Writing has always compelled me, it's just been something that I've always done... But why? Why do I write? That's something I have to dig deep to find, something that doesn't have just one answer.
Is it because I need a creative outlet? That's what I say a lot, what a lot of writers say a lot. That isn't it. I dance, dance is a creative outlet and yet I still need to write. Not to mention that drawing, painting, music, all those other things have no appeal to me. Writing isn't a creative outlet, not in whole.
Is it a vent? A way to get rid of all the emotions I keep locked up, that have no other way to come out? In part, maybe it is. Writing is calming, centering. Writing makes life fall away and I only live in my book world. But that's not it either, because it's the same as the creative...
I have five book covers made, and I want to see which one is best... I created a survey in the link below containing all five. Sadly, you can't write in your own option, but it would mean a lot to me if you'd go take the survey to let me know which one is best!
Thank you so much! If you have any thoughts, feel free to leave them in the comments or reviews!
You never know what you have until it's gone,
Never know what's right until something's wrong,
Can't know how to truly feel
Until something is actually real.
No one cares til it's too late,
Life plays roulette to decide a fate,
One wrong move and your lost,
No coming back, at any cost...
Life is hard, times are tough,
T'was years ago you'd had enough,
But hold on, til the day's done,
It's only at the end that the battle's won.
You know what's right, 'cause you've been wrong,
You know what you have, when something's gone,
You aren't fake and playing a false role,
Though your heart is bruised, your ethics are whole.
I ran outside, into the cold, tears freezing against my cheeks and lungs burning with the mixed exertion of running and crying. Running until I got to a hidden place, pretending voices were calling me back. Noticing my absence. Silence was all that met my ears, as if the cold had frozen all noise to halt. I took off my jacket, throwing it down by my side as the cold winds began to bite at my arms. The cold stung, but the feeling mirrored the emotions I felt. In a way, I could visualize freezing into nothingness... Gradually going numb until all that remained was a void... I almost did.
Many people feel that way, that sense that they're impossibly unlovable, and therefore unmissable. That going into numb oblivion would be nice. That's depression, and it's a real problem. Depression isn't attention seeking, or an unfortunate chemical disorder in your brain, it's as dangerous as any of the...
Enclosed in our own cages,
Alone in flesh and blood,
As endless fire rages,
We're swept away in the flood.
Always in sight of others,
Yet no glimpse inside their prison,
All smiles, though we're smothered
By the waters that have risen.
Vibrations through the air,
Placing thoughts inside our heads,
As though ideas reach our hidden lair,
We all make our own beds.
What makes us survive gives us hope,
Hope grounded in nothing,
We can't reach, though we grope,
And we call these fake ties loving.
Forever alone, deluding ourselves,
That smeared shapes and air patterns are connections,
Faring alone in our own private Hells,
We'll never see others through our own reflections.
As I look down at her small, emanciated body, and I can't help but let hot tears leak out. This is just like last time, and the time before that. This isn't normal, is it? This doesn't happen to everyone, does it? She starts to move, but it's not really her. It's another seizure. She doesn't make a sound and I'm greatful for that, but it's too much and I have to leave. I have to get out and away from this, this hopeless, painful mess.
Once outside the door, my mind runs wild. Six years ago, a small furry body nestled in my lap, also too small, to skinny, too many seizures. The kitten, my kitten, who I hoped would die soon. That sounds so cruel, and I wince at the thought, but it's true. It's inevitable that he'd die, and I only wanted it to be soon. I remember, I took a break for five minutes...
"Jenna, can you come over tonight?" My best friend, Lisa, asked over the phone, excitement in her voice.
I sighed, I didn't want to admit to her why I couldn't come. "I can't, I'm uh grounded..." I lied. I wish so bad I was grounded!
"Oh. Ok." Lisa sounded disappointed. I felt bad making her this disappointed yet again, and for lying. I guess compared to the other stuff I had to feel bad about I shouldn't feel that bad about this, but I did.
"Sorry, maybe next week?" Not likely, but I'd try.
"Yeah, ok. Stop getting in trouble Jen!" She chastised me. I wished it were that easy!
I laughed. "I'll try, I gotta go now I'll talk to you later, bye." I hung up.
What I didn't tell her was that I had to go because he was here... The man who had been forcing me to do...
Dancing under the midnight moon,
Tears streaming from my eyes,
Dancing in hopes that you'll come soon,
Dancing to my own surprise.
Gliding across the grasses,
To nature's midnight song,
With every second that passes,
Still hoping you'll come along.
There in the gentle moonlight,
Standing under the trees,
I see you, hiding from sight,
Watching in slight unease.
Dancing closer and closer,
Come on, pick up your feet,
Tears drying as we get closer,
So happy that we, once again, meet.
First just spinning in wonder,
Staring at each other, in the dim light,
Then twirling faster and faster,
You're all I wanted tonight.
Dancing, dancing, all night long,
Wrapped up in each other's arms,
Dancing to the midnight song,
Humming quietly along.
Then the the stars start dimming,
The moon's about to set,
My eyes have starting brimming
A night I won't forget.
You fade away with the moon,
Each second brings you away,
I hope to see...