Concrete Chaos

I’m tired of being stuck here

Trapped inside this concrete chaos,

This mad world made in a factory,

Manufactured on an assembly line.

Why is this all plastic?

Sometimes I fear that my own heartbeat

May be nothing more than

An artificial dream.

Someday I’m going to wake up

To a Christmas morning

Filled with Styrofoam snow

And an LED fire.

All the precious, REAL things

That I hold so dear

Will one day soon

Cease to exist.

There is little left in this world

That remains undestroyed

By the crushing, deadly grip

Of our toxic corporate world.

What will become of the forests

That I grew up charging around,

Playing games until the

Break of twilight?

We’re trapped inside a world

Where nothing real means anything.

And unless we change this,

It’s only going to get worse.

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Cheating

I’ve put on a second pair of glasses

Because my dear, I don’t understand

How in our twisted world

Good and evil walk hand in hand

She could read stained words

And teach a lesson she did not believe

Followed by a prayer, a thanks

For blessings she doesn’t truly think she’s received.

I still don’t understand

How bad people are good ones too,

And when someone says they love you

You can never be sure it’s true.

They say live for the moment

Others say choices are all that count

But in an empty room full of whispers

Her lies fill me up with doubt.

I still don’t understand

How you can love someone to their face,

And spend hours, days,

With another lover in their place.

They say we’re too young

To even know what love really is,

But then, why do they scream at us,

When I know love is quieter than this?

I still don’t understand

Why I’m asking all the questions they’re afraid to,

As if thoughts of pain and sadness

Could paint them out in blue.

They say trying isn’t good enough,

You either do it or you don’t.

I say I can’t take anymore tyranny,

That’s why I wrote you this little note.

I’m fed up with lies and fake people,

I’m done dealing with all their doors

Slammed in my face,

I won’t stand for it anymore!

It’s time to right the wrongs,

To teach the cheaters all a lesson.

I guess I should start with the one upstairs,

Who the other man’s probably finished undressing.

I still don’t understand

Why my aunt thinks it’s okay

To screw around with other men

When her boyfriend’s faithful to this day.

I guess I got my answer,

Why good and evil walk hand in hand.

People cannot be trusted;

Their emotions are as permanent as drawings in the sand.

The Girl

She was a young girl

Without a care in the world

She loved to sing and dance

And she wanted to be happy

 

She was six when he started

To torment her with his words

She was seven when he started

To torment her with his fists.

 

She was nine when

The best person she’d ever known

Shattered the world with a bang of a gun

The silence so deafening in her wake

 

She was ten when she tried to save her sister

From the pain that she endured

While her innocence was taken

By one so close to home

 

When she stopped eating so much

And eventually didn’t eat at all

When she held a knife to her arm

And found the red

 

When she knew that words hurt

And the knife could take that away

When she learned that she was alone

She didn’t matter anyway

 

She was eleven when she

Questioned her own sexuality

Sleeping with her best girl friend

Trying to find herself.

 

She was twelve when she first

Took a pull from a bottle of whisky

Started dating the boy that hit her too

A fucked up world, indeed.

 

She was thirteen when she was a mom of four

Up three times a night,

Teaching to read, cooking, cleaning,

Loving like a mother would.

 

She was fourteen when she tried to die

Three times, twice to sleep forever

And once to stain

The tub in red

 

When she met someone

Who called her beautiful

And seemed to really mean it

When she fell in love

 

She was fifteen when she stopped self harm

And let that boy into her life

When she finally accepted who she was

And started to eat again

 

She is now a young woman

Who misses her childhood

But would take it all again

To make sure no one ever would

 

And she still battles that eating disorder

All the days of her life

Every time she eats a meal

She celebrates inside

 

She still fights the urge to cut

It’s strong, to this day.

But still she loves the boy

Who saved her from her fate.

Rant on Current Issues

276 girls were abducted from Nigeria in the middle of the night from the Chibok School by Boko Harem raiders. The country couldn’t raise enough armed forces to respond with action as these girls were carried away in the middle of the night.

I honestly feel bad for Nigeria. Their government is corrupted, their lives are awful, their country is in turmoil, and now this? I can’t believe the horrors that some people have to go through. This is why I hate the news, it totally depresses me. Things in the world are getting worse again and that’s not okay. Seriously, who knows what’s happening to those girls? They could be killed, or worse. There are worse things that being murdered in this world and for all we know those 276 girls could be being subjected to that right now. It’s really unfair of us all to sit back and watch these things happen. Just the fact that their own country couldn’t raise enough forces to respond to some of these people’s own daughters being taken away is ridiculous and it shows the poor state the world is in. We need less hate, less problems, and more love. People wouldn’t be so screwed up if their parents weren’t and didn’t treat them like crap. Then again, there’s always going to be people who are screwed up just because they are. But then there’s people like me. Knowing me, you would never guess that I have been through some of the things I have. I may be sassy and sarcastic and a little cynical but for the most part I am okay. We need to raise people to be respectful again. It both disgusts and saddens me to see so many people at our school that I can look at and think, “They are never going to be anything more than that.” It makes me sad for them, it makes me angry, and it hurts to see good lives wasted on bad things. People are wrong about the world People are wrong about life. There’s nothing we can do but to start doing things right again. That’s the only way to solve this whole mess called Earth.

My Guardian Angel

Colors rage and storms swirl

My life in bitter turmoil

But you are the eye of the storm

The calm that keeps me sane

 

Tiptoeing away from the dark

I await the dawn of your soul

Everything you’ve been, everything

You ever will be, has found my love

 

And when the quiet whispers

Call out my name in desperation

You will not let me be alone with myself

Because you know that all I need

Is you.

 

A Word of Encouragement for a Trying Time of Year

So maybe you failed a test or did badly on an assignment. Maybe Chemistry isn’t your strong spot, maybe you’re not too great at Trig. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed! So long as you try and try, you’ve never failed. So long as you give it all you’ve got until there’s nothing left to give, then you’ve won. You’ve won life. Life isn’t about the test; I hate teachers who think the world revolves around the test. The world is founded by people that didn’t bother thinking towards the test; they thought outside the box. They saw the problems in the world and instead of ignoring it like everyone else, they made it better. So no, you haven’t failed. You’re just more than what you ever thought you were.

The Kind of Love I have for Him

I just love him so much. I love him the kind of love where I want to ask him what color drapes to put in the living room and how many eggs he wants for breakfast and check three times if he made reservations for dinner and call him on his lunch break to see how his day’s going and tell him about mine. I want our kids to run to him when he gets home from work screaming, “Daddy!” I want to watch stupid movies that only he likes with him just to make him happy and force him to watch mine. I want to travel the world with him. I want to take him to see the ocean at night, when it’s the most beautiful. I want him to grab me when I wake up screaming in the middle of the night to tell me that the demons are far away, the monsters are gone now, and as he holds me I relax back into reality. I want him to know the story of my life and be the story of my life. I want him to see me on our wedding day and think that he is making the right decision, spending the rest of his life with me. I love him so much that I want to die first so that I don’t have to ever live without him. I want to replay his voice over and over in my head. I want to miss him and yet know that when I come back everything is going to be the same as when we last parted. I want to fight with him (because that’s just life) and then go get ice cream at three in the morning to make up. I want to stay up all night with him, just talking about life. I want to teach him how to dance, and I want him to be happy, no matter what I value his happiness. I want to struggle through the hard parts of life at his side, I want to kiss him in the rain, and I want to wake up in sixty years and look at him and say that is the man that has made my life what it is. I want to fall asleep to the sound of him breathing, I want to listen to all his stupid dumb lectures on science, I want to bring him home to meet my parents and they will love him so much. I want him to be the first person I go to when something wonderful happens, I want to be excited for good things in his life and for him to be excited for good things in my life because it’s OUR life now. I want to talk to him about every major decision I make and write little sticky notes to remind him to do the things I’ve asked him to do six times and stick them on his forehead when he’s sleeping. I want to throw a pillow at him because we’ve been married for six years and he still thinks he loves me more. I want to watch him grow old and grow old by his side. I want to play cruel April fool’s jokes on him and take him furniture shopping and cook him food and make pancakes on Saturday mornings and I want to go through the ups and downs of life. I want him to have and to hold from that day forward, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and health, until the day I die. To love and honor him with all the days of my life, to always tell him the truth, to be faithful to him and to care about everything in his life. I want to tell him everything. I want to have weird little traditions, like poking the other one until they wake up or whatever. I want to have him be my New Year’s kiss, my valentine EVERY year, my superhero, my one and only. I’m beginning to believe this is true love. And if it’s not I don’t want to find it with anyone but him.

A Sneak Peek at my New Book, Worthless.

I thought I would share with you today, a bit of my new book, Worthless. For more information on the background, check out my post here: https://welcometohellwritings.wordpress.com/2014/05/02/the-idea-behind-my-new-book-worthless/

August 4, 2013

 

I am writing to you because things are getting worse. They’ve never been good, not really, but I am afraid they’re getting even worse. I am starting seventh grade in two weeks and I don’t know why, but I am more afraid to start Jr. High than I am to go home to my stepdad, a man who seems to be finding every reason to punish me. I live in a small town with my mom and stepdad, about half an hour away from my dad and stepmom. I’ve been wanting to leave my mom’s house for years, but I was too scared. Now I just don’t know how to get out. It feels like have trapped myself inside my own hell.

My stepdad has been verbally abusing me since I was six and physically since I was seven. My mom is okay, but she is a coward. She can never say the things that need to be said, or stand up for what’s right. I have three younger siblings, two sisters and a brother. Their names are Maria, age ten, Elizabeth, age six, and Robin, who is nineteen months old. My name is Anna and I don’t know what to do. Maria hates me with all that she is and Elizabeth needs me with all that she is. Robin only talks to me, he won’t talk to Mom or Daniel-my stepdad-or my sisters. But I’m not sure how I can keep doing this… He is never going to let me go, let me live my life, let me be happy. I am so scared to live, and so scared to die. What can I do?

 

 

August 7, 2013

 

School is coming again and so is a new baby… Due in April. We just found out today, and I can tell you, Daniel isn’t so happy about it. I don’t know how I feel about that. When Robin was born, I became Mom. I cooked, cleaned, fed the baby, dressed him, changed him, got up with him three times a night even though I had school, and rocked him for hours until he fell back asleep. I cared for him when he was sick and I’ve been present at every single one of his doctor’s appointments because my mom never would’ve remembered on her own. I was there for his first steps, the first time he rolled over, his first solid food… I am Elizabeth and Robin’s mother. I taught Maria how to read and I’m working on it with Elizabeth now. Maria and I are close in age, but she hates me because I’ve had to fill the place of our mom. I am afraid that when the new baby comes, I won’t know how to be anything but a mother. I want to still have time for… I guess I don’t have a life here yet. We just moved.

I know one person, the girl across the street, Lauren. We aren’t really friends, but she seems nice enough. I’ve never known my neighbors and I’m afraid to now. I don’t want to somehow make them hate me. I’ve only had a few close friends ever. The rest of everyone I knew bullied me. I don’t know why, I never really talked to them, and I can’t find what separated me from the rest. I was just like them. But for some reason I was subject to their hate.

I am just trying to belong. Every day I feel more and more like I’m slipping from reality. I am numb to emotion, and I just want to matter… Please help. I don’t want to be nothing anymore.

 

 

August 11, 2013

 

Why is he so insistent that I am lying even when I’m not? He always has to be right, and I don’t know what to do. When I tell the truth and he doesn’t like it, I’m lying. “Don’t hurt me” doesn’t apply to real life situations, it doesn’t work. If someone is angry enough to hurt you, pleading for mercy won’t stop them. Only in our dreams do demons run screaming.

The demon inside David was fiery today, and was looking for a reason to be angry. I made the mistake of telling the truth.

I was watching Robin like I always do, because David disappears in the middle of the day for hours at a time with no warning, and not telling us when he’ll get back. The TV was on and Robin and I were watching cars. He was laughing and sitting on my lap, but eventually he got bored and got off my lap to go play. That was when David walked downstairs into the room. Seeing me with the TV on and Robin on the ground playing, not watching the television with me, he automatically assumed that I was watching the television and not Robin.

He said to me, “Why aren’t you watching Robin? What do you think you’re doing?” I tried to tell him that Robin had just climbed down off my lap, but of course he didn’t believe me. He slapped me.

“Quit lying, bitch.” I didn’t cry, tears didn’t even well up below my eyes. Crying is the second worst thing you can do in this world. It is weak and selfish and shows fear. The worst is to defend yourself, but apparently I haven’t learned that, at least not when confronted.

“I’m not lying, Robin just got off my lap!” My voice broke on “off” but I tried to keep it steady. I looked right into his cold blue eyes and I found the demon there.

David saw my meeting his eyes as a sign of defiance, and all of a sudden, it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. In one quick motion, he grabbed me by the throat with one hand, lifted me to eye level and slammed me against the wall. Robin began to cry and David, still pinning me to the wall, turned around to scream at him to shut up. Turning back to me, my head reeling from impact with the wall and the small amount of oxygen reaching my lungs, he narrowed his eyes and growled at me again.

“Don’t you ever lie to me again. Do you understand?” I nodded weakly and suddenly I was falling to the checkered black and white tile floor. My head made a sound as it hit the ground, followed by my body, a disgusting, awful sound. I couldn’t move. My heart was pounding and everything hurt, but I didn’t have time to be in pain before a boot hit me in the ribcage.

“Get up! Now!” David was still raging. As I tried to stand, he kicked me again. “That’s for trying to step out of that hole you belong in.”

Finally getting to a standing position, Robin came to me, still crying. I picked him up, and even though my head was pounding, I pulled him close to my chest. David turned around, his demon still blazing, and yelled,

“Put him down! He is my son, he is only your half-brother; he will never be your brother. Don’t even touch Elizabeth or Robin. I don’t want you hugging them, and if I had my way, I wouldn’t even have you around. I don’t want them to grow up a worthless whore like you.” He practically yanked Robin from my hands. Robin, of course, started to cry right away. David took his one leg, held him upside down in the air and started spanking him to try and shut him up. He’s being raised not to cry, right from the beginning…

I stepped up to David, trying to get him to stop hitting my baby brother. I took Robin from his arms and turns around, shielding him with my body. David was kicking me and hitting me. I fell to the floor, covering Robin with my arms and legs and torso, curling into the corner between the couch and the wall, trying with all my might to cover Robin.

David tried to pull me off, but I fought and fought to protect my brother. I was bloody and aching and bruised, but my one and only thought was to save Robin.

I don’t know why, but David suddenly just left. I collapsed onto the floor, shaking. Robin was crying, so I calmed him down and put him in bed for a nap. Walking upstairs carrying him and then downstairs with the cleaning supplies to mop up my own blood was so much more painful than I can describe. I’ve cleaned up my bloody nose and head and sides, but I don’t know how I’m doing. It’s hard to tell when your whole body is screaming. I just want to go to sleep… This constant throbbing of my heart should maybe just stop…

I think I hear Robin upstairs. It’s time for me to start dinner anyway.

 

The Difference I Have Found in Myself

Here’s the thing about my life. There is no playlist, no set of boxes, no album of photographs, no amount of words that could ever help you to understand my life. Because here’s the difference that I’ve found in myself: my life is inside me and ONLY inside me. There is nothing in this world that can tell you about my life. That’s what makes me different. Pictures don’t have stories, and neither do the songs. They hold meaning, sure, but all the photographs are incorrect displays of who I was at the time. Songs are based on emotion and have nothing to do with me. Words are empty and boxes full of memory are just ghosts from another life I’ve lived inside this one. I hold all my life within me, and I don’t know how to get it out of me. I want someone to understand it, I want someone to know this story… But it’s so much MORE than anyone could ever know, and understand, or even begin to fathom.