Be-Back-Soon

i've never looked a monster in the face all the monsters that i know are invisible lurking in the woods of my great sweeping body

i've never looked a monster in the face all the monsters that i know are invisible lurking in the woods of my great sweeping body

We sat in the dark classroom, the light that struggled to creep in through the thick blinds tossing ribbons across his face. "Sr?" I asked, looking up at the large color coded Periodic Table of Elements hanging on the wall. He thought for a moment, his blue eyes boring into the opposite wall. "Strontium, he replied, waiting for me to tell him if he was right or wrong. "Yeah," I said. "How about Fe?" "Iron," he responded instantaneously. I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Good. How about..." I paused for a moment, thinking of a challenging one, "W." "Come on Reese," he groaned, turning his head around. "No peeking!" I cried, giggling.

Carrie sighed moving her bare feet in circles through the clear, cold water. That morning had unfolded with disastrous events. Ma and Pa ignored her, all for the sake of James, Albert, Grace and Cassandra. Especially Cassandra. Ever since James and Cassandra had come to live with the Ingalls, Carrie had gained a best friend, but this best friend took attention away from her. Carrie had never been the favorite. She was a late bloomer, compared to Mary and Laura. She wasn't particularly beautiful, smart, or spunky. So all the others got the attention. They just needed to ask for something and they would get it. Carrie heard some soft foo

1941, Maycomb County, Alabama As I walked into my snug house, I could hear the radio blaring in the living room. "Hey Jem," I said as I headed towards the kitchen, tossing my 18-year-old brother a quick glance. He was hunched by the radio, listening intently. He didn't respond. I sighed, but continued on my path to the kitchen. "Hey Cal," I said, sitting down on a stool. "Bit chilly, isn't it?" "Yes Scout, out of season for Maycomb, certainly," Calpurnia replied, dicing up herbs for the chicken. That winter, December to be exact, I was fourteen years old. I still preferred overalls instead of dresses, but Aunt Alexandra would have none

It's a Sunday, your favorite day of the week You sit in your rocking chair In the back room Your ear and mouth Pressed against your tiny cellphone You cry hysterically Screaming obscenities Into the phone At our father Quiet on the other end While we sit on the red couch in the living room Watching cartoons

Her red fingernails Resemble the spring roses With accusing thorns

There was once a girl Who painted the sky With brilliant reds And blues And oranges. She made the sun rise Amidst splendid mist Of all colors. She had the sun set At the appropriate time And helped the moon begin its course. She led clouds Across her canvas Large, puffy, and white. Until one day She fell from the sky Her palette tossed from her hand. She picked up a brush Shrugging to herself And created art of earth.