Ripped's Lit Dump

Subject: Ripped's Lit Dump Thu May 31, 2018 4:27 pm

I'll be throwing some of my works here for people to look at, critique and enjoy. Feel free to leave comments in between the things I throw up. Any input is more than welcome. I can take constructive criticism Wink

Works:

1. Campton Hills
2. Dartmouth (story idea/concept)
3. The Pit
4. Poetry Dump

Subject: Re: Ripped's Lit Dump Thu May 31, 2018 4:28 pm

1. Campton Hills

Explanation: So, this little bit started off a joke that wife and I kept building off of. Near where we live, there is a town that boasts quite a few residents, but a majority of the town is woods and very few houses alongside a small downtown area. At some point, we decided the number count is due to the fact that there are savage people who live out in the woods that are a part of the town's secret. They are given sacrifices in order to keep them under control. Therefore, the concept was born and I started playing with writing about it while I was commuting for work over the summer. WARNING: some content might seem to be too dark for younger readers. It is not too graphic here, but this is a thriller, so keep that in mind.
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“Are you ready?” A voice broke the silence of the night. The one it was directed towards jumped in fright at the words. Clearly, he was not ready. There was something about the stillness of the night that sent a chill down both of their spines. The older man could not blame his much younger counterpart for being out of sorts. It was always the worst the first time around. After a moment of no response, he spoke once more, “Jacobs, are you ready?”

This time the dark figure nodded slowly. It was evident in each movement that fright was taking over. Between the two of them, there was only the light that beamed from their cellphones, which was not much to fight back the pressing darkness. Jacobs stood shock still waiting for direction as if he would be struck for even the slightest twitch of a muscle. The grey-haired man managed a stiff nod as he turned towards the back of the truck bed. In the daylight, the truck was something to behold; it was a brand new, bright red. Of course, also the latest model. However, none of that seemed to matter now. His withered hands threw down the back gate, resulting in a much louder sound than expected. Once more, Jacobs jumped, causing the light in his hand to falter.

“Steady, boy! Do you want to mess this up before we even start?” His guide snapped irritably. Messing things up was not an option for them. The consequences would be dire for everyone if they failed.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this, Al…” Jacobs barely managed to stutter out, “This… this isn’t right.”

Before the younger one could protest anymore, Al’s hand was snapping across his right cheek. He stumbled back a couple of steps. A mixture of surprise and awe crossed over his features. The move was beyond unexpected. However, with one more stern look from Al, all emotion dropped from his face. The variety of emotions that twisted his lips fell away into a stone-cold stare. Instead of looking at the man who struck him, however, Jacob’s eyes were fixed on the truck bed. A burlap sack writhed wildly, but its quest for freedom was futile. There would be no escaping. It was then that the realness of the moment truly hit Jacobs. Everything was horrible and awful and cruel, but it needed to be done. His work here would help the rest of the town survive, to thrive. There was a slight quivering to the edge of his lips, but the expressionless face remained. It was as if Al recognized the change in mindset because he instantly set back to work.

With a brief sweep of his hand, Al called his partner over to help. The sack was heavy. It struggled with new purpose as they heaved it from the flatbed. Both had a difficult time keeping a tight hold on it, but between the two, their cargo never fell. Streams of curses flew from Al’s mouth. Each one struck the once sheltered Jacobs. Together, they shuffled towards the mouth of the forest. The trees arched over the constantly shaded wood, giving the impression it was an entrance. Everything else simply grew in dense clumps, sectioning off the danger within from the civilized world around. Once more, a shudder went down Jacob’s spine. Al would have been lying if he said he still didn’t feel it too. Despite the countless years he had held the unfavorable job, there was always the same deep down churn of emotion. A pit settled in his stomach as he stared at the gaping opening in the trees, the very same that had haunted his sleep for so many years.

“Get ready,” Al warned as his hands fumbled with a knot at the top of the sack, “we have to throw it soon.”

“Okay.” Jacobs replied simply. There was a lump in his throat at the word ‘it’. Their offering had been reduced to simply that- supplies. While a trembling began to wrack his limbs as they supported the weight of the still squirming bundle, he said nothing. His eyes fixed on a point of in the darkness and glazed over. At this point, he simply wished for it all to be done so he could go home to his family. At home, his wife was more than likely still struggling to get their newborn down to sleep. The toddler may or may not have been giving her trouble as well. While his heart longed to be at home helping them, logically there was no doubt this was the best way to serve them.

The rope dropped to the ground with a thud, snapping Jacobs from his thoughts immediately, “Go!”

They both drew back briefly to put more power behind the throw before launching it forwards. It hit the ground with a sickening thump, halfway devoured by the pure black of the nighttime forest. It was only thanks to the soft beam of light the radiated from his phone that Jacobs caught a glimpse of her. Fear-widened eyes stared up at him from the darkness. There were hints of accusation, but terror wracked the child’s eyes and frame. Her struggle was futile. Al grabbed his arm to pull him away, but the younger man couldn’t help look on as she was dragged away. The gag around her mouth fell away as something gripped the bottom of the sack that still held the child. And in an instant, she was swallowed by the forest. A piercing shriek rose for a brief second, but was just as quickly stolen away.

Every ounce of willpower was required to prevent Jacobs from turning and bolting to the truck in that instance. Somehow, he restrained it and instead felt his whole body turn to ice. A lump settled in his throat as he stared into the gaping nothingness that had swiftly taken the child. All he could think of was the face of his own daughter. ‘At least you are safe,’ was all he could bring himself to think, hating himself for the selfish idea. Every other thought was repressed to hold back what would have been a surge of incomparable emotion. When Al’s hand finally gipped his shoulder to pull him away, Jacobs flinched. Neither one said nothing as they walked stiffly back towards their ride. The night seemed so peaceful. But it’s true beauty was lost on the pair due to the horror they had just witnessed. Al, who had carried this burden since he had been Jacobs’ age, felt next to nothing other than the usual numbness. Anything else would have caused the ages of crushing guilt to set in.

Jacobs’ eyes stared down at the grass as he walked along slowly, allowing the older man to guide him. Hints of pity sparked up in Al’s eyes. He remembered that feeling from years ago. His voice crackled through the dead air, “It’ll pass. The feeling will pass. Just think of all the lives you’re saving.”

While it was a well-meaning sentiment, the words came off as gruff. Al had repeated them only a handful of times over the years. Finding decent new recruits was tough; the entire council had to agree. And then came the explanation and convincing. So many lives had been lost in that process alone. No matter what, the town secret needed to be kept guarded, even if it meant the loss of a few lives. Jacobs seemed smart enough not to join his predecessor in the town cemetery. Fear had always proven to be a successful tactic in getting the new people to take up the town burden. So many lived in a complete ignorant bliss, but others, the less fortunate, kept it that way. A grimace twisted the sides of the older man’s mouth as he half shoved Jacobs into the pristine, leather seat. The shock would wear off later once he was into the routine. Much like the veteran had, and others after him, this would just become a normal part of their lives. Al was in the driver’s seat within moments and throwing the car into ‘drive’. He did not want to waste time; his show was on soon.

“How do you do it?” Jacobs asked after some time of driving down the open road. The tone was flat, but desperate as if reaching for some sort of answer to the absurdity of it all.

“Just gotta get your priorities straight, kid. If we don’t take care of this, it all goes to desu. Do you want to see your family die because you were too much of a pansy to do your own damn duty?”

That shut him up for a while. The dark-haired man mulled over the unsatisfactory answer. Despite all the logic reasons the town had to pay their due in such an unethical way made sense, but it simply wasn’t right. Ever since they had first approached him and sat him before the town council, Jacobs’ head had been a never-ending torrent of competing thoughts. On one hand, Campton Hills was a beautiful and serene place to live. But, as every utopia does, there was a dark secret festering beneath the picture-perfect setting. This one just happened to include a cannibalistic civilization whose blood-lust was only satisfied by the sacrifices of the townspeople. It had sounded completely mad at first. The seriousness of the whole council had been unsettling. When Al showed up with a young child tied up in a sack, the pit in Jacobs’ stomach had become bottomless. And now, well, he had seen the proof of all their claims. This was real. He gulped at the memory, yet said no more.

Subject: Re: Ripped's Lit Dump Thu May 31, 2018 4:29 pm

2. Dartmouth

Explanation: The concept of Dartmouth centers around a highly skilled and trained assassin who works for the government. To most, his name means nothing, but to the world's leaders, he means everything. Often, he is hiding in the shadows of some of the most important events for the United State's leader. However, when the Director of the National Security Agency gets his hands on Dartmouth's file, everything changes.

"For the past few months, Jack “DartMouth” Willis has been the target of the media. After slaughtering an innocent man, DartMouth has become known as one of the most hated men in the United States. A nation now living in fear holds their breath as the killer continues to evade the police.

Amy Harrow is a novelist. Her first book, Killer Inside, has recently begun to gain popularity and climb the charts. While on a tour, promoting her work, the young Ms. Harrow’s life quickly becomes entangled with both sides of a criminal investigation simply because she happened to be in the wrong city at the wrong time.

When DartMouth and Harrow come face to face, both their lives and the lives of everyone around them will be changed… but will it be enough to save them from the danger that comes from all sides?"

This is all a work in progress for me (lately next to no progress) but has been a fun challenge to develop.
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Prologue:

The room was rather cold and what little light shone from the singular, hanging bulb was strained. The soft glow just barely illuminated the silver, metal table and the men that sat at each end of it. Both of their features were shaded underneath the pressing darkness. Neither moved as they processed through the conversation they’d been having. Wheels turned in the younger gentleman’s head, but he betrayed nothing as he waited for the other man to speak. For a few moments, it seemed like it would stay this way for a while as all present parties held their breath. Tension was palpable.

“Do we have an understanding?” The older man leaned forward. Wrinkles around his eyes and lips only hardened his steely expression. There was a matter-of-factness in his low tone. He knew what needed to be done and that there was no real question. What stayed up in the air was the response of the other figure across the table, but even there, he knew what that answer would be. Allowing the crooked lips to curve into the faintest of smiles, the man’s eyes bore into the other’s. His hands lay flat on his lap. They ever so slightly ruffled the fabric of the crisply pressed black slacks. Even if he was sure, even if he knew, he wanted to hear it.

“Yes, sir.”

There was no question there either, only an unwavering certainty. Perfect. The first man clasped his hands together and settled them onto the steel table that lay in between them. An outsider watching would have assumed this was an interrogation had they not know the specifics of this meeting.

Matching the twisted lips, his eyes betrayed the pleasure in hearing the answer. They had both waited so long for this moment, for different reasons, some still unknown to each other, but none the less tied into the same instance. As he spoke once more, the grey-haired officer held the same tenor, “Excellent. Seeing as how you have worked for us before, I’m sure you know the nature of all this? And, of course, how to… conduct yourself?”

A simple nod was all he received in return.

“Then there is no need for us to discuss the matter any further,” He leaned back, gaze never leaving the young man across the table, “and I suppose I don’t need to keep you any longer either. Someone will escort you out.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the chair was pushed away with a soft scraping sound and he stood. Straightening out the usually well-ironed suit, he could not help but smile to himself. Managing the most pleasant look he had pulled in a while, the man shook his operative’s hand firmly before turning away. It appeared that things would all be happening according to plan. In the grand scheme of things, this was only step one, but his employee did not need to know anything past his part in the subject. His job was to do what he was instructed and nothing more.

They exited out of separate doors, marking their separate ways. On the outside of his door stood a guard, standing in the normal stiffness that was required. With a nod and a ‘sir’, it seemed like their interaction would end there as it normally did. The man began to walk briskly down the long, and seemingly endless, grey hallway. But, he was stopped short.

“Sir?”

A slightly puzzled looked crossed his features, but he allowed it to relax as he turned back around, “Yes, O’Donnell?”

“D-does he know?”

Ah, yes, the ever-pressing question in everyone in the department’s mind. However, the head was much smarter than to give out all the information to their latest hire. While he was known for having a loyalty that could be surpassed by no other, there was no doubt in the man’s mind that any soldier would question the methods that were about to be used here, given their rather unconventional way. He considered an answer for a brief second, before finally responding, “He knows all he needs to know.” With a final nod, the man turned away, heading to the other things he had to attend to. This situation would all work itself out. He needn’t worry about the outcome. For now, all he had to worry about was what he wanted for lunch. Thoughts of assassination were for tomorrow.
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Chapter 1 [WIP]:

A low, slightly exasperated sigh left the woman as she fell back into the warm plush of the comforter. Every muscle screamed for some sort of rest. The past month had been filled with jumping on plane after plane, driving in various cars, and sleeping in a random assortment of hotel rooms. This was finally the last on the stop. They were practically home free here. If it weren’t for the last book signing tomorrow, there was no doubt Amy would have rushed back home to catch up on her other job. The boss might have been understanding enough to suspend her work and allow her to leave for a full thirty days, but she had not stopped thinking about all of her responsibilities. Were the accounts okay? Did all the clients walk away satisfied? She did not know for the time being.

Amelia Harrow was not known for her great relaxation techniques. In fact, the tenseness in every part of her body only served to prove how constantly on edge she was. Her square shoulders were more rigid instead of loose as she allowed herself a moment’s rest on the fluffy bedspread. Somewhere off to the right, the agent’s ever demanding tone could be heard constantly babbling into her cell phone. The amount she talked was almost unbelievable, even to someone as people oriented as Amy herself, but Julie always got the job done.

Amy’s round eyes opened just slightly as she propped herself up to look at her friend. Julie’s mouth moved a mile a minute. The other woman shot her a ‘one-moment’ look before darting out the room door, just barely managing not to slam it against the frame. So far, several companies had screwed up along their travels. If it weren’t for the Tawnee Publishing Agent, they would have fallen behind within the first few days. It was only reasonable to assume there was another case of something similar happening now. That, or she was just trying to pre-order dinner. A half-smile peeled back her lips at the thought. No matter what Julie did, it always had to have a certain intensity about it, much like herself.

As she straightened up, her eyes scanned the room, comparing the subtle differences to those of the last few rooms. All the starch white bedding was the same as it had been everywhere else. A decent sized television screen stood out against the plain, tan walls. At the far end of the room, furthest from the doorway was a basic kitchen set-up that stood across from a sizeable bathroom. This wasn’t at all, unlike places they had stayed before. Each had been decent. All made her miss the comforts of home.

“Almost done…” A long, held breath escaped slowly into the stale air. The quiet moment was unusual, but not unwelcome. As much as she loved the fast-paced action of the business realm, it did become overwhelming at times. Still, at her place on the end of the bed, Amy pulled out a cell phone from the small pocket on her blue blazer. There was a barrage of unanswered messages and emails compiled on the main screen. The desire to check and answer each one was overwhelming simply due to the fact she couldn’t bear to leave things alone. A steady stream of work, school, and doing one thing after another was her way of life. Attempting to not do that had been difficult. Her thumb hovered over the button for a split-second before she shook her head and threw the phone into the soft pillow at the top of the bed.

“Amy! Open up!”

There was a voice from the room door, accompanied by rapid knocking, and Amy’s head whipped around the sound. Her already slightly messy blonde hair was tossed over her back.

Subject: Re: Ripped's Lit Dump Thu May 31, 2018 4:30 pm

3. The Pit

Explanation: This piece is one from a series of many I started working on based on songs. Unlike the one I threw up in a previous post, based on "Fix You", The Pit is still a work in progress. I have a whole plotline in my head that follows Sarah as she dives into the world of "The Pit". Hopefully, I'll get to finish working on this someday. Attached is the song reference to listen to for the vibe of the place I'm trying to catch. The whole thing is a guide for what this story is supposed to look like. I hope you enjoy what is there so far!

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Long dark shadows cast themselves over the well-worn furniture that adorned the formally abandoned room. Low laughs cut through the night’s silence. A light haze of smoke filled the eyes of everyone present. Every person was a mystery. Some had piercings and tattoos, while others simply gave off a vibe of their inner darkness. Those who passed tended to veer to the other side of the street to avoid getting too close. Right outside the hole of an entrance was a hand-carved and aged sign that read “The Pit”. Most of the time a sort of guard was leaned up against the crumbling brick, cigarette between his lips and eyes downcast. His presence alone discouraged visitors from coming near.

The majority of the town collectively avoided “The Pit”. It was a place of rejects and outsiders. Those who called “The Pit” home kept to themselves and there was never any problems. A rift was evident between the people, but it did not seem to bother either group. Disgust and pride separated them. There was no reason for them to interact with each other, so they simply didn’t. As a whole, the town was rather small. Everyone knew each other, so it was obvious what the standard was for regular citizens. Anyone who did not fit that standard was cast to the shadows of “The Pit”.
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“Sarah, hurry up! We’re gonna be late!” A voice rose above the babbles of other in the school halls. Sarah turned to face towards the source of the voice with a heavy sigh. While she loved her friends, there were plenty of times that she got easily annoyed with them. This was one of those times. She plastered a small smile onto her lips before responding.

“I’m so sorry, Jane, I forgot to tell you I won’t be able to go with you today. But definitely later this week. Promise.” Sarah would rather die than spend a day out shopping, but her social image demanded she fit in. All the other girls loved to go shopping, so she did too. Her friend pouted, yet quickly recovered when a couple other preppy girls walked up, all ready to head out to shop for the evening, “Have fun! Wish I could go.”

No one realized how empty her words were. She was sick of simply blending into the crowd. Her steps carried her quickly out to a fairly new two-doored Toyota. Climbing in, she let out a sigh of relief. Here, there was nothing to worry about and no one to impress. She was consistently growing sick of façade she put up daily. It exhausted her. However, driving allowed her to clear her head. Letting the music flow allowed her to feel more than the suppression that constantly gripped her. As her foot pressed down on the gas pedal, Sarah allowed herself to relax. It terrified her to realize what direction she was driving, but it was also exhilarating. The car raced through the heart of downtown towards a block of shadowed and rundown buildings. It was peaceful here. She came to a stop in one of the spots lining the near-empty streets. Over here, the fakeness that drenched almost every town inhabitant evaporated. Her feet touched the ground uncertainly. But she got up and continued towards the vacant sidewalk.

For a few moments, she was tense but allowed herself to relax the more her feet became acquainted with the pavement. The consistent need to act out a desirable life had no place here. She stopped and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling when a voice sliced through the silence.

“Well, what do we have here?” Sarah’s eyes shot opened and she whipped around to meet the eyes of a slightly older guy. His clothes were well worn and he slouched forward, giving off the vibe of someone who had been beaten down by life. Yet, this boy still had an air of self-empowerment about him. Her eyes darted to the other boys with him. Two others stood slightly off behind him, in a similar state, but without the power. Mentally she wrote them off as his groupies and looked back at the self-proclaimed leader of the trio.

“Sarah Highland, from uptown. And you are?” She narrowed her eyes in a glare. No one talked to her like this.

“Ah, an up-towner, as I guessed,” He laughed, but his tone held hints of disgust, “Not often we find something like you down here.” His groupies smirked and exchanged looks that Sarah could not understand.

“What do you think, Matt? Take her home?” The shorter one asked huskily. Matt, the one who dominated the group, clenched his fist at the question. Obviously, this wasn’t the right thing to say. Matt mumbled something back to him and shoved him backward. The taller kid started whispering back and forth with his leader quickly. Sarah’s eyes darted around nervously, desperately searching for someone who happened to be wandering the abandoned streets. Nothing. The first kid, whose name she still didn’t know, stared her down daring her to move. A lump stuck in her throat as the two other guys turned their attention back towards her. There was a hunger in their looks that made her take an involuntary step backward. Whatever they wanted, it could not be good.

“You know, Toad,” Matt said with a grin, “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea”. At once they all flew towards her. Hands grabbing at her jacket and trying to pull her in. Before she could even think about screaming, a hand was clamped over her mouth firmly.

“Don’t try to scream. Matt doesn’t like screamers,” Toad laughed. The trio started pulling her down the road. Sarah’s arms were held back and her mouth kept shut. They dragged her towards an old beater. Her struggling didn’t stop, but it seemed more and more futile the closer they got to the car. This is it, she thought numbly. If only she had gone with her friends instead of coming to this hell-hole. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to hold back the welling tears.

“Hey!” A deep voice stopped them all dead in their tracks. Sarah opened her eyes slightly to see another guy. He was taller than the three that held onto her. His jeans were worn, just like the slightly over-sized black sweatshirt. Another down-towner. The moment of hope she felt at the sound of his voice was squashed in an instance. The new guy was just as intimidating as the rest, if not more so. A mess of brown hair fell slightly in his eyes, shadowing whatever they would have betrayed. After a few seconds, no one had said anything, so he continued, “What are you low-lifes up to?”. Sarah would have normally had to keep herself from scoffing at his words. They were all low-lifes by birth right. But right now, the noise couldn’t make it from her shaking throat.

Through the small comments they’d made on the way over, Sarah figured out the third kid’s name was Chuckie. Whether it was his real name or a nickname, she couldn’t care less. He was the first to speak up this time, “Nothin’”. Matt rolled his eyes and elbowed Chuckie, loosening his grip on her a little. Finally, she could breathe a little. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, though. This wasn’t over.

“Yeah, Chuck? Pulling a struggling girl into your car is nothing now? Huh,” He shook the hair out of his eyes to shoot them all a glare, “Well, I don’t think I can let that happen. I’m taking her with me”. Great, from one to another. Passed like a commodity, her thoughts became dark.

“But-” Toad began to protest pathetically before Matt interrupted.

“She’s all yours, man,” Matt pushed her over without hesitation. Suddenly, all power he seemed to have was gone in the presence of whoever this was. The new kid grabbed her and dismissed the other boys with a tight nod. They scrambled into the car and drove off within a minute. Sarah looked up at her new captor with wide eyes but didn’t dare to say anything yet, afraid her voice would betray how terrified she was. For a bit the pair of them walked in silence, him with a tight grip on her arm.

Suddenly, he let out a low laugh, “Those idiots scrambled real fast”. Sarah wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to her. Regardless of his intention, her fear was quickly being replaced by aggravation at being man-handled.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked sharply, casting an unhappy look at his face. He stopped.

“Well, princess, I thought I was saving your life. Don’t ya think I deserve a little thanks?” Sarah tugged her arm away at his slackened grasp.

“How was I supposed to know?” Her own accusation dug into her uncomfortably. She just assumed he was taking her for himself. Apparently, that was wrong. Internally she cursed herself and relented, “Thanks”.

“There it is,” He said sarcastically, “Just assumed the down-towner was going to take you off and ravage you. Typical. Just like all of you”. The slightly older guy rolled his eyes in disgust and stuck his hands in the sweatshirt pockets. For a moment, she was too stunned to say anything. Here he was accusing her of stereotyping when he was going back and doing the same. She was nothing like the other up-towners. That was the whole reason she was in this mess in the first place.

“Now who is making assumptions. You calling me out, when you are doing it yourself-”

“But am I wrong, princess?” He shot back evenly.

“Stop calling me that!” Realizing how loud her voice had gotten, Sarah shrunk back a little bit and tried to choke her last words, but they still came out as intended. He planted his feet on the cracked concrete and faced her. Again, worry crept in. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed like an eternity.
[To be continued...]

Subject: Re: Ripped's Lit Dump Thu May 31, 2018 4:31 pm

4. A Poetry Dump

Explanation: This is simply a collection of random freestyle poems I've written over the years. A lot of them are actually a few years old, so enjoy a little bit of angsty end of high school Ripped. I'm not sure any of them are all that good, but it is always fun for me to write and finish something short and simple.
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Ended

It was inside her
Folded up
Tightly and neatly
Like a napkin from some upscale restaurant

Unnoticed
A secret from the world
One that was festering
Threatening to take control

Tears leaking from her eyes as she realized
All the things they said were true
The secret?
Not so secret anymore

Hopelessness
No longer a bud
A full bloom
Complete with thorns

Engulfing her
Becoming everything to her
While everything was nothing
Nothing to lose

Time at a standstill
Knife in hand
Taunting words ringing
Hurting more than they know

Ended
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Lessons

Mastering the tongue is an art
A skill acquired through experience
Trial and error
Words poison on the lips

Holding back thoughts
(And truths)
Becomes necessary for survival
(Hiding behind the curtain)

The mask melds itself on
Preventing anyone from looking in
And anything from getting out
But it's just another lesson learned
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Light

Light; pure, eternal and burning with the greatest of purpose.
Her body it's mortal cage.
Weak and unprotected, the light becomes forgotten,
Marred by the darkness that stems from sin.
Demons snarl nearby,
Longing to destroy the surprisingly still lit glow.
Slowly, her light becomes buried.
Hidden.
Only to be seen by those who themselves battle with the iniquity.
Yet, even then, a glimpse is rare.
Thus, the battle becomes one sided.
Any defenses around the radiance fall,
Rendering the world around it corrupt.
Struggling grows vain.
A lost cause.
Hopelessness is all that's left for the luminescence,
Now shrouded by shadows.
Until, he comes.
Strength for her,
Reviving the desire to live.
Odds evened,
The light ignites to a blaze.
The demons that are too close burn.
Revitalized,
It once again rages with purpose.
A near defeat transformed into a beacon of hope,
Like that first ray of sun after months in a dark cave,
Or acceptance in the midst of rejection.
Immediately he is dubbed her knight and she becomes his.
Love, their shield.
He wields his sword and pushes the angel behind him,
Willing to sacrifice himself for his most precious treasure.
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Little Elephant

Crisp edges folded
Perfect tiny details
Creating the ornate miniature
Made out of a faded money green
Forged by loving hands
That little elephant
Representing more than can be seen
Proving the unseen
He smiles softly
She takes it
Pressing it to her heart
That little elephant
So much more than a little elephant
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Ramblings of the Unloved

It’s almost worse this way
Cheating is fine
Well not okay
Yet there’s a reason for hate
Some sort of logic behind it all
The lies allow rage to burn
You can let the love slowly die off
But when they say the words
Tell you that they simply
“Don’t love you anymore”
A pit you can’t swallow sits
The feelings don’t die
Nothing happens
All you feel is
Dead
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Restored

Inside the broken pieces shatter like the frail glass they are
You put your arms around me
Ignoring the cuts that come along with it
And gather them back up
Restored
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She Didn't Mean to Do It (Rendition)

Regret
Pulling and pushing
Knotting and twisting
Churning in her stomach
The realization time cannot be mended
Hits her like a two ton weight to the chest
She didn’t mean to do it

Intentions went awry
Miscommunication
Cost her something of too high value
An irreplaceable treasure
Ripped and stolen
Never to be returned
She didn’t mean to do it
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Writer's Block

Those were long afternoons when poetry left me
The words running, escaping, out of my mind
Like fleeting whispers of the wind
Or getting trapped
Stuck
In some long-forgotten corner of my brain
Thoughts stutter
Once free flowing verses cease to exist
But one day, I know, it will be otherwise