“I Wouldn’t Wish This on Anyone!...” (Devin’s Diary)
All day, sweat on my neck, sweat on my ass, and my bones practically shaking out of my twitching skin. That's what I get for quitting smoking and dieting on the same day.
Adding to that, my girlfriend, Nancy, just booted me to the curb.
So anyway, I was standing over my kitchen sink, staring at a wet knife, and moping about how I wasn't gonna fall asleep next to the comfort of Nancy, or probably anyone else for awhile.
Misty-eyed, I wandered over, through the living room, to the front door, and stared out of the front porch.
I felt like a island, marooned in the South Pacific. Who would ever find me, but dead fish, and washed up algae and bones?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a mother, and daughter holding hands awkwardly as they ascended the mountain of my street. The gas station was at their backs, and it looked pretty with the sunset streaming behind them.
I tried to check the mother out more. She was wearing an Amish Prayer Cap that almost completely disguised everything.
She seemed to have a limp of some sort that made them shuffle at a strange pace.
Slowly, as if through an hourglass, they passed a street sign, and some topiary animals that looked like lions and sheep.
When they passed Judd Henderson's impressive metal yard art of a man holding a bouquet of flowers, across the street from my house, I realized that the little girl's eyes were missing.
I fell back into the house, and then shot back up to see what was the deal with this duo. The little girl was staring at me from across the street. She yanked her mother's dress, and shuffled towards me as her mother's head whipped around. I tumbled to the ground in fright! Crawling on hands and knees, I peeped out the window in the door again. The mother and daughter were gone.
Suddenly I heard a crash in the kitchen as a window shattered!
I bolted upstairs to the bathroom, and I've locked myself in.
Thankfully, there was a hammer and nails in here. I don't know what those things out there are, but after listening to my cat die a long death, I know they're of another breed. They've been trying to tunnel through the door by biting at it, and soon they will succeed! I've pried the bathroom door open, and I'm going to jump if they're anymore closer to breaking in.
Holy shit!...Oh God, I hear the wood cracking, and things that looks like fingers are starting to emerge from a hole they made!...
Out the window I go!...Wish me luck!...I wouldn't wish this on anyone....
©2017
Bunny Villaire
Comparisons
I was about to compare him to the sun, but I don't want to give credit where it's not due. He's a million times brighter than the sun. My mother always told me not to look directly at anything too bright, but I still can't take my eyes off of him.
I want to compare his laugh to the chorus of my favorite song, you know, the part where you start the whole song over just to hear that one line again and again but I could never get tired of his laugh ringing in my ears the way some of my favorite songs give me headaches.
I almost compared the way he makes me feel to a warm shower on a cold day when your cheeks are red and you can't feel your fingers and your heart is frozen until the water hits you, but it's so much more than that. My heart is always warm when he's around.
He's something, one of a kind, once in a lifetime, and nothing compares.
What’s left?
Gazing at the reflection of my existence
I feel bereft
Is my life finished?
Asking myself, "What's left?"
Seeing my faint likeness
Into my soul is a cleft
Strength is gone
Asking myself, "What's left?"
Studying my dark eyes
My troubles are too heavy to heft
No stamina in my appearance
Asking myself, "What's left?"
Direct stare into the mirror
Desiring for death to come deft
An incomplete image
Asking myself, "What's left?"
ill at mind
I get that feeling inside
And it fills me with fear
I want to run and hide
But there is no safety near
I begin to doubt
That I will get through
And when I cry I pout
Because I deny what's true
Anxiety is the name
Oh it's so unforgiving
I don't want to play its game
I'm never winning
Never will I see
Why this happens to me
An open letter to hypocritical adults
You tell your kids to "play nice."
You tell your kids "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."
And most importantly, you teach your kids the Golden Rule:
"Treat others the way you want to be treated."
Donald Trump you are many things, but you are also a father. And if you tell your young son any of these things, you are a liar. You are a hypocrite. Instead tell him that it's okay to take what isn't yours, that it's ok to be mean to others, that your actions don't have any consequences, tell him that some people are born superior. And some aren't.
I live in a world where we have anti-bullying rules in school but not in politics, where they teach us acceptance and diversity when we're young but preach hate and division to our parents, where we learn about recycling in class but big businessmen tear down our forests, where violence isn't tolerated when we are kids but is the solution to everything for politicians.
I'm just a teenager. But I know this. I know that adults need to remember what they were taught as children. Remember what you are teaching your children. What kind of example do you want to be setting for them? And what kind of world do you want them to grow up in?
Words, Like Snowflakes
Words are like snowflakes.
They all originate from the same substance.
Each one seems the same from a distance
But, depending on where it falls in a story,
They each mean something unique.
And together they make a beautiful
Glittering field of crystalline essences.
They create drifts of vivid history,
Imagination, and concepts.
King of the Riches
"Let us wage war!"
"My Lord, we do not have the resources."
"Tax the poor!"
"My Lord, remember you killed them all. They were spoiling your view."
"Who killed the poor?"
"Your sentinels of the lowest level."
"Then tax them now"
"That you already did, My King. You ordered it in your drunken stupor."
"Then get them killed as they are the New Poor."
"Your wish is my command, Oh Messiah"
"And the tax the corporals as they will be the new sentinels."
"Are you sure O Mighty King! Your are moving them down the value chain.
"Are you questioning my decisions, You seem to be someone poor. OFF WITH HIS HEAD."
"Mercy My Lord, Mercy"
"Oh alright, I am in a good mood. Continue with your gibberish!"
Then send sergeants to tax the corporals."
"The corporals are armed My King."
"This is fun. Whoever wins between the Sergeants and Corporals, gets the title."
"Which title, O' King?"
"The title of the New Poor, O' Foolish Minister."
"And then ..."
"And then sent the lieutenants to kill the New Poor!"
"That will kill most of our army, O' King of Kings!
"Then Let Us Wage A War!"
Where’s Caden?
Mommy and Daddy look so worried.
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I want to ask my daddy what's the matter, but he doesn't like it when I ask him things while he's on the phone.
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Caden, Caden, Caden, my mean older brother's name spoken softly.
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Caden didn't come home from school today.
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I don't mind so much that Caden's missing, because he always hits me when he's here.
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Mommy is crying so much, and she says that Caden is gone.
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The police officer asks many questions.
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Daddy promises that we will find who killed him.
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I don't think they can really catch the killer, but I nod anyway to make Mommy and Daddy feel better.
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They would never think I killed my brother.
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