Peace

I take a step forward and the snapping debris under my foot sends a chill up my spine. I move my foot aside and look down at the object that I stepped on. What I see brings tears to my eyes. It is a piece of my past; a broken memory of what was. As I look up, my breath catches in my throat. What I witness astonished me. Around me for miles are more and more of these pieces - each one a piece of my past and who I was. My heart tears at the thought.

Caught up in the emotion, I look down at my hands. Only seventeen and a half years old and already, my hands are beginning to work. I find peace in the worn texture of my hands for I know that these hands are now capable of rebuilding more memories around me and that I don't have to stand in the debris of my previous life.

Standing in the dust, I raise my worn hands in the air and let the sun shine upon them.

We're Living in the Modern Depression

We're living in the modern depression
Where families are fighting to survive
Where businesses are struggling to not go under
And the unemployment rate's on the rise

We're living in the modern depression
Where food kitchen lines are out the door
Where homeless shelters can't stay stocked
And there's a new definition to 'poor'

We're living in the modern depression
Where the wealthy are now middle class
Where people are selling their luxuries
And comfort is a like thing of the past

We're living in the modern depression
Where we're going back to the thirties
Where we must now leave behind our pride
And ask for some help when we're hungry

We're living in the modern depression
Where helping others is what to do
Where families become what's important
And together we're just trying to get through

We're living in the modern depression
Where tomorrow we hope for the best
Where we will be stronger and tougher
And ready to just finish the rest

We're living in the modern depression
Where we will finally all get through
We'll do our best and win this race
I know 'cause that's all we can do

Float

I'm stuck in two realities
And I'm just starting to get in touch with the other
I'm falling into the life of doubles
And I'm just starting to learn to hate it and love it

I found myself alive today
When in my dreams, I was as dead as I ever was
I found myself breathing today
When sometimes suffocating seems to be easier

The pressure keeps on pressing
And I'm underneath it with no protection
One human life is hard enough
And now I'm fighting not to drown in this one

Float, float
I have to at least keep floating
Float, float
Sinking is not an option

Float, float
I have to move with the current
Float, float
I cannot drown

Human

This is very abstract. I'd actually love to hear your thoughts on this.

You have an imaginary man fight your battles
You trip on the air and break your heart
You find the hay in a giant stack of needles
And you still put on the act

You jump a thousand feet to touch the clouds
You shred un-used paper to be set apart
You look for darkness with a flashlight in hand
And you still try to pretend

You dream of things that happened weeks before
You make things to insult the ones you love
You follow the scent of tomorrow with hunger
And you still continue on

You think as if you stand alone on the Earth
You run to the meadow of polluted air
You want to be the one to make the stars
And still you are you

The rain will pour
The Earth will spin
The stars will shine
The waves will crash
And you are human

Paths

This is just how I'm seeing my life right now. I'm interested to see who can figure out what each "path" is.

The paths extend beyond me, displaying the many options of which I have. Some seem so empty and lonesome. Others, seem very pleasant. However, one road, stained with the marks of those before me, stands out among the others. I will be the only one of my generation from my past to follow this one, but I know that it is the path I must take. I know that it will lead me to the places that I must go. There is another path though. It’s maroon color beckons me with its familiarity. The people whom I am close to are moving towards this path, but it is not for me. Yet, it still tempts me and begs for me to follow, too. I need to remember the true path that I must take for it is the path that will carry me on to the rest of my life. I need to trust in my heart and the Lord.

Beautiful

Sometimes the most beautiful skies are the ones right before a storm when the clouds roll in.
Sometimes the most beautiful times as a family are when you’re all hurt and comfort each other.
Sometimes the most beautiful moments are when you’re stuck in traffic and your song comes on.
Sometimes the most beautiful memories are when the power’s out and board games are all you have.
Sometimes the most beautiful feelings are when someone takes care of you when you’re sick.
Sometimes the most beautiful work of God is when your life is at its worst and He still loves you.

Brilliant

I want to be brilliant; to be the one that everyone remembers for changing the world.
To hold the secrets of the human heart would give me the power of the universe.
To have the power of God for one single moment, I know would kill me.
I want to be brilliant; I want to learn to be like God and survive.

I want to be brilliant; to love those that hurt me without guilt.
To love the world and accept the evil that lives among it would tear me down.
To have the mind of the world as a whole, I know would kill me.
I want to be brilliant; I want to be in the world, but be of God.

Decide

Another random short story!

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?” the woman asked her from across the room. Her seat behind the counter limited her view of the tiny woman, but she awkwardly craned her neck to get a look. “I don’t mind getting you some water.”

“I’m fine.” the woman answered back blankly. She obviously had a lot of emotions running through her mind.

The woman behind the counter clearly heard her answer, but decided that it wasn’t good enough. She stood up from her place behind the counter and made her way into the waiting room of the medical facility. As soon as she got a complete view of the young woman, she knew she had lied to her about being fine.

The petite brunette was in a state of complete turmoil, gripping her purse tightly with one hand her cell phone in the other. Her eyes were fixated on a plastic chair across the room from her, but her mind was fixated on the problem at hand.

“Miss,” Evelyn stated from the doorway. “I need to know. Are you sure you’re alright?”

The small woman looked over to the aged woman in her white medical uniform. She wanted to cry and spill the beans of her life to this woman, but she knew that that would be ridiculous.

“I’m fine, really.” she replied. She tried to fake a smile, but it turned into an awkward frown instead.

Evelyn was still not convinced. She took a few more steps towards the woman, afraid that she would protest in the nearness. Surprisingly, however, the woman did not stop her and Evelyn took the seat next to the her.

“You mind me asking why you’re here?” Evelyn asked sheepishly.

Christa looked over at the older woman and gave her a look of annoyance. “Really, what do you think?”

Evelyn shook her head. Of course she knew that this was an abortion center! “No, I mean, well, you don’t look like the type to get an abortion.”

Christa sighed at the question and found interest in the zipper of her purse. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was either.”

Evelyn looked down at her shoes, unsure of what to say. She was startled however when Christa continued.

“My husband, Jackson, and I, well, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for years now.” she paused and took a deep breath, unable to believe that she was spilling her guts to this stranger. “But that was before he lost his job.”

Evelyn reached out and rubbed her arm lightly. “I’m sorry, dear. This economy is rough on everybody.”

Christa shook her head. “No, it’s not just that. He felt like such a failure that he turned to alcohol. He’s never hurt me, I mean, but I won’t let my child be born to an alcoholic.”

Evelyn tried to comfort the poor woman. “I’m sure the joy of a baby would bring him out of that stupor he’s in.”

Christa just stood up suddenly and started pacing the room. “It won’t, I know it won’t. My mom thought that, too, when she had me and it obviously didn’t work.”

Evelyn looked up at Christa from her seat, confused by what she was saying. “Honey, I don’t understand.”

Christa looked at her with an annoyed expression again. “My father, he was an alcoholic. My mom thought that having me would stop him from drinking.” She looked down at the tiles. “But it didn’t and I never got to know him because of it.”

Evelyn sighed. This woman wasn’t dealing with just a pregnancy and an alcoholic husband, but her past as well. She gestured Christa to the seat beside her and waited for her to take a seat.

“Sweetheart, have you talked to your husband?” Evelyn asked as Christa got resettled in the chair. “I’m sure that communication might clear things up.”

Christa looked back up to the older woman with eyes wide. “Are you serious?” she looked from Evelyn to glance around at the room around her. “I-I-I- can’t do this!” she yelled as she jumped from her seat and started collecting her stuff. “I should have never told you any of that! Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk - that’s what everyone thinks is the solution to everything!” She began to head towards the door, but Evelyn stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

“Honey,” Evelyn yelled out as she tried to get the woman’s attention. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did!”

Both Evelyn and Christa froze. Evelyn couldn’t believe she just admitted her life-long secret to a stranger and Christa was shocked of what she was hearing.

“What?” Christa asked as she turned around.

Evelyn sighed and laid her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. “I know how you feel because I was in the same place, but I didn’t decide correctly. Not only did I destroy my life and my marriage, but I killed my child.”

Christa stared at the older woman, unable to understand what she was being told.

Evelyn continued. “You may end up having to leave Jackson one day. You may have to end up taking on two jobs to provide for yourself. You may have to live with family. It doesn’t matter. I’m telling you now - you better keep that baby.”

Christa shook her head, ready to protest, but Evelyn cut her off.

“When you finally hold that child, nothing else in the world is going to matter. You won’t care what you have to do to protect that baby, but you’ll do anything. All I can tell you is that if you kill that baby, you’re just killing yourself and it’s hard to find life after something like that.”

Christa continued to stare at the woman. She hated it, but everything that Evelyn had just said seemed so real and true. At the instance, she knew that she couldn’t give up that baby, no matter what. She smiled at Evelyn, assuring the woman that her speech had worked. After a few moments of composing herself, she finally had to ask a certain question.

“If you regret having an abortion so much, then why do you work at a center where you see hundreds of girls make that same decision?”

Evelyn just smiled and started to make her way back to her station. She called out behind her, ready for this woman to go get her life straight. “Why do you think this place is going out of business?”

Never Be

A random, short story that I felt like writing. I warn you, random.

Walking through the door of her boyfriend’s humble apartment, Rachelle silently closed the door and stood to take in the sight before her. There he was, the love of her life, sitting silently on a bar stool, head in his hands with tears streaming down his face. How was she supposed to be strong when he was so broken?

As quietly as she could, she made her way towards him, each of his silent sobs ringing in her ears. She wondered how to act with him in his current state, she wondered if she could actually maintain her composure.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, but the gentle touch did not faze the man before her. His body, wracked with sobs and she wondered why the news hurt him this much. Was he mad at her or mad at himself?

“Alex?” she called out softly. He didn’t respond.

She took her time as she climbed into the bar stool next to him, discomfort of a new weight making it difficult. She really didn’t know what to say. Shouldn’t she have been the one to tell him?

“Alex?” she tried again. He still did not respond. “Alex, look at me.” She told him more sternly than she had intended. He finally looked up ; his tear stained face causing her to temporarily lose her train of thought. “I know you’re mad, but—“ he cut her off quickly.

“No, don’t.” he begged of her.

“Alex, we need to talk about this!” she said frustrated. “I know I didn’t get to tell you and I know I left, but I’m back and now we can work this out!”

He closed his eyes and found interest in his worn cabinets. “It’s just so much.” He replied.

Rachelle looked down to the floor as shame spread across her features. “I was scared, Alex. I was scared of my parents, my friends, the baby, you.” She poured out her feelings to him and he still elicited no response. “I need you to at least forgive me. I need you to know that I’m sorry for getting pregnant. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to leave for as long as I did. I just want you back.”

He looked over at her with now sympathetic eyes and she could feel his emotions pierce right through her. Pain, hurt, discomfort, and yet, understanding?

“Babe, it’s not your fault.” He turned and took her hands in his. “Last time I checked, pregnancy was a two-part process.”

She laughed lightly at his response, happy that he didn’t seem mad. She looked up to face him finally and reached out to wipe a stray tear from his handsome face.

“Then what is it? What has got you so upset?” she asked him. She knew she cried herself to sleep for days after finding out about the baby, but this, this just didn’t seem right.

He sighed and played with the bracelet on her wrist – a gift from him to show that they’d always be together. She prayed it still applied now.

She looked to him sternly, waiting for a response. She saw the tears had started back up and then he gave her an answer that tore straight through her soul.

“I know I’d never be a good father.”

For Now

This is just a little something I wrote to describe my current place in life.

She gently laid a hand against the glass and felt the cool sensation it sent along her entire hand. The colors and shapes were driving her crazy. She felt like the dictator of a whole new world, peering in on her inferior people. However, she was no dictator and the fish before her were surely not people. Rather, she was the inferior one, in awe of their glory.

It’s a feeling that she can’t quite explain – the sight of each individual fish with its each individual color, shape, texture, and habits. She wants to be with them - swim with them, name them, love them. Something about fish just inspires her. Odd, but amazing.

It’s not just about fish though. Marine mammals, coral, waves, the ocean – it all brings about feelings that she can’t explain. So badly, she wants to know as much as she can about it and know everything. She wants to be the best of the best, the most knowledgeable marine biologist in the world, she wants to be considered a fish out of water.

However, her time has not yet come. The ocean is meant to be hers one day. God established that when she first threw herself into the salty water of Key Largo, FL and saw the array of life surrounding her. The ocean is meant to be hers and she is meant to be the ocean’s. She sees the ocean as the face of God, presenting itself in individual pieces to inspire awe in those who behold its glory. Yet, it still isn’t her time.

For now, she would have to wait. For now, she would have to dream. For now, aquariums had to be enough.