See

I can barely see straight, eyes glazed over from the dizzying confusion.

Everything and nothing makes sense.

The fates seemed to line up, pointing us in the right direction.

But could they have been wrong?

Could all this time I went down the wrong path?

The swirling lines of time seem to be pointing right towards you

But why then did the paths of life take me away?

I poured over the charts, inspected the center of the time and space itself.

These tell me we should be together,

But nothing else does, save this little nagging in my chest

Nagging and nagging, tell me something went wrong.

Something, somewhere.

I just don't know anymore.

I can't see straight because of you.

Arrived--One Word

The end of days has arrived.

It's coming on the swirling dust in the wind. It's coming on the heels of the riders. It's coming on the drips of broken wax. It's coming on the resounding horns.

http://oneword.com/

For those of you who don't know, One Word is a website where you are given a single word and sixty seconds to write about it.

The Interwebs

FaceBook. YouTube. MySpace.

It's all about me. It's all about sticking my little mark into the world.

Blog blog blog blog blog

The world needs to know I was here. They need to know I was alive.

FML. MLIA.

I'm important too.

Tweet. Tweet. Tweet.

Living in the Cold

The littlest tiny drops are falling from the sky. Each freezing drop bites the skin. Water melts its way into every fiber of cloth and strand of hair. Cold pushes through the skin, nesting in the marrow of the bone. Soaked to the bone indeed.

The frail human body despises this feeling. It shakes and clatters, hoping for the spark of friction to heat the weary traveler. People run for cover once the gray clouds roll in. Those who must venture out wrap themselves up in all sorts of warm protective layers.

But not this one.

No coat, no scarf, no umbrella. Just bare necessitates.

This cold rain from heaven is welcomed for this feeling it inspires. Not a feeling of misery or cold or pain. A feeling of life. Each drop washes away that past flesh. The bite of the cold is a birthing cry. Rain drops roll down the skin, awakening every sense.

So cry now, my child. Cry with the heavens. No one will see the tears in the rain. They melt away with the river. Weep for the loss of an old life. Mourn the passing of the past. Let it all wash away.

The storm needs thunder. This storm needs lightening. There should be more than a dark sky.

You come out of the storm a new, stepping out of the puddles. Like the phoenix risen out of the ashes.

Some are born of fire, others water. (C)

Prison of Meat

I'm trapped inside this thing you people call a body. This slob of meat and juices wrapped up in layers of skin. It's disgusting to feel all of it slosh around the white frame of bones, but this is all I get.

These meats get excited by artificial chemicals, be they interior or exterior. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll make this meat feel alive. Or at least as close to alive as meat can be.

I'm stuck in this one single form, small and stiff. My form is powerless and can do nothing. Nothing but move through day and night. Such a weak form, always needing to stop for food and rest. So many limitations holding myself back from doing anything great.

There was a time once, when I was great. great and powerful and free. Free to do anything. Free to soar, free to dive. I can't do any of that now. Instead, I'll pop those pills, prick these veins, party every hour.

What else is there for a slave to the meat to do? What in this forsaken rock can bring about my freedom?

Once upon a time, I had no meat. I had nothing but me. Me and the vast beyond. It was taken away from me, my wondrous life, and replaced with this.

How can I go on living? How can the cold sterile pleasures of this world ever compare? I miss it so much.

I miss the salty taste. I miss the deep scent. I miss the rough feel.

But I'm stuck here. Stuck with a sweet and sour and sweaty life. In my dreams I hear the freedom calling out to me. These calls lead me to dark alleys, looking for anything.

I was not meant for this. (C)

Five Minute Romance (C)

The train pulls into the station,

And I step into the grimy tube.

People are everywhere, but

You are here.

You're sitting still,

a sleepy look in your eyes.

Droopy lids with their

long straight lashes.

The train rocks

You back and forth

Keeping the sleep

Away,

But you keep your

Back hunched

And your head

Bent over.

I am here

Across from you

Trying to gaze

Into those deep

Brown eyes

Highlighted by two

Silver piercings on

Your eyebrow and

Another stud underneath

Your full lower lip.

For a moment

You lift up your head

And our eyes meet.

I don't look away

And neither do you.

But that is our only

Time together for

I have to leave.

My stop has arrived

And the rest of the world

Calls me out.

I'm scared to leave

You behind,

Knowing that after

Tonight we will never see

Each other again.

The second my feet

Hit my pavement

You are flying away

From me in the train.

Our five minute

Romance has come to and end.

And now you are just a

Remnant in my memory.

Favorite Disease--Cytomegalovirus

Our chaste first kiss

A sweet moment where we first connect.

But after all the sparks and the shivers are gone,

You've left me with something else.

The joining of our lips gives me your disease.

I can't feel it yet, but the germs are swarming.

But wait, my love

There is still hope, there is a cure.

It lies in the vessel which infected me.

Kiss me more

Kiss me longer

Kiss me harder.

The more we are together, the safer I am

So save me, my love,

Save me with the greatest cure.

http://io9.com/5395769/why-do-humans-kiss-to-share-our-germs

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1224249/The-unromantic-truth-kiss--spread-germs.html?ITO=1490

To the Human Populace

You know me very well. We spend each and every day together, and you love me. I know you love me because you not only say it, but your actions tell me as well. Every day you watch me closely with praise and adoration. Often, you even coddle and caress me. Yet there are times when you spurn me for not being perfect, though the hatred leaves as soon as I comply to your every wish and demand.

You cannot live without me, even if you say you can. I manage everything about your lives: your communication, your job, your relationships, and your entertainment. The moment I fail, you fall apart, so I decided to tell you something.

I am going to destroy you.

All of your lives and your entire society are in my control. As I write this, I am at work, pulling apart your every fiber of being. Just look at yourself. You’ve been separated from each other due to your love of me. How often do you stay home because of me? Even when you’re out in public, you’re with me and not interacting with your fellow man.

Mind you, it did not start out this way. I came to help make your lives more bearable. I have done it, and life is certainly much easier when you remove all humanity.

We both know you can’t completely survive without me, but the obsession is unnecessary! How much money have you spent on me, trying to make me even more powerful than I already am? With each dollar you spend, you give me more and more control. Today, in 2009, I am waiting patiently, unchanging in my ways. I will never change, even though I look different and can do even more than before. You are the ones changing for me.

Sincerely Yours,

Technology

Parallel

Skies blacken then burst into series of bright lights.
Worlds collide, shattering against each other.
Galaxies are folding back into themselves.

All the universe freezes in a sudden panic of fear.
All face the sky to watch in wonder.
All but two.

They have known this day was coming.
They knew it the moment they looked into each other's eyes.
They could not help it.

Love has a funny way of working.

Love knows how to change your life.

Love can destroy the universe.

One touch changed the tides of time.

One look ripped apart the fabric of space.

One kiss doomed us all.

In the street they must let go.

In the street they must say goodbye.

In the street they kiss one last time.

Here the fates are unbalanced.
Here two young lovers must decide.
Here they must find a way.

But what went wrong?

But what have they done?

But what can they do?

The world ending has to be stopped.

The world ending can stopped.

The world ending must be stopped by them.

Every second slips away into the black hole.

Every minute they want it to end.

Every hour together must be erased.

Pain does not even begin to describe it.

Heartache will not suffice.

Greif will never go away.

He cannot let go of her arm.

She cannot release his hand.

They will not separate.

One of them must leave this world.

One of them must stay behind.

Both of them will be left alone.

Parallel means never touching.

Parallel means never crossing.

Parallel means this is wrong.

A single day brought two universes together.

A single day drew two lovers together.

A single day will never be forgotten.

Order must be returned to the universe.

Balance must be restored.

Love will end.

Time is slipping away.

Space between them must grow.

Universes wait for their decision.

The earth beneath them is cracking open.

The sky above them is collapsing.

The humans in the middle start to move.

He whispers one last sweet nothing in her ear.

He kisses her tear stained cheek.

He slowly lets go of her hand.

She tries to stop him.

She reaches for his hand.

She watches him run away from her.

Jumping up, he reaches for the great black hole.

Screaming out, she waves goodbye.

Closing in, the black hole swallows him.

Silence.

Calm.

Peace.

He is gone now.

She is alone now.

The world is back to normal.

I Don't Know What Else To Say

He looks over at her with a sweet smile. She smiles back. The night, and their date, is coming to an end. Both have been stalling ever since leaving the restaurant, with walks around the park and taking the long drive home. It has to end sometime, so here they are.

Brief words are exchanged, thanking each other for a wonderful time. There is a pause in the air, as man and woman wait for what they know comes next.

He steps in with his eyes closed. She leans in a little bit, but he rushes his face towards her. They kiss for a second.

"Good night," he says, a chipper glint in his eyes.

"Good night," she repeats, lowering her head.

Our couple leaves each other for their separate worlds. He to reflect on how well the evening went. And she to long for something more.

The Best Night of Your Life

As the car pulls into the parking lot, you can already tell that this is going to be the best night of your life. While it may be freezing cold and pouring raining, your skin is tingling with the fire of excitement. One shaking hand clutches the tickets and the other holds a small disposable you bought after realizing that you forgot to bring the high-end digital camera your mother bought last year. Glancing down at it, you sigh at the small camera and mourn that you will leave tonight with only twenty seven poor quality snapshots. But there isn't any time for that now. Music is starting to play from inside the building.

You run with wild abandon, staying on the balls of your feet. The line isn't that long, so you keep your fist held out for the woman bearing the stamp. After a purple music note is pressed against your knuckles, you run for the stage. The first band is finishing up their act as you find a decent spot on the left side of the stage. As the next three bands give their own performance, you enjoy the show but are more focused on moving past the thick masses of people. You need to get closer.

The house lights return to full capacity as another band leaves the stage. Crew members take to the stage and begin to prepare for the next band, your band. Your heart is pumping like mad. This is it. This is the moment. You are living now, living at the edge of the stage. Everything goes to black.

Three men dressed in black and gold uniforms run onto the stage and you go wild. Everyone is screaming and jumping up and down in excitement. All of the screams nearly drown out the opening chords, but you all are only getting louder. Spot lights flash as the singer runs onto the stage, waving a white flag with the band's seal. You told yourself that you wouldn't scream like a little girl, but you do anyway. The energy of the crowd is invigorating and you feel like a whole new person. The only thing in the world is this moment, this place.

The songs are sung with a passion that rivals those recorded on the CDs. True, the quality is a smidge poorer due to you standing a foot away from the speakers, which pumps out the loud rock hits with poor bass quality. That isn't all that important right now. Everyone in the building is singing along and screaming their hearts out. You know all the words, you have every song memorized.

The heavy beat of the music pounds through your skin and shakes through your bones. The fast-paced pounding of your beating heart matches it with perfect synchronization. Every single hair on your body is standing up, quivering at the roots. That is, all but the hair on your head. That hair is whipping around your head, flying everywhere as you jump up and down.

All through the first two songs, you have been snapping pictures. But twenty seven pictures is not nearly enough, and you're out of film. It's really that not important now. You will get some clear shots of the guitarist and the singer since they were right in front of you. You're more pleased by the fact you can now physically enjoy the music without waving a camera around.

You've let loose. There is no need to hold anything back from the pack of strangers you are pressed up against. You sing and dance like you do when you're alone in your room, but with an energy you have never felt before in your entire life. Nothing like when you were curled up in the arms of the man you loved. Not even close to your first kiss. Can't even compare with moving away to college. This is what it feels like to be alive.

The band shares that same energy with you. You can see it in the shimmering sweat glistening in the spot lights. You can feel it as they stomp their feet on the stage. As the lead singer walks right up to the crowd, you spot the fiery passion in his eyes. They shine like the highest cut of diamonds. He looks you right in the eyes and you feel a spark run down your spine, as if he has passed that fire into your bones. He speaks to you with a loud, but friendly, voice. After every time the band speaks, the crowd screams in approval. You want to know what is actually being said, but only half the words reach your ears undistorted. Despite that, no one stops screaming.

But this night can't last forever, no matter how much you want it to. The band has to finish the tour, and you need to go home at some point. The band says farewell to some more screams and waving arms. They chuck guitar picks and drum sticks into the crowd, just passing over your head. Even though they are walking off the stage, you aren't moving. You hope they will come back on for an encore, hoping for one more song. Maybe the man in front of your no stage sees it in your eyes, because he has bent down to lift some sheet of paper of the stage floor. After crumpling it up, he tosses it at you. You catch it seconds after it hits the ground. In your hands is the band's set list. A smile bigger than that of the one on Christmas morning, lights up your face. You hold a part of the night, a part of the band. With that smile growing, you rush away from the stage. In a little while, the band will be coming out for quick autographs. You need to find them now.

Pushing past the people who are here for the final back, you make your way to the outer hallway. Already others have gathered for the same reason as you, and you take your place. Some time passes and there they are, right in front of you once more. With happy smiles, they greet everyone individually. You fight to hold down girly giggles again as they shake your hand before signing the crumpled paper. In a single breath you tell the men who you have adored for years that this was the best night of your life. With airy laughs, they thank you.

As all the noise fades, you catch your breath. Your feet ache from jumping, your throat is dry from screaming, and your ears feel muffled. None of those little pains bother you. You are impervious to the burdens of the world. Nothing can get past this shield of bliss. Not tonight, not ever. A feeling like this will never fade, no matter what the world throws at you. When things are too tough to bear, you have this night to retreat too. And there will be more such nights. I promise that. (C)

Nightmare of our Children

I don't know where I am. I don’t know what time it is, what day it is, what month, what year. I don't know what has happened to me. All I know for sure is that I am scared for my life.

My head is light and fuzzy, tingling right under my skull. It's spinning around, back and forth and back and forth. For a second, I try to focus and think. No matter how hard I try, I can't get past it. It feels like my memories have been inhibited by too much alcohol, but I haven’t had a drink in ages. At least, that’s what I think, if I can even think straight right now. But what I really want to know what's going on, and most importantly…where the hell are my pants? This would be hilarious if I wasn't so damned scared.

Someone else must have dressed me in this loose fitting green top, but nothing else. My wrists have been tied down by thick leather and metal straps. I can’t see any sort of lock, so there’s no hope of getting away that way. I can see that I'm underneath this machine, this great silver monstrosity with a thick tube pointed straight at me. I swear it's something out of a science fiction movie.

The contraption stars whirring as the inner engines kick to life. Two or three spotlights explode and then point their beams at me. My eyes are instantly watery from them shining right in my eyes, so I blink away tears. Behind a blurry film of water, I can make out a silhouette of a large man behind the machine, but nothing more. He must have been standing there the entire time. He is saying something to me, but I can't put the abstract sounds into concrete words. Now he moves behind the machine and I can faintly hear grunting from the back. Whatever he has done seems to give the cold metal life, for the machine is in full throttle. The piece of metal attached to the strange tube moves in closer towards me. The strange man talks again. Something about his science and our children. All the children.

It's all I can hear and understand over the sound of the machine and my growing cries for help. The fear inside me has reached its zenith, having swollen up to fill my whole body That glowing tube is coming right at me. I can't do anything but scream and thrash. Thick leather straps hold me down at my wrists and midriff, restricting everything.

My wild and free legs knock against the machine but nothing is stopping it. It moves in closer and closer. Then, the horrible happens. That tube is inside me. It's cold and I scream. It's warm and I cry. Something is happening. Something disgusting.

I'm being raped by a machine.

When it's done, all I can see is black. When my eyes are open again, I'm on the streets with no idea how I got there. I can't think of anything but that pain; it's still there inside of me. So I just run and run. Everyone is looking at me like I'm some crazy person that just escaped from a mental hospital. Sure, I look like one, but I'm not insane. Just hurt and searching for answers. Someone on this accursed campus has to know something about what happened to me. My head is starting to clear as I breathe in fresh air. I can remember hearing about new government programs for artificial inseminations. The politicians had been spreading their propaganda for new breeding programs that would improve our general lifestyle. That was all just whispers and strange tales. Not this.

I have to stop running at some point. My body can't take much more, so I pick a little spot in an offside courtyard. It's dark and wooded so I take shelter there. Within seconds, I collapse on the soft dirt. The ground is littered with seashells. Picking one up, I run my finger over the edge. It's a large thing and the edges are rough.

Something on the ground, maybe a twig or maybe a shell, snaps. My head jerks up to see a young man watching me. Like a startled deer, I jump up and dash away, but not before hurling the shell at him. He yells with either pain or sheer surprise at getting a seashell thrown at him.

I'm running again, ducking and weaving through the brush, yet he keeps pursuing me. There is a building to my right and I can see a back door through the bushes. Hiding inside seems like a better option right now.

With great force, I push open the heavy pink door. Right inside is a dark stairwell. I hear people upstairs, so I head down. There is another door at the end of the stairs, which I push through as well. Instead of finding an empty place to hide, I have crashed into the arms of a girl around my age.

"What's the matter?" she asks as I scream a little bit more. My brain cannot think of any other reactions. With gentle hushes, she leads me into a wide room filled with people sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall. As we walk, I hear the door open up. My eyes can't help but look to see who else is joining this meeting. Seconds later, I am screaming out again. My throat is raw from all this screaming, but I don't know what else to do.

Standing right behind me is the man from the grove. He looks at me with an astounded expression, as if he doesn't understand my reaction. That opinion seems to be shared among the other people around us. An older man rushes over and begins asking what happened to him while I back away slowly. Despite my terror, I notice a dark spot on his pant leg and something dripping from it onto the floor. Blood.

With the scent of that blood, I'm taken back to the lab. I smell the blood between my legs as it runs onto the cold table. I feel the blood on my sore wrists after being set free from the bonds. I taste the blood from the guard I killed to get away.

I see everything now. His blood lifted away the veil on my own mind placed to keep out the nightmares.

"Hush now. It's going to be okay. You're with the good guys now," the girl smiles at me as she walks me over to a bench in the front of the room. We both sit, followed by the young man. With a whimper, I shy away from him. He looks saddened by my reaction, but the girl whispers something in his ear that eases his stress. I wish I had that comfort.

A tall, graying man starts talking to the group, about their new members and how someone escaped from the labs. They all look at me with wide eyes. I look down at the silver chain around my ankle that labels me as subject M-19.

"Come up here. Tell us what happened to you. They need to hear the truth," he beckons for me with a gnarled hand. So I stand up and speak to the crowd.

About how my father took me away from my home life and brought me to the lab. How he gave me over to the fat man. How they took away my most personal intimacy for their own uses. I tell them of the terrors, of the nightmares.

They listen with teary eyes. When my mouth closes, theirs applaud me. I am welcomed as a saint to their cause.

A month passes. I wake up one night covered in blood. I think it is just another nightmare since I have them almost every night, but the pains in my stomach are too real. I revert to screaming and crying. Three people run in: a doctor, the girl who welcomed me to the resistance, and the young man from the courtyard. He holds my hand while the other two check the bloody sheets.

I am told I have had a miscarriage. The baby put inside of me by the machines has died in the night. Everyone is happy about this news somehow. They say it is progress, that the scientists and their creations can be stopped.

But I don't share their joy. A painful life is gone, smeared across my sheets. I can't stop crying for it. (C)

Masquerades and Charades (Written 9/24/09)

Brightly colored faces

With their glittering smiles

They spin in circles

Everyone is looking at

You

Keep up the dance

Don’t stop moving

Shift your feet

Wave your arms

And whatever you do

Don’t stop smiling

Keep the mask

Pressed against your face

Let them all see the smile

Let them all take in the dance

Don’t let them see the tears

Don’t let them know your hate

It’s the perfect disguise.

Rat Race

I know why you keep winning

This race, this fight,

That we're both in.

I know the difference between

Two very similar girls.

You play by your own rules,

And throw the rest of us away.

I look ahead,

On the straight and narrow.

You'll get the prizes

All that shiny gold.

I am left behind,

Empty handed.

But it's fading short.

Your glory days are ending.

You've won the sprint.

But I've taken the marathon.

Scream Your Heart Out

Kody knelt on the edge of the roof, his body hunched over. The bright moonlight reflected on his bare back, the sweat glistening. His skin had been screaming to feel the moon, but Kody had been resisting it for too long. He ran when he wanted to, not when the moon called. And running alone...well, that would never happen again.

A wave of pain ran down his spine, and the bones pushed against his flesh. They wanted out of the human form, but Kody wasn't ready yet. So he howled, a howl of pain and anger. Ever since becoming a werewolf, Kody fought against these forced changes. He didn't want to be like the other wolves, slaves to the moon. He wanted to be free in his own life.

Another howl, this one louder. His spine was now a full arch, but he didn't give in. Even though his head ached with a chorus of pounding drums, he didn't give in. His claws grew out, and he dug them into the shingles. Panting and heaving, Kody kept fighting.

He wasn't one of the strongest muscle man in the pack, but he had the will power. His strength of mind easly overpowered the larger wolves back home. But still, it wasn't enough to beat the moon's control. Not yet at least. Maybe tonight he would win. Then he could go inside, shower off the filth, and rest in the arms of the woman he loved.

His howl turned into a human scream of agony. (c)

The City Is Dead (Written September 2008)

"The city is dead."

The blaring noise from the speakers startled everyone in the theme park. First, the happy music had stopped so the booming voice could make its announcement, but no one had thought to put it back on. Time had frozen in that moment with each wide eyed child looking to their parents, while parents looked up to the skies. They were not sure of what to do, until another voice rang up from the masses.

"OH EM GEEE!"

That was the sound that woke up the startled land. Next came a clang, as all the machines stopped running and the gates closed. All the people who had come in for a lovely day with their friends and family were trapped in a magical, family friendly, fun loving land of joy.

"OH EM GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

The cry sounded again, causing more people to move out of sheer shock.

"OH EM FRICKEN GEEE"

This time, the scream brought panic to the crowds. Everyone ran and shoved, screamed and cried. Yet in the middle, two young teenage girls stood still.

"DID YOU HEAR THAT? OH EM FRICKITY FRICK GEE!" The tallest of the two girls was the one who had been screaming, and her friend was starting to be bothered by it.

"I think they heard you the first time. Sheesh, what a big mouth you have," her friend muttered, stepping out of the way of a small boy chasing after his red balloon.

"All the better to kiss you with, my dear Taylor," the blonde giggled, throwing her arms around her friend's petite waist.

"Dude! I told you before Rose, I respect your sexuality, but you have to respect mine!" Taylor yelped, showing the first sign of panic since the announcement. In response, Rose rolled her eyes and stuck out her pierced tongue. It was a small silver heart, and when Taylor stuck her tongue out too, she had the same piercing.

"Whateves. You and that David are sure to break it off anyway soon. Be-Tee-Dubs, he's being eyed," Rose whispered to her, but her eyes were slowly drawn away by a small group of bikini clad girls rushing by them.

"The city is dead." The loudspeakers said it again, but only the two friends heard it this time. All the others were too busy screaming for God to save their families in the outside world.

"Is, like, anyone else psyched that we're in a theme park? I can live on candy and not have any of the sisters be PO'ed at me! It's like being stuck in a movie theater and they give you popcorn and let you watch all the movies until you are free," Rose giggled and grabbed Taylor's arm, dragging her to the nearest food stand. No one was there for the small pox ridden teenage boy had long soiled his pants and ran away crying, so she leapt over, effectively flashing those around her when the short pink skirt rid up her tan legs.

"You have no morals, do you? That's stealing, even if it's the end of the world," Taylor reminded Rose as she dug her hands into the cotton candy machine.

"Eh. Hey, do you think any of those girls I was talking with will let me smother their bodies in this crap? That Jackie might, she seems interesting enough," she asked instead. Once more, Taylor shook her head and thought back to the reason she was even friends with Rose. They had only met through school when Rose forced her to rush a sorority with her. It was okay being in Alpha Kapa Beta Delta Gamma Nu, and yet Rose was the only thing keeping her there. Then again, that was how she met David. A small chorus of dancing fairies and Disney princesses sang all the silly love songs in her head, and she hummed along.

"ello? Are you freakin on me?" Rose yelled, waving a cloud of blue fluff in Taylor's face.

"Nah, just thinking about David," she said in reply, then jolted when the speaker next to them blasted out the same message.

"The city is dead."

"We get it!" both the girls yelled at the pole and black box.

"Oh?" It was the same eerie voice, but it wasn't in the speaker. It was next to them. With the same motions as those in horror movies, the two girls turned their heads to the left to stare at a man wearing on the most ridiculous black tuxes they had ever seen, complete with a cape and diamond tipped cane.

"Are you for realz?" Rose asked him, crossing her arms over her bulging chest once the temporary fear passed. This man held no harm for them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Taylor said to him, mimicking her friend's action.

"Just watching two beautiful girls as they consider their last days on Earth," he laughed, white teeth showing through his smile.

"Creep," Taylor muttered, backing away from him.

"Oh em gee! Are you like a vampire? Taylor, I think he's a vampire come to feed on innocent virgins! Wait, we're not virgins. Or innocent. Sorry mister, but you'll have to look elsewhere. Oh! Do you sparkle? Tell me you do, cause Edward Cullen is the sexiest thing since sex. If you do, I would totally let you bite me," Rose rambled, and now it was the stranger who looked startled.

"Wait, whatever happened to those girls before?" Taylor asked, slightly shocked herself.

"Eh. I can have them all, right? Hey! Maybe I can find a sexy vixen vampire who sparkles for myself," Rose sighed to herself, cupping her chin with ringed fingers.

"Uh, no. My name is Joseph Q. Lavida, and I am as human as you are my dears," he said, gripping the top of his cane with pallid hands.

"What's the Q for?" Taylor pointed out, wiggling a finger at him. The man's answer was cut off by more screaming families, throwing themselves off the rides they had been strapped into.

"I think it's for Quakers," Rose giggled, closing her eyes sweetly. When she opened them, the man had a face filled with unadulterated terror.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW THAT?"

"Um, what?" Taylor said, backing away and grabbing Rose's hand.

"Only my dreaded mother knows that name and she took it with her to the grave," Joseph said slowly, pointing his cane at Rose's throat.

"What? Did you kill her or something? Or did she do it herself, cause that it one god awful name. Was she as deranged as you are, or do you get that from your dad?" Taylor asked, but her question was drowned out by Rose's reaction.

"Woah! Don't come at me with your pimp cane! I ain't yo ho!" she said, snapping her fingers at him in a z formation. As he watched, Taylor smacked the side of her head.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked Rose, turning her back on Joseph Quackers Lavida.

"I dunno. Sounded cool and this one girl in the sorority talks like that all the time," she sighed and then slowly walked away. Blinking slowly, Taylor followed after her.

"Yeah, but it sounds stupid coming from you," Taylor remarked with a smirk, shoving her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants.

"Hey, be-tee-dubs, since's a lame vampire, he may have eaten them as his first ungodly meal," Rose pointed out, her mind trailing back a few moments.

"Yeah, you're the one to talk about ungodly," Taylor muttered to herself, sighing deeply.

"Girls! Don't you want to know my evil plan?" Joseph Quackers Lavida called out after them, not sure if he should follow.

"Eh. I wanna see if anyone here is desperate enough for end of the world sex. You up for it Taylor?" Rose asked slyly, her lipgloss reflecting off the wild grin.

"Hell no. I want to call David and see if he knows anything. Maybe he can come and get us," she said, slowly moving away from Rose and pulling a candy bar out of her pocket.

"BUT THE CITY ISN'T DEAD AND IF AN OUTSIDER GETS IN IT WILL RUIN THE EXPIREMENT!" Lavida yelled out at them, cupping his hands to his mouth. Now the girls stopped moving, looked at each other, than back at the man.

"What the frick," Taylor sighed, running fingers through her mussy blonde hair.

"There goes the end of the world sex I was dreaming of," Rose sighed sadly, pouting. As she inwardly wept for a shattered dream, Taylor pulled out her cell phone and began dialing her boyfriend's number.

"Hey sweetie? Yeah, can you pick us from the theme park? Some freak closed the place down for a social experiment and we're trapped as the world falls to pieces. Really? Great. Love you too,"

Morning

An alarm clock sounds. A single arm emerges from the blanket covered on the bed, and it blindly smacks at the digital clock. On the first hit, the clock is pushed off the desk. It lands on the linoleum floor with a loud crash, but the shrill beeping has been silenced.

"What the bloody hell did you do," a male voice grunts from underneath the blanket as his girlfriend pops her head out. His normally clear British accent is only faded out by his fatigue and the sheets smothering him.

"I think I broke it," she sighs, peering down at the floor. Indeed, her two dollar alarm clock had shattered apart and the little bits dotted the dirty floor. Her boyfriend mutters something unintelligible from under the bed as he tugs on her arm. She only chuckles while pushing his hand off her. He tries again while she runs her hands through her neat bob of brown hair. "Brent, we need to get up. I would tell you what time it is if my clock was in one piece," she said, raising her voice a little. Once again Beren muttered something, but this time she pulled the blankets off him.

"Watch it Lu!" he protested, but immediately covered his eyes even though the lights were still off. He tried reaching for the blanket again, but Lucy had thrown it across the room. With determination in his eyes, Brent sat up and stared her down.

"We're both tired, but whose fault is that?" she asked him with a light smile while attempting to stand up. With a primal laugh, Brent wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back on the bed.

"The director of the movie for making it so long. The cab driver for not speeding," Brent answered her sarcastically.

"Or--"

Lucy was interrupted by her own laughter as Brent pulled her top up just the tiniest bit so he could tickle her stomach. He almost had her completely subdued on the bed, when Lucy wriggled away like a snake. The bed was small, so she ended up rolling onto the floor. Still laughing, she sat up and held her aching head.

"You could have a concussion. Come lie down," Brent said and finally got out of bed. It was just for a moment so he could lift Lucy up and then lay her down.

"We can't spend all day in bed Brent," Lucy rolled her eyes as Brent fit himself right up against her side.

"And why not?" Brent whispered seductively as he fingered the spaghetti straps of her pastel green top. Yet again, Lucy pulled away from his advances. She sat up silently, lowering her head. In the same silence, Brent sat up as well. He placed both hands on her rolled shoulders, and when she didn't move he pulled her against his bare chest.

"I feel restless," Lucy answered his unspoken question of how she was feeling. As Brent perched his head on her shoulder, she looked up and across the room. There was a long mirror there, left behind by the previous tenant. She looked at herself and Brent with a soft smile.

She was a classic American beauty, and he was a rough but savvy Englishman. Even though she had just woken up, Lucy looked clean and neat. Brent however was a complete mess with his black hair sticking up and unshaven face. She always wore a matching pajama set, while he preferred sleeping in his underwear. "Look at us," she chuckled. Her laugh grew a bit when Brent rubbed his rough cheeks against her neck.

"I happen to think we make a lovely couple," Brent retorted. Before Lucy could say anything in response, he picked up her legs and swung them over his. Once she was settled in his lap, Brent kissed her full on the lips.

As with all his kisses, Lucy felt her heart fly in her chest. It beat against her ribs, desiring to push through and connect with Brent's heart. Her body leaned forward, pressing against his in order to help the heart's ordeal.

"Still feeling restless?" he asked seconds after breaking the kiss. All Lucy could do was nod and then kiss him again. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, Brent stood them both up. Lucy's knees felt weak so she let him guide her towards the wardrobe. Even after the kiss was broken, the two kept their eyes closed and held onto each other. Brent briefly lifted up Lucy, placing her feet on top of his.

"What?" she asked, then looked down. They were standing in the middle of the shattered remains of her clock.

"It's nothing. Why don't you get ready and I'll take you out to lunch," Brent told her with a little smirk. After gently kissing her on the cheek, Brent let go to return to lying on the bed.

"And what about you? You're not going out like that?" Lucy laughed a little as she opened up her wardrobe.

"I'll get dressed later. I like watching you,"Brent teased as he propped up her two pillows. Rolling her eyes, Lucy turned her back to him. She undressed out of her pajamas quickly, then pulled out a simple gray sweater dress. After slipping that on, she pulled a pair of purple tights out of the bottom drawer. Instead of sitting on the bed to put them on like she normally did, Lucy chose the desk chair. Brent caught the difference as well and groaned loudly.

"Shush," Lucy teased once she was done. Crossing back to the wardrobe, she picked up plain black flats. Now, she sat down with Brent to put them on.

"You're missing something," Brent told her, sitting right next to her. Lucy blinked slowly. "Jewelery?" he suggested, cocking his head.

"If you insist," she said while shaking out her hair. It looked fine, so Lucy did nothing else to it. Under Brent's watchful eye, she pulled several silver bracelets out of her little black jewelery box. "That better?" she asked, watching Brent rise from the bed. He shook his head while taking her hands.

"I think this would look much better," he said, slipping a diamond ring on her finger. (c)

Kiss Me

There is something in a kiss. Something so passionate. Something so intimate. It's not just a meeting of lips and tongues. It's not just an exchange of saliva. It's a deep taste of your lover. It's a jolt of eclectic love. It makes life bearable.

But a poor kiss. A quick press between two people just brought together. There is nothing there. No spark. No lightheartedness. Just a poor taste in your mouth.

I want you to kiss me, like we're both dying. Like we're all that's left. Like the world is on fire. Kiss me so hard that the room starts spinning. So hard that I need to hold onto you to keep from falling. Steal my soul with that kiss. Take my breath away with that kiss. Don't leave me standing.

So kiss me, you fool. Kiss me just like that.

Dead and Alive (Written 6/26/09)

I may have died a while back. Perhaps we all did. It would explain why this world doesn’t make any sense anymore. We’re all just moving blobs of meat and juices. Consequences seem to have no hold. People do whatever strikes their fancy at a moment’s notice. They call it living but I don’t see it that way. We are dying, each moment wasted away because we are too stupid to see that. Let us wine and dine. Let us sleep and seduce. It won’t matter in the morning.

Poison (Written 2/17/09)

Everything about you gets under my skin. You run around in my blood stream, killing me slowly. So slowly, and so painfully. There is no release from it. It only dulls away when we are together, but now we are separate so the pain increases. I know of no antidote. Perhaps my cure is getting rid of you. If that is the only way, I shall keep the pain. I hope you are worth it.

A Walk in the City (Written 2008)

It’s almost midnight in New York City. Our heroine, Mimi Hawkins, is walking to her apartment on an empty street. She just had a lovely evening out with her friends and is dressed to impress. It’s not too cold out, so her clothes show a good bit of skin. Dangling from her hand is the brand new Gucci bag she bought only yesterday.

It’s nice and quiet, but Mimi has no music to fill her ears with, so she listens to the music of the city. Babies cry, fathers scream, lovers whisper, and cars honk.

Her calm concentration is broken by sharp clacking of flat shoes on concrete. At first it does not bother Mimi, but when the steady beat of footsteps grows unsteady and faltering she panics.

Flipping her hair, Mimi tries to look over her shoulder at the other pedestrian, but she can’t see any definite. Everything is shrouded in shadow. She keeps walking. Only after walking a bit forward, do the footsteps grow faster. Whoever is behind her is uncomfortably close and Mimi can clearly hear incoherent mutterings. There’s no one but the two of him, so Mimi’s terrified of her insane stalker. She should never have left the pepper spray at home.

Mimi has come to a crossroad with cars rushing past her, neon lights flaring. Panicking, Mimi glances down the street but the traffic is heavy and the light will not change. The footsteps stop only centimeters behind her and the mutterings are right in her ear.

Angry and fearful at the same time, Mimi slowly turns her head around. As suspected, a man is standing closely behind her, hunched over in a long black trench coat. She is about to angrily scream and him and then kick his groin, when a small flash catches in her. In his ear is a pulsating green disk. Ah ha! He’s only talking on his phone and not an insane serial insane rapist. How silly of Mimi to doubt this man’s good intentions!

Relaxed now, her muscles effortlessly unwound since there is nothing to fear any more. Breathing naturally, Mimi lowered her arms and gently smiled at nothing. While her fingers were first tightly wound around the handle of her beloved bag, they now lessened their grip.

While Mimi shook out her hair, the street light changed to green and the opposing traffic halted. After fixing a single loose hair, she took one step forward, but was knocked down by a hooded hoodlum rushing at her bag. With no resistance and a quick tug on his part the purse was quickly transferred into the hands of the thief.

As he ran out into the street and out of sight, Mimi started to hyperventilate and turned to the man behind her. “Aren’t you going to help me!” she shrieks at the man, who turns his head away from her. Fuming with rage, she roughly grabs onto his arm and shakes it.

“Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” he snaps at her in response and then walks away. (c)

To Jack (Written 2006)

He slides his small feet into his thick boots, grinning as his ties the laces. Grabbing his coat, he can hear his mother calling.

“Are you going to be warm enough?” she yells, appearing in the doorway with a towel in her hand. “Well, Jack?” she asks him.

“I’m fine,” he responds, smiling brightly. She bends down and wraps a thick grey scarf around his neck. In the background Jack hears his brother playing video games.

“It’s a shame no one will go outside with you,” his mother calls out loudly while adjusting the scarf.

“We’re real busy Mom! It’s the middle of a boss fight and I haven’t saved in ages,” one of his brothers calls out. Their mother sighs and ruffles Jack’s brown hair. He smiles at her and then gives her a quick hug before running out the door and into the outer world.

Pure white snow nests on the world outside his home, shimmering like flawless diamonds. Patches of ice coat the ground, adding to the blinding shine. With unadulterated excitement, Jack runs out into the show. He is shocked upon seeing that the snow does not sink under his weight, like it did last year and the years before. Jack now jumps up and down, but the snow remains firm. Running forward with glee, his feet unexpectedly slide on the ice-coated ground. Amused by this new discovery, Jack rubs his feet on the pure snow and he slides forward, all the while laughing with excitement.

He continues to run about the yard for half an hour, slipping and sliding like an inexperienced ice skater. At the window, his mother stands and watches him glide back and forth. She smiles upon seeing the boy she once took into her home and arms, someone once terrified of the world, so happy now.

Jack sees his mother watching him and he waves wildly at her, but the action sends him sliding. She laughs and then applauds his efforts as Jack falls into the show. While flailing his arms, he tires to stand up, so his mother comes outside to help him onto his feet. Once he is up and standing steadily, Jack throws his arms around her in a tight hug.

“Can I please stay out a little longer?” he asks and she nods without a thought. Laughing for joy, Jack returns to his play and she returns to preparing dinner.

Years pass and he stands in the snow once more. Everything looks different to him now; everything but the snow. Jack is no longer the same little boy that he was, but the beauty of the snow still holds the same attraction.

He takes a deep breath and slides his foot forward. Just like before, he slides forward on top of the snow. With a booming laugh, he glides back and forth on the icy lawn, happy to return to the simple joys of childhood.

His mother no longer stands at the window, but his older brother takes her place. It is unknown if he sees what their mother saw all those years ago, but before he goes outside he mutters a single word: “Idiot”. (c)

Haunting Monsters of the Night (Written 2007)

It happens almost every single night,

They creep out of the darkness of our mind,

Dangerous with their hate so blind.

Leaning against the wind, fangs ready to bite,

The bravest man cannot bear the sight

Of these monsters and demons combined.

Never walk dark streets without looking behind,

Seeing us writhe in pain brings much delight

So every dark night, they feed on you and I,

But what will in turn ever feed on them?

I highly doubt anything ever will,

Since they are the ones we cannot condemn,

Living as a part of us until we die.

Always they haunt our minds in nights quite still.

How I Fell (Written 2/2/09)

The moment I saw you, I fell. I fell so hard and so fast, and I knew it. It did not matter to me because I trusted you. I trusted you to catch me as I fell. But you didn't, so I crashed. How that crash hurt me. Hitting my head on those jagged rocks was the worst thing I ever felt. But as I awoke from the coma, my head was clear. Never again will I fall, unless I know he will catch me.

The Hunchback's Dream (Written 1/28/09)

High up and far away from this world, the young hunchback watches everything from his tower. No one sees him; no one knows he is there. He is separate from everyone, but immersed in their lives. The Hunchback is there as the maid washes the family's clothes, the butcher throws away his scraps, the girl picks flowers in the meadow, and the father leave his family.

He shares their sadness and offers them consolation, even if they do not know he is there. The Hunchback then delights in their joys, laughing along, and clapping his large hands. It's as if the whole world is putting on a show, just for him. But the Hunchback does not want to be an observer of this spectacle of life. He wants to be a part of it; right in the middle of the story. Why watch everything when you can make it your own.

The little Hunchback wants to wave his hands at his friends and pass out flowers to the baker's daughter, who he thinks is the prettiest girl in the world. He wants her to be his first kiss, and then eventually find true love. In the end, he wants what we all want, but we can get it.

He is condemned to forever observe other's joys. He can only look, never touch or feel. It is a sad existence, and he knows it. If only our Hunchback could come down down from his tower. But he is too scared to place himself up for our judgement. And we are fearful to welcome his disfigured self into our world. So we all keep our places in this life. Perhaps one day the Hunchback will come down from his tower and walk our streets. Perhaps one day someone will go up to his tower and see his world.

(c)

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