Poem #1

Today, I am fat.
It’s not anything new because I’ve been this way
As long as I can remember
And it always bothered me,
But not as much as today.
Today my bulges stick out a little further,
My stomach portrudes over my “fat shorts,”
And my jowls look chunkier,
Flapping over my almost invisible neck.
Today my breasts are saggy with age,
My butt round (in a bad way),
And my demeanor pitiful
Because today I weighed myself
For the first time in over a year.
Maybe I should’ve known how much I
Gained
When shirts fit a little tighter,
Or when they began to fit A LOT TIGHTER;
Maybe I should’ve known how much I
Gained
When my pants refused to slip
Over my jumbo thighs
Or when the leggings kept getting holes
In
The
Same
Place
(My inner thigh, of course).
Either way, what I needed
More than anything
Was to feel the opposite of pitiful.
Fierce was my middle name
A few years ago,
Back when I probably shouldn’t have had
THAT
Much confidence.
The years freely rolled on
And the rolls on my back increased,
But you made me believe I was nothing less than
Beautiful all these years,
Until now.
Right now, I feel ugly.
I’m the hideous creature lurking in the shadows,
Grasping to the skinny figure
Hiding under all my fat
And maybe that’s why I feel this way.
I want to yell,
“Hug me, damn it!
I need you so bad right now,”
But I can’t.
I need you to love me now
And tell me I’m the
Perfectly Imperfect
Love of your life
Because, darling, I’m falling apart.
I’m 10 seconds from giving up
And 20 seconds from spewing tears,
And maybe 30 seconds from
Eating a cheeseburger.
It’s not your fault I feel this way,
If anything it’s your fault for
Making me so damn happy all the time.
We happily eat meals together,
Gaining
All the happy calories and fat
Gaining
All the weight on my body now,
Gaining
The lack of courage or confidence
That I now have
Because I can no longer say no to food.
I just don’t feel happy with myself,
But I’m trying.
And I have to try because
Today, I am fat.

Some parts are true, some parts are not. Meh. Summer time again which means more writing!!!

Story #40

“I had quite the party life when I was your age,” Lucille told Hannah while sipping a hot cup of lemon tea.

“Really, grandma? You never talked about it in the past,” Hannah retorted.

“In the past, you were too young to hear my stories, darling. How old are you again: 25, 26…?” Lucille’s voice trailed off as she froze, lost in her own thoughts.

“I’m 27 now, grandma. Are you okay?” Hannah placed a loving hand on her grandma’s shoulder, a concerned look painting her worn out face.

Lucille snapped out of her trance and pet her granddaughter’s hand. “I’m fine, darling. So 27! That’s a great age. When I was 27, I was bouncing in and out of nightclubs with my friends. Oh we had the best time! My signature drink was basically anything with tequila. Back then I had no limitations or obligations. I was just free to live.” Lucille shook her head and stared at Hannah. “Hannah, I’m worried about you.”

Hannah quizzically stared at Lucille, then chuckled. “Why are you worried about me? My life is wonderful. I have a stable relationship, a career, and on the way to buying a new house with the love of my life. I’m great.” She gave a faint smile that said otherwise.

“I don’t want you to have the life I lived,” Lucille said.

“But I’m not. My life sounds like the complete opposite of yours at 27! I rarely, if ever, go out. I have too much to do. It’s not easy being this amazing AND this young in 2090.” Hannah grinned at Lucille. “You should be proud of me.”

Lucille scrunched up her face. “Of course I’m proud of you! And I meant that I want you to have at least a glimpse of the life I had. It was so much fun! You look exhausted, darling. You deserve a dose or two of fun, doctor’s orders.”

Hannah looked up at the giant clock across the room. “I’m having fun being successful, but on that note, I have to go. I have an appointment at…”

“Just leave,” Lucille interjected. She turned her head and looked out into the garden, which was projected on a giant screen that had the word tranquility written in black cursive towards the top of the screen, or “sky”.

Hannah robotically stood up and hugged Lucille, who did not reciprocate the gesture. “I love you,  grandma. Tell me some stories the next time I visit, okay? See you in a couple of days.” She bent down and kissed Lucille on the cheek.

Once Hannah was out of sight, Lucille blinked away a few tears. She thought about how her life really was at 27 and how it actually changed her. She also had a career, along with a flame of a relationship that dimmed her shine. Her granddaughter’s life was a splitting image of hers, and that made her feel sorry for Hannah. She was anxious to see Hannah blossom the way she didn’t have the courage to at her age. At Hannah’s age, she felt trapped. There were endless limitations and infinite obligations.

A nurse suddenly appeared in front of Lucille.”Ms. Lucille, it’s time for your medicine. Look into the light.” Lucille did as instructed, not even blinking when the blinding flash illumimated the room. After a few minutes, her eyes adjusted and everything looked bright again. “How do you feel,” the nurse asked.

“Like I’m 27 again,” Lucille replied, allowing a single tear to fall from one of her eyes.

Only a month of school left. I shall write more stories on the regular again pretty soon.

Story #39

“Why do we kill ourselves for love,” Ashley asked.

Jennifer, her best friend, shrugged and continued stuffing her mouth with kung pao chicken. “All I know is that I’m in love with this Chinese food, dude.”

“Seriously, though! I didn’t even realize until 4 years into my last relationship that I was dying. I was LITERALLY dying,” Ashley exclaimed.

“Come on, Ash. You knew what was coming when you signed up for a relationship. I, on the other hand, avoid thos with a 9 foot pole.” Jennifer burped and rubbed her belly. “That hit the spot.”

Jennifer was painstakingly gorgeous. She was a bit of a slob, but she could have any person she wanted if she signed up for a relationship. Ashley was opposite though.

Fortunately, thanks to new laws and changes within society, you could now sign up to be in a relationship. A company called Life Partners set you up with someone of similar interests and you both signed a contract stating that you would be devoted to your life partner. There was a catch though: you and your partner would also die together and at a faster rate than normal.

“I realized that I don’t even miss Brock. He was handsome and sweet, but also really boring. Also, a bit daft. We were going to die together! Can you imagine dying with someone who makes paint drying seem like a sport?!”

Jennifer nearly spit out her drink from laughing so hard. “The good news is you’re out of that awful contract now.”

Ashley gave a nervous laugh. “Haha, yeah.” She stuck her hand out to grab her drink, and noticed the aging spots on her hand. “Oh, no! Not much time left, now,” Ashley thought to herself.

Story #38

Ellen stared at him as a he stared at his phone. They had been up for awhile, but barely spoken. Michael barely moved a muscle. His eyes focused on the small, lit screen. Five minutes passed before he even noticed Ellen staring at him.

“Are you okay? You look upset,” Michael said, trying to keep his voice even. He already knew what was wrong.

“I do? Nope, I’m fine.” Ellen turned to face the wall.

Michael replied, “Okay,” and went back to whatever was grabbing his attention on his cell phone.

Ellen sighed. Her body language screamed, “OBVIOUSLY SOMETHING IS WRONG AND I WANT YOU TO CONSOLE ME,” but she said nothing.

Warm, salty tears began to stream down Ellen’s cheeks. Before she knew it, she began shaking with uncontrollable anger. Michael sighed, set down his phone, and leaned over to hug Ellen.

“Don’t touch me,” Ellen yelled between sobs.

Michael asked, “What’s happening right now?”

In a matter of seconds, Ellen leaped from the bed and ran out the room. Michael chased her and found her sitting down, frantically stabbing her arms, nearly carving most of the skin off of one of them. Blood splatters covered the kitchen floor. 

“What the fuck?” Michael raced to Ellen’s side to grab the knife from her sweaty palms. She looked up and smiled. Black mass covered her eye sockets. She began laughing like a wild woman. Michael slowly backed up. “This isn’t funny, Ellen. Please stop!”

Ellen stopped laughing and dropped the knife. It looked as if she stood up amd levitated towards Michael.

“You’re pathetic,” the deep voice said. It was no longer Ellen. “You look at your stupid fucking phone all day. You ignore her, and stare at your shitty devices. How do you think she feels, Michael? Hmmm?” The voice coming from Ellen sounded demonic. Ellen began laughing again and grabbed Michael’s neck and squeezed. Michael, thrown off by her sudden strength, clawed at her bloody arms and hands.

“I’m…so…sorry,” Michael managed to say.

Ellen immediately let him go. She tumbled to the floor and gasped for air. She looked down to see blood streaks covering her arms. With desperation in her voice, she asked, “What did you do to me?”
The end. Lesson learned.

Valentine’s Day (Story #37)

“Table for two,” squealed the tiny 12 year old as her boyfriend squeezed her sides.

The concierge threw on her best I’m single and working on the worst day of the year face while grabbing two red, heart shaped menus.

“Fuck this,” I thought as I casually turned and walked towards my car. To be fair, the children were probably in their early 20s, believed that they were madly in love, and didn’t even pay their own cell phone bills. I’m not bitter though.

The closer I got to my car, the more I noticed that I was the only single female in that whole damn parking lot. Are you kidding me? Even the nerdiest of couples were walking hand in hand, absolutely love struck. My brain hadn’t even connected that today was Valentine’s Day even though Google was filled with pink and red hearts. I was off of work today so I missed the older women acting like middle schoolers, flaunting their gigantic teddy bears and shitty Whitman’s candy box bullshit. Maybe I should’ve known it was Valentine’s Day when I saw the ugly, obviously male written, paint on someone’s car windshield that read, “Marry me?” Or maybe I should’ve known when there seemed to be a billion people holding giant bouquets of overpriced roses. I swear, I’m not bitter.

Either way, I started my car and powered up the radio, only to hear, “What’s Love Got to do With It.” The DJ who decided to play that was probably cheated on by their significant other. I laughed at the thought. The streets were mainly empty. I suppose everyone was either eating out or eating in, but I was starving and didn’t want to cook. I decided to drive to the nearest diner.

The windows had leftover Christmas lights loosely strung around the border. It looked as if the diner was halfway empty. “My kind of place,” I thought. The bell rang when I pushed the door open, signaling a waitress with dark red lipstick to look up. This woman had to have been in her late 60s. Her caked on eye shadow melted into the deep creases of her eyelids. The dark, crusty lipstick sat on her thin, wrinkly lips. “Just one, doll,” she inquired, nearly suffocating me with the smell of old cigarettes. I nodded my head and she motioned for me to follow her to the table.

I sat at the table and waited for my server. When I looked around, most of the other patrons were single. They all seemed very content, but they were also all much older than me. Cigarette scent Sally shuffled back to my table. “Here’s some coffee, doll. It helps with broken hearts.” She gave a sympathetic smile and walked away. Do I just look miserable or something? Honestly, I was just super hangry. Nearly every restaurant in town had an hour wait if you didn’t reserve your space. Even McDonald’s was packed! My waitress could’ve given me a Snickers and I would’ve devoured that shit in seconds. Love was not on the brain; just food.

After an hour, I was happy, full, and on my way home. I felt fantastic. My cat, Hero, brushed against my leg when I opened the door to my house. “Hey, bud,” I cooed as I scratched behind his ears. The evening was coming to an end and I had work the next day. Hero curled up beside me in bed and purred while I stroked his back. “Who the hell proposes via car windshield? What a loser,” I said to my empty bedroom. I laughed until my stomach hurt and fell soundly asleep. Valentine’s Day was just that…a day.

 

Story #36

He gently slid his rough, masculine hand down the same face that he punched the night before. The same mouth that constantly belittled Joy kissed the old bruises on her neck.

“We can finally become a real family,” he whispered, rubbing his hand on her belly. 

A few days ago, Joy had found out that she was pregnant. Her heart had sank and she planned on taking care of it…but there wasn’t any place to hide the test or the wrapper. She had stuffed them both under tissue in the bathroom trashcan, the only place she could think of. When Ben had come home from the bar that evening, he stumbled over the trashcan in the bathroom. His blurred vision focused on a plastic unlike the tissue around it. There, in the pile of desperate hope, laid the wrapper and the test. His eyes lit up.
Unfortunately, his happiness had faded as quick as his anger had rushed in. “JOY!” The woman, trembling with fear, ran into the bathroom. “Yes, honey,” she asked. “Pick this shit up. All of it.” Without a second thought she dove to the ground, frantically picking up the tissue. Her thin, shaky hands threw the tissue, wrapper, and test in the trashcan. “Is it mine,” his slurred voice asked. She nodded and he grabbed her, whisking her off her feet. She flinched and nearly collapsed back to the floor. He had kissed her and said, “I’m going to be a daddy. I love you.” Instantly, she had cried, knowing that it was too late to take care of business. The rest of the night was peaceful.

Ben had a short temper, but anyone that knew him thought that he was an angel. He even fooled Joy sometimes. It was only 3 days after he found out about the pregnancy, that he hit Joy again. She was convinced that things would change with him because it had been so long since he hurt her. She was wrong. The mistake this time was serving him cold dinner.

He touched the chicken on the plate. “What the hell is this,” he inquired in the softest tone Joy had ever heard.

“It’s chicken, babe. I made your favorite.” Joy smiled lovingly.

“HOT chicken is my favorite, not cold,” he replied. Ben calmly set down his fork and knife.

“Okay…I’ll heat it up for you.”

Joy stood up and just as she grabbed his plate, he stabbed her hand with the knife. Blood drained from her hand as she screamed. Ben started laughing.

“It’s just a little blood,” he chimed. Joy ran to the sink to run water over her hand. She continued to scream as large tears streamed down her face.

Ben stopped laughing. “Stop it, Joy. You’ll wake the neighbors.” Joy continued crying loudly. Ben stood up and yelled, “Stop crying!” Joy tried to suck in her breaths, but she couldn’t stop. Suddenly, Ben took two swift steps towards the sink and punched Joy in the face. “Snap out of it and stop crying,” his deep voice bellowed.

Joy fell back, stunned and terrified. She reflexively put one hand over her face and held the bloody one up as a shield. Ben stormed out the kitchen into the living room. “Clean that blood up and bring me a beer when you’re done,” he hissed.

The next day, Joy woke up to a room full of roses. At first she thought she had died and gone to Heaven. When she sat up, she saw Ben sitting on the small love seat next to the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up and smiled radiantly. “Good morning, mommy-to-be. I’ve been waiting for you to get up.” Joy slowly sat up, her face still sore from the blow. “What is all this,” she asked.

“A sneak peek to what I have in store for you today.” It was as if all memory of the prior evening had faded. He was absolutely insane. Joy mustered up a faint smile. “I’m so excited,” she said.

The day was a blur of dining out, going shopping, and getting a makeover. “My girl was robbed and beaten last night,” Ben told the cosmetologist. “So I wanted to spoil her and make her feel good again.” The cosmetologist beamed. “Well aren’t you lucky to have a boyfriend so sweet,” she asked while goving Joy a little squeeze on the shoulder. Joy looked at Ben and said, “So lucky.”

That evening Ben checked them into a fancy hotel. He placed the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door handle. As soon as the door closed, he began kissing her. It took everything in Joy to stop herself from backing away from him. “I have one more surprise for you,” Ben whispered.

He got down on one knee and pulled out a small, black box. “Joy, will you do the honor of making me the luckiest man alive?”

Joy broke down. Angry tears streamed from her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She was mad, but more than anything, she was afraid. If she said no, what would he do to her? She shook her head yes and he slid the ring on her finger.

“We can finally become a real family.” Ben lovingly rubbed her belly. He hugged her tight, nearly squeezing the air from her lungs. She realized in that moment that she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

Best Friend

Best Friend

It was afternoon when the girl received the text. Her heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces.

When she arrived to the house, he continued to lay there. It was as if his body was frozen on the hardwood floor. “Hey, bud, are you awake,” she asked. When she slid the chair across the floor, the old dog propped his head up. His bones ached as he stretched and tried his best to get up. “It’s okay, you can stay laying down. I’ll come to you,” she said. She sat down on the floor next to him, staring into his glossy, marble eyes. She felt her own eyes begin to swell up with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she said. She stroked his long, golden fur. He laid his head on her lap. It was peaceful.

He had been around for 14 years and he was her first best friend. She remembered when she got him in 7th grade. Back then she was afraid of dogs, now all she wanted to do was cradle the senior citizen dog. He looked up at her with curious eyes even though he was almost blind. His tail didn’t wag because it couldn’t. He didn’t sit up like he used to because he couldn’t. All he did was stare.

“I should’ve never left you when I was in college. I know I should’ve brought you with me, and I’m sorry that when I came back I didn’t cherish you like I used to…but I want you to know that I’ll always love you and you’ll always be in my heart.”

She sniffed and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked up, grabbed a spoon, and opened the peanut butter jar. His little face seemed to perk up. His eyes almostĀ sparkled. She took a spoonful of peanut butter, and fed it to her dog. Because he was so old, he tried to chew the spoon instead of lick it. Peanut butter hung from his snout until he realized it was there. He licked his lips and looked up, begging for more. She laughed. When the spoon was licked clean, she threw it away.

The sun was beginning to set and she had to go home. She hugged him as hard as she could, which wasn’t that hard because he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He stood there, frozen in place. She kissed him on his cheek and said, “Bye, Joe. I’ll see you next time.”

20161003_171948

I’ll never forget you, Joe.