Upon your heaving bosom rest

our woven fingers cling

inhaling selfish from your breast

toxins on tides of spring

Did I leave the window open?

Tossing reels of flames gone by

teasing me with mountainous lie

One of seven born in sin

i yield not to fiendish din

mind doth knock a mindful bow

she’s done more than you know

Tonight I’ve won and celebrate the win

though tomorrow comes, I will do it again.

can you erase

the petty scars

of the words

sharpened through

square perfect teeth.

can you erase

the broken sobs

of an earth divided?

can you erase...

....me?

can you erase sharpie?

can you erase the

permanent marker

all over my heart?

i don't think so.

what can i erase?

the blank stares.

trying to erase their

ignorance with my

words. i'm not sure

if it works anymore.

they just get better

at not listening.

something like that.

something like

this.

how do i erase bullying?

many have tried.

we all see the posters:

"this is a bully-free school,"

they advertise.

how full of lies they are.

tell the catchy slogans to me.

to all the ones who endured

torment inside these walls.

you know nothing.

can you erase hate?

even when it's so

ingrained in our

culture, our words,

our witty slang?

it remains to be seen.

maybe because

the future is blind

to us.

can you erase?

Real life monsters can be erased.

There are a lot of evil things in this world. Pick one and let your imagination find a way to remove it from our lives. Use as many words as it takes. No rules. I will be the judge.

I'm sorry- I couldn't resist. If there is any monster I can eradicate in the world, it's terrible grammar. Forgive me.

Our creator has made us exsactly how we are.

Each is different as every shooting star.

Their are people that would never take a chance, to try and make you feel loved.

Throwing hatred at your feet,while holding fire up above.

Bullies is what they are, created by parents that never told them they were star's.

Blinded by the fact, that their creating scars.

Situations like columbine,with future's behind bars.

We must stand for people that feel less then.

Who knows you might find your best friend.

Onions. They are evil and deceitful. They trick you with their innocent outside but on the inside as you peel slowly, tear down their layers, they hurt you. They make you tear up and regret even having them. All you wanted was to have something to add some spice in your dish, but now all your efforts have failed. You cry as you relize that there's nothing you can do. You sit on the floor and let your chille burn instead of spilling it on the floor at work and have to clean it up with your bare hands. So this is why onions are evil. They should be banished. Thrown into the pits of tartarus and burned. Bur careful because you could end up getting hurt all over again.

Could you imagine a worse fate? You gradually begin to forget simple things. You forget to feed the dog. You miss appointment. You forget how to get to the supermarket. You can't remember your daughter's phone number. You forget how to drive. You start to neglect your personal hygiene. What day of the week is it? What month? You don't recognize your grandchildren. What year is it? The nurse is here with your medication. What medication? Why? Until you expire. A fate truly worse than death. That's what a monster does.

Jennifer approaches the woman and her child. The woman rising, the mother standing as tall as possible, but only after striking her son across the face.

Jennifer ignores the woman and bends before the boy. She smiles, places a finger upon his belly. Rising, gently squeezing the child's arm, Jennifer faces the woman.

When the woman moves to grab her son, to pull him from the shop, the child’s eyes brighten. Tears build, like bubbles upon the end of a wand, but don’t pop. Refracting the overhead light, small rainbows swirl atop this solution's arc, and Jennifer sees not so much the boy’s thoughts, but the manner by which he goes about thinking.

“Excuse me,” Jennifer says.

She lowers her eyes and smoothes the pleats of her dress. New, purchased just in time for the season, she pockets her hands within hidden seams. In pattern hundreds upon hundreds of small yellow flowers soften certain features of her countenance. But lowering her eyes? Smoothing her pleats? All of this is affect. All of this is to bring about a greater response when she stills her hands; when Jennifer raises her eyes.

Pitched so that only the woman hears, so that only the mother, this woman, will ever truly know, she says, “Just remember, and forever, that I saw what you did in here today. Okay, Mom? So that makes two of us. Me, and your little boy. There’s two of us who will never forget. You might. You'll probably rationalize this away long before your first beer. But we won’t. And so what you’ve done? Even if you forget it?”

Jennifer looks from the woman to the boy. The impression of the woman’s hand, red, and rising to welt upon the little boy’s face, just now purpling.

"It'll never be undone."

The door doesn't hit the woman on her way out. Like a punch line, it closes upon the little boy.

Cherry and grape tomatoes are disgusting. They make me barf, not rainbows, but the one and only cherry and grape tomatoes. They pop in your mouth like gross little water balloons and not in a good way. Grape tomatoes are the evil twin of the grape. Why would you create an evil thing and name it after something as delicious as a cherry. When I see them on my salad, I cringe. I cringe away from that tomato. My mom tell me to eat them, and I run away, away from the evil of those tiny tomatoes. If you don't run, i fear those little nasties will get you too. They will hold you in their tiny clutches and force you to eat them. They will pop in your mouth. Mark my words, you will rue the day you inderestimated the cherry and grape tomatoes. Dear cherry and grape tomatoes, go away forever and be gone. You are a disgrace to spagetti sauce and ketchup.

Sincerly, me.

Graphite struck the paper, one line flowing into another as she bent over the narrow desk, pouring her soul onto the page.

From the silver lines rose her demons, the nightmares she worked so hard to keep from the world.

Her father, belt in hand, eyes cold and unfeeling.

The girls she once had called friends, their laughter and snide comments echoing through her head.

They took shape on the paper, bit by bit, and when she was done she reached deep within her pocket and removed the lighter.

It trembled in her hand, a delicate flame licking at the paper.

She watched the edge buckle and blacken, spreading with each second.

Before long there was nothing left, safe for a thin line of ash.

The girl let out a sigh of relief, daily ritual complete.

The practice didn't make her demons any less real, but with time they too would be overcome.

Adam was the golden boy of the town, from the moment he was born he was destined to make his family proud and moreover make everyone in his town proud. He was strong, charming, charismatic. He knew exactly what he wanted out of life and he knew exactly how to get. He was captain of the football team, president of the school’s event committee, a group leader at the local community center. He was doing everything right with his life and he was as happy as he could be.

Now, bad things didn’t happen often in their little town, but when they did everyone took it very well. Of course losing the playoff football game sucked, and of course getting dumped by the person you thought was the one hurt, and of course, a loved one passing away causes many to grieve, but in their little town, sadness never lasted very long. Team players would quickly get excited about next year’s season, teenagers would start to believe their relationships to be learning experiences, those who loved those who passed on got to move forward. Adam had thought this was all normal until he met Tori.

It had been by chance really, that Adam had passed by that alleyway and noticed a door that he’d never seen before. It wasn’t exactly a very traveled road at night but during the day it got enough traffic to leave the door unnoticed. Adam only saw it now because he’d stayed late to help clean up the school dance and decided to walk home since it was a beautiful night.

He even almost walked right past the door, he would have gone home, had dinner with his parents and his sister, told them about his day, probably watch some television with them until it was time to go to bed and then start the next day in the morning. But he saw the door and it made him pause, pause long enough to decide to poke his head in and see what was inside. So he stepped into the alleyway, walking down its path towards the strange door. It was a small town, he had thought he had known every inch of the place.

That was what prompted him to open the door and step inside. What he found was a dark foyer, leading off in two directions. He would have turned around and gone home had he not heard the faint sniffles coming from one of the halls. He frowned and stepped into the building, carefully closing the door behind him, “Hello? Is there someone in here?”

The sniffling cut off abruptly and he was left in silence. This was certainly a curious experience if he had ever been in one and all he could do was walk towards the hall where the sounds had been coming from.

Confused didn’t even begin to describe how he felt when he approached a cell door. He felt a chill go down his spine. Though it was late into summer outside one could easily confuse these indoors with a frigid autumn day. What was stranger still, was the cell bars separating him and a scared girl with tear stains down her cheeks.

“Hey…”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, her reddened eyes looking up at him filled with heartbreaking sorrow.

“Are you okay?” He knelt down in front of the bars, his brows pulled together in worry.

He thought the smile on her face was strange. She was very openly weeping and yet the faintest of smiles graced her lips when he spoke. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” She said, hugging herself as short hiccups impeded her speech.

“Are you sure?” Adam continued, “What are you doing in here?” He frowned a little bit, unable to curb his concern, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“You can leave,”

The bluntness of the words shocked him. Even if they weren’t said with even an ounce of malice, Adam didn’t know how to take it.

“I don’t want you to get sad because of me,”

If possible, these words shocked Adam even more, “What do you mean?”

The girl twiddled her thumbs, staring at the movement intently, “Emotions are contagious, yanno. If one person is sad then the people around them feel bad for them, if it's not just pity then it's guilt too. I don't wanna make anyone feel that way,”

Adam knew what she said was true from the moment it left her mouth because he felt his heart hurt. How long had this girl been here? “Are you always this sad?”

She nodded her head, “I’m sad so you don’t have to be.”

“What does that mean?” Adam asked, his brows pulling together in confusion.

“Well if I told you, then you’d be sad,”

Adam frowned, shaking his head, “But you don’t deserve to be sad alone,” He argued.

“You’re right,” She said, smiling again even despite the tears welling in her eyes still, “That’s why I chose to be here, because no one deserves to be sad and cold and lonely." Her smile broke his heart.

“What do you mean?”

It took a little while for Adam to coax an explanation out of her but soon hours had passed and he learned about things he'd never been aware of.

Firstly he learned that her name was Tori, she was raised by her father, unknowing of the loving touch of a mother. But she didn’t mind that so much because she loved her father with every fiber of her being. Furthermore, she had an unbelievably vast love for people and society, even if she had never been the most social person growing up. She would accept no other option to go out of her way to make sure everyone was comfortable and happy because her care of people was boundless.

It amazed Adam that such a person existed. She had such a big heart and loved people so much. When he began to hear why she was there, it broke his heart.

When she was younger, she’d met a traveler, an old man driving to the city for his son’s wedding, who just happened to be passing by. The man had blown a tire and Tori was so quick to be by his side and helping him, a heartwarming smile on her face even though just earlier she had been hit just a little too hard by a friend.

The man had seen right through her, “Why do you not tell people that you suffer?”

She had been surprised, the question abrupt and completely without context yet not needing any of the sorts, “What do you mean?”

The man lightly scolded her for putting others above herself but at the same time praised her for being so strong. She told him about her friend and how close they were and about how he sent her a playful punch to the arm which left a nasty bruise behind. He hadn’t meant to, they had been laughing and having a good time, if anything the swing was mildly affectionate. So why make him feel worry or guilt because of something he hadn’t meant to do, for something that wouldn’t be any better just because he now loathed himself.

That’s when the man made her an offer, they spoke a little about the utopias of fiction and how she could make one in her own town. She would be the catch-all drain for all the negative emotions in the city so that everyone could lead the best lives possible. The idea had made her ecstatic.

Even now, as Adam sat in front of her with a pain in his chest for knowing where his joy came from, she looked happy to be there.

“But what about your life? Your future?” He asked, feeling close to tears himself.

She still smiled at him and it only tore his heart open more, “I never knew what it was I wanted to do with my life, I never felt like I had anything special to contribute. But you? You know exactly what you want out of life and exactly how to get it. That’s why I’m happy to do this for you. That’s why I want you to leave, and I want you to forget me,”

“But-”

“Please go,” The request was so gentle, so genuine, Adam couldn’t help but listen. He stood up, walking backward with his eyes refusing to leave Tori’s image. He kept going until he couldn’t see her anymore. When the door closed behind him and he was in the alley again, the warm night and rustle of a gentle breeze conflicted horribly with his sorrow. The night was peaceful, serene, but he was heartbroken.

He thought of Tori as he walked home, about her sacrifices and her compassion. Everyone in the neighborhood thought he was the most perfect person in the entire town, but after meeting Tori he didn’t think that he even came close.

He thought of the girl as he walked through the park, wondering if she had ever played on that playground before. He pondered how she had gotten into that cell, to begin with. Was it another one of her choices to be there?

He thought of the cell as he walked into his neighborhood. He wondered why there was a cell there in the alley. What was its purpose? What was in it? It was perplexing and the more he thought about it the more it seemed to slip out of his grasp.

He thought about the door as he walked up to his front porch. He wondered what he might find behind it and what was it doing there. How long had it been there? Had there been a door in that alley?

He stepped into his home and greeted his mother kindly. She was setting the table for dinner and gently berating him for being so late. He sat down with them and told the story of his day exactly how it happened.

He’d gone to school, went to a study group with friends after his morning classes, went to football practice after evening classes, helped set up the school dance, helped take it down, walked straight home past that one alley that he considered but decided against, and then sat down for dinner.

He never quite understood why, but he wasn’t quite as cheery as he had been after that day. It was like there was a little pit of sorrow or guilt in him and for the life of him, he just couldn’t grasp the reason why or where the feeling had come from in the first place.