Karen Umeora

United States of America

When I write, I get sucked into another blissful world.
I've loved to write my whole life, and I'm glad that I've found a community with a bunch of people like me.

Message from Writer

Feel free to come to me if you ever need advice on your writing!

Published Work

Lyrical Stratum

Diligence

MORNING
It’s still dark when I wake up. Or rather when my eyes open. To ‘wake up,’ one must actually stand up with a goal as to going about their day. That’s not me right now. Maybe around 6am, it will be me.

MORNING BUS
The morning-bus is this big yellow thing that comes around parading up and down streets, picking up students whose parents didn’t have the time to spare to drop them off at school. I ride the Pig Bus. It is quite a weird name and gets crowded a lot. At least it gets me to school early.

SCHOOL
Most schools around the Jonesboro area start at 8am. Not my school, it decided to be ‘different’ and start at 7.45am, which, if you think about it, is not a big difference. But students at my school are indignant. Why do we have a longer school day than other schools.

AFTERNOON BUS
The afternoon-bus is this small pink ...

Now to Then

WEIGHTED

I knew this would happen. I knew! I knew! Yet I never did anything. I just sat there, stuffing my mouth with chocolate, Oreos, goldfish, all the good stuff. I knew! Oh, I knew! But did I really know? I never really thought I would get to this point. The point where my knees started a suicide mission, and my breath sacrificing nothing but shallow gasps. The point where I could barely even walk! 

“Mirabelle!” a voice rang coming closer and closer, “It’s time for your weekly check-in.” It was Katie. Oh perfect, skinny Katie. I hated her. She always thought she was so much better than me. Once upon a time, I was like her. Once upon a time, we were friends. Well, Katie still calls us friends, but I know we really aren’t. How could we be when I could barely muster enough energy to send a text message?

“Mira!” Katie was now in front of me...

Word Collage

From the Person in the Mirror

First, you will be unmade, and so it was.
We were two broken, incomplete people.
But we were one.
Incapable of loving ourselves.
But thirsty for love.

(1) A Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir
(2) Let the Sky Fall by Shannon Messenger
(3) We were one: Shoulder to Shoulder by Patrick K. O’Donnell
(4) Quotes: Osho
(5) Vault of Dreamers Trilogy by Caragh O’ Brien.

Sage Words

Behind the Dark

“What difference does it make if the thing you scared of is real or not?”

Monsters that steal souls aren’t real. Neither are the ones that suck your blood. All in all, monsters aren’t real. However, that doesn’t stop me from cowering from fear under my covers in the dark of the night. I’m not scared of the dark. I’m scared of what’s in it. No matter what anyone says, I know beneath that thick sheet of night are bright eyes staring right at me. People say that my fears are irrational. People say that my fears are childish. People say there’s no chance of anything like I imagine happening. And I’ll admit, they’re right. The possibilities of an actual monster stealing my soul while I sleep are slim if not nonexistent. However, the fear I feel is real. Heart-pounding, gut-wrenching, metallic fear.

One-Liner

Hunger

We have the whole world on our plates, yet we crave the entire universe.

Universal Knowledge

Hold on a Second

"I'll do it later; after all, I still have a bunch of time left."

Genre Bender

A Future for the World

Should you take a trip to Mars this summer?

Should Electricity Ration Times Increase?

Should you get a Personalized Robot?
A robot that looks just like a normal human being? Moves like a normal human being? That might seem creepy, but it isn’t. The NERO P.R can do everything you can plus more. Dirty Dishes? Done. Messy room? Done. Dusty floors? Done. And way more. Everyone needs a P.R.

Are Turtles Worth Saving?

Do you need an air mask?

On Courage

The Prison without Boundaries

I’m trapped.
But there are no bars, no walls
 
I’m in a prison of my own making
But there is no way out, no way in
 
As time passes, I feel like a tree
Dazzled by the beautiful green leaves of a mistletoe
 
Days go by and I realize the mistletoe was nothing
Nothing but a trick to keep me in this wretched prison
 
The mistletoe was coated with promises
Promises of being attractive
Promises of being “cool”
Promises of fitting in
 
But I don’t want to fit in anymore
I want to…
I want to…
I want to be myself!
 
And just like that, the walls shatter
The leaves shrivel
I’m free
 
Despite the stares
Despite the whispers
Despite the mocking voices that plague my head
I am happy
I am free
 

Song Writing Competition 2019

That Kid

[Verse 1:]
I don't know why it's raining outside
I don't know why I feel this way
I don't why I’m so cliche
I… don't...know why

[Refrain:]
But I do know

[Chorus:]
That kid
That kid
Is the reason why
I see her everyday
That kid
That kid
In the mirror when I look at myself
That kid
That kid
Is the end of me/enemy
Is the start of me
That kid 
That kid
I don’t know her
But I know her so well

[Bridge:]
Is this jail made of glass
Or is it made of my hatred
The putrid smell grows
Its like its inside of me
I’m trapped
No way out

[Shortened Refrain:]
But

[Chorus:]
That kid
That kid
Is the reason why
I see her everyday
That kid
That kid
In the mirror when I look at myself
That kid
That kid
Is the enemy
Is the start me
That kid 
That kid
I don’t know her ...

On Courage

The Prison without Boundaries

I’m trapped.
But there are no bars, no walls
 
I’m in a prison of my own doing
But there is no way out, no way in
 
As time passes, I feel like a tree
Dazzled by the beautiful green leaves of a mistletoe
 
Days go by and I realize the mistletoe was nothing
Nothing but a trick to keep me in this wretched prison
 
The mistletoe was coated with promises
Promises of being attractive
Promises of being “cool”
Promises of fitting in
 
But I don’t want to fit in anymore
I want to…
I want to…
I want to be myself!
 
And just like that, the walls shatter
I’m free
 
Despite the stares
Despite the whispers
Despite the mocking voices that plague my head
I am happy
I am free
 

The Gift

It is not just a mask
But a gift given to us at birth
We accept it whether we want it or not
It stabs and pricks into our skin
Slowly, the skin that lays beneath the mask becomes the mask itself
Some people’s mask covers and shades perfectly
While other's are cracked up and down
I, too, have this mask
However, I cannot  say whether it works or it doesn’t
Because then, for sure,  it would be cracked
And for my mask to be cracked,
It is a punishment worst than death
Because without it,
I would be a glass dove
Sitting dangerously at the edge of a table
Long forgotten and out of place
Because this mask of mine has been with me for ages
And ages...
That I have begun to forget who I am,
Or who I was, without it
Then I laugh
How could this mask mean so much
Is it really even a gift? ...

I TRY!

I promise I try

I try my best to keep my cool
I try my best to keep a smile
I try my best to just not care

Not to care about the mocking undertone in Lily's voice
Not to care about the words Milly says behind my back
Not to care about how Jill takes my hopes and dreams and crushes them in her hands

But no matter how much I try
My screams come out
But they just... laugh

No matter how much I scream
No one listens
Their mocking voices ring in my ears

And, oh, how I felt

The embarrassment
The pain
The doubt


When they took something I would die for
And turned it into nothing but a joke

So, I stop screaming

Even though, I’ve stopped screaming outside
Inside, my mind is wreaking havoc

I bite my lip and smile
Because, after all,
My emotions don't matter
Or so I thought

I TRY!

I promise I try

I try my best to keep my cool
I try my best to keep a smile
I try my best to just not care

But no matter how much I try
I still scream
But they just... laugh

No matter how much I scream
No one listens
Their mocking voices ring in my ears

And, oh, how embarrassing it feels
When something very important to you
Is nothing but a joke to others

So, I stop screaming

Even though, I’ve stopped screaming outside
Inside, my mind is wreaking havoc

I bite my lip and smile
Because, after all,
My emotions don't matter
Or so I thought

The Gift

It is not just a mask
But a gift given to us at birth
We accept it whether we want it or not
It stabs and pricks into our skin
Slowly, the skin that lays beneath the mask becomes the mask itself
Some people’s mask covers and shades perfectly
While other's are cracked up and down
I, too, have this mask
However, I cannot  say whether it works or it doesn’t
Because then, for sure,  it would be cracked
And for my mask to be cracked,
It is a punishment worst than death
Because without it,
I would be weak
I would be fragile
I would be lost
Because this mask of mine has been with me for ages
And ages...
That I have begun to forget who I am,
Or who I was, without it
Then I laugh
How could this mask mean so much
Is it really even a gift?
What is it then?
A curse?

Scene 1, Take 1 Million

Relax...
Breathe...
Lie…..
It’s a trap!

"It'll be okay. Let's start over again"

Relax...
Breathe…..
L- No!

Her arms sway at her sides
Her head feels unusually light
Her toes gently caress the hardwood
Her body moves in a familiar pattern

She dances
She soars
She leaps
She's amazing

Hands meet their pair
People rise from their seats
People chant her name

Her name…
What was her name?
Maybe Miah?
No.
Maybe Maria?
No.
Lia?
For sure.

Lia smiles
Just for the show
Just for the lie
Just for...
Just for what?

Strong arms pick her up and off the stage
After all, her moment is over
After all, she is dispensable
After all, no one cares about her after the curtains close
After all, she doesn't deserve the very oxygen she breathes

At least, that's what they tell her

Landscapes zoom pass her
Or did she zoom pass them
She couldn’t be sure
That's how life is
You can’t...

I TRY!

I promise I try

I try my best to keep my cool
I try my best to keep a smile
I try my best to just not care

But no matter how much I try
I still scream
But they just... laugh

No matter how much I scream
No one listens
Their mocking voices ring in my ears

And, oh, how embarrassing it feels
When something very important to you
Is nothing but a joke to others

So, I stop screaming

Even though, I’ve stopped screaming outside
Inside, my mind is wreaking havoc

I bite my lip and smile
Because, after all,
My emotions don't matter

The Gift

It is not just a mask
But a gift given to us at birth
We accept it whether we want it or not
It stabs and pricks into our skin
Slowly, it becomes a part of us
Some people’s mask covers and shades perfectly
While others are cracked up and down
I, too, have this mask
However, I cannot  say whether it works or it doesn’t
Because then, for sure,  it would be cracked
Cracked so much that it is no longer even a mask
If it is not a mask, however...
What is it?
A curse?

Open Prompt

You are a Hero

I usually thought heroes were rare.  Of all the things I’ve heard in my few years of life, they always told of heroes who had big muscles or superpowers that barely amounted to a dream for a normal person - but I've considered that maybe, I wasn’t right. I've seen teenagers be heroes showing varieties of perseverance that would rival any fictional character’s. I've considered men assisting strangers in the avenue on every and any opportunity to be heroes as well. I've seen people of all religions and ethnicities pouring their time into charity. You may suppose they don't measure up to Superman, I disagree. Leading a trustworthy and respectable existence, besides the adulation of a crowd, still makes you a hero. Working long hours to put meals on the table for your family is heroic... and from what I've seen there's a hero in nearly each and every one of us.
 

Hope

Hope is like a bright star in a hopelessly dark galaxy. Through light years of distance, the brightness fills us to the brim.Hope makes us smile on the inside as well as on the outside. Hope is not just an emotion, it is a promise saying that smiling and laughter are just around the corner.

The Words to an Escape

Words.

They’re everywhere.

On posters.
On fliers.
In phones.

In minds.

They want to escape.
They want to fly.
They want to soar.
They want to be free.
They want to dance.

But they can’t.

They can’t do it themselves.
So she helps them.
Sort of…

Her fingers touch each key.
Touch each word to be.
Then they lift off.
They fly.
They soar.
They form a story.
They form a new world.
They form an escape.