag, I was about to go back to bed because there was the point in living in a world without coffee. Then there was a knock at the door. A feeling of dread washed over me wondering who the hell it could be. Any hope that they would just go away disappeared when I heard another more insistent knock a few seconds later. I answered the door.
I was greeted by the face of a friend my girlfr- my ex had always hated. She gave me a sad little smile and said, "Hey, you're up!" Like it was an accomplishment.
I grunted, unenthusiastically rubbing my eyes. She held up two coffee cups and a box of donuts and offered, "Want to talk about it? Or play some Halo?"
At that moment, I felt like I had been trapped underground, and she had just dug me out. I could have kissed her. Instead, I took the coffee and said, "Halo."
The sun was setting as the old version of me sat alone on the edge of the cliff. My mind was consumed with the overwhelming pain of my Borderline Personality Disorder. The memories of childhood abuse. Not only did they neglect me but my parents sold my body to other adults. The trauma of my CPTSD weighed heavily on my heart. I couldn't take it anymore. I took one last deep breath and jumped.
As my body hit the rocks below, my mind was suddenly jolted into a new reality. I was in a new body, but I felt like me. I looked around in confusion, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I had died, but somehow my mind had transferred into this new body.
I walked around my new surroundings and saw that everything was unfamiliar. I felt a sense of loss and sadness for my old life and my old lover, Christopher. I had been so consumed by my anger and sadness that I had been unfair to him. Now that I was in this new body, I hoped I could start therapy and learn to control my emotions.
As I walked through the streets, I couldn't help but notice that this new body was just as beautiful as the old one. I felt a sense of hope that I could have a fresh start, and maybe even find happiness again.
I eventually found Christopher, but I had to pretend I didn't know him at first. As we spent more time together, I realized that I still loved him. He saw the changes in me but also the familiarity. I admitted I was his old lover when he asked me to prove it. So I told him the story of watching Doctor Strange secluded in the mountain on his phone. I had got scared and jumped into his lap. He came realize that I was his old lover in a new body. We fell deeply in love all over again and I knew that I could make him love me even though I had to pretend I didn't know who he was at first.
We were happy together and I was finally able to heal from the severe abuse of my past. I looked forward to a bright future with Christopher, grateful for the second chance at life that I had been given.
Together, Christopher and I embarked on a journey of love and self-discovery. We hiked through the mountains, taking in the beauty of nature and the freedom of being together. We attended cosplay conventions, dressed up as our favorite characters and lost ourselves in the fantasy of it all. We even started a collection of old VHS tapes, watching movies under the stars and laughing until our sides ached.
As time passed, we grew closer and closer. We started to build a life together, creating memories that we knew would last a lifetime. We were each other's safe haven, and we knew that we were meant to be together.
As we grew older, we never lost the spark that had brought us together. We would still go on romantic adventures, like taking trips to the beach or watching the sunset from the top of a hill. We were always there for each other, through the good times and the bad.
Eventually, our time together came to an end. We knew that we would soon have to say goodbye, but we were at peace with it. We had lived a full and happy life together, and nothing could ever change that.
As we lay on our deathbeds, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes, we knew that our love would never truly die. We were buried under the same willow tree, our love forever entwined in the roots and branches. And even in death, we knew that we were still together, forever and always.
Rage
Regurgitated acid
up my throat
in my mouth
holding it for too long
hurts my teeth
spitting it
hurts the kitchen cabinet
Something aching
hybrid android
ripping through the skin
under the ribcage
palpable feelings
grief
something I have not experienced
in the sense of the word
people bursting open
searching for excuses to claim the next prize
or dethrone someone else who made it
to the top
But I don't want anonymity
power comes with eternity
something not every fragile soul is up to
but I'm not fragile
my body claims the opposite
a tough cookie
a rocket chocolate
class act of mass violence
staff leftovers from last night's
Christmas banquet
invite the whole family
for a night of truth
no dares
just blindfolds attached to sheets
underneath bedroom tables
Fleeting Flowers
Quiet. Forever. The rose wilts.
Bubbly. Burst.
Despite my pleas, the phone will ring eternally.
My heart yearns for the argument while we dined.
A moment to engage.
A second to celebrate.
Hollow. A candy shell, melted, empty.
My love. It is forever. and ever. and ever.
But my flower has wilted.