My life still stuck on pause, as I clean damage you’ve caused.

A crow caws near the window, fates innuendo?

Heartbeat lacks a tempo, like that of a widow’s

Weeping like willows, I use my leaves roll up trees till’ anxiety’s ease then quietly scream in my pillow!

Am I to believe, you straight lied through your teeth?

Lies you conceived, are like hives full of bees your loving is sweet, till’ it leaves then it stings!

Used my self esteem like a puppeteer’s strings, made your fool with each pull capable of such terrible things!

A monster, a menace, a heart torn then transformed to a beautiful tempest!

Her nature’s relentless, please save her prevent this!

My self sacrificed, for the life of somebody else with nobody’s help who’s only self interest is maintaining what little she has left of her mental health….

Our story begins in a lovely forest, bustling with wildlife along with the typical going’s on of a normal summer day. Suddenly, a thicket of bushes rustles about finally giving way revealing Hansel as he clumsily falls out of the bush. Followed by the droning commentary of Gretel, who flawlessly exits the bush stepping on Hansel as if she were playing hopscotch.

GRETEL: Ouuuu hänsel, you should have listened und navigated the bush with the ladylike graces as I did…uhhh…hänsel?

NARRATOR: Hansel who currently cannot breathe after having, “the wind knocked out of him”. But like some sort of superhero, upon hearing the utterance, “Ouuuuu hänsel!?”, he’s somehow on his feet and looks to have not missed a beat. Well, beside the thorns poking out of his hat and culturally appropriate lederhosen.

HANSEL: Gretel!!!? Where did you wander off to-???

NARRATOR: As, Hansel begins heading in the same direction he saw Gretel take off towards. He is rendered speechless, by what we all know as the baseline to Megan Thee Stallion’s song Hot Girl, as the sound steadily grows with each step he takes. Hansel fears for his life never having heard such sounds, anticipation nearing climax Gretel then springs forth from the tree top with an agility uncharacteristic to her heavy set frame. At which point Hansel dies from cardiac arrest induced by fright, and his soul starts existing his lifeless body ascending to the heavens with such a peaceful expression…until!

GRETEL: OuuuuuOUUUUU it’s zee house made of bread hänsel!!!

NARRATOR: Gretel then begins violently shaking Hansel with one arm, still facing the meadow not really paying attention to the shaking of Hansel’s limp body. Hansel’s Soul Form, still enamored by heavens bliss starts getting hit in the face by something which also seems to be affecting the heavenly light pulling Hansel into the sky as it starts to glitch resulting in Hansel’s descent back to earth. He desperately claws towards the sky, but it is too late! Quickly brought back to life by one of Gretel’s backhands.

GRETEL: ugh, hänsel this is no time to be napping we are here!!!! The infamous gingerbread bread house of the witch, but I see no witch or house made of gingerbread. Just pit bulls, Cadillacs, and very voluptuous women of every ethnicity. Also, zee sign clearly says “trap house”, not gingerbread house. Zoinkys hänsel, looks like we’ve got a mystery on our hands!

NARRATOR: Says Gretel as she turns back to face Hansel, whom is still disoriented from the whole out-of-body experience and appears to be grabbing at imaginary tweetie birds flying round’ his head.

GRETEL: Aweeee! So silly hänsel, silly but cute!

NARRATOR: Said as she leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Miraculously healing Hansel of all injuries, even going as far as to *POOF* a nice spiffy little bandage around his head out of thin air.

GRETEL: Now hänsel, we begin operation, “Eat Zee Sweets”, in which we beat zee boss witch and steal their sweets for our tummies.

HANSEL: But Gretel, how are we going to get past the guard dogs? Gretel!?

NARRATOR: Unfortunately, Hansel’s questions were answered by the sound of a whistle as well as the strong aroma of bacon. Gretel has somehow filled Hansel’s lederhosen with the savory breakfast entree with the quickness, so Hansel darts off into the woods followed by a pack of hungry pit bulls. Gretel then slyly eases out of a shadow cast by a big tree, covertly sneaking within the perimeter of the house. She canvases the immediate area surrounding the house to find what she deems unfamiliar, but the reader recognizes as equipment for shooting a music video. Gretel then, again like a rhino with cat like agility, jumps, climbs, and rolls atop the roof perfectly positioned to peek into the home via skylight. Gretel then sees Meg and her entourage of girlfriends choreographing dance moves for the video, but Gretel being battle hardened from previous ops mistakes the choreography for practicing of hand to hand combat. Gretel panics, there was nothing in the dossier detailing this many witch underlings. What to do? Call the op off, do more reconnaissance, and find-

GRETEL: OH NO!!! Hänsel!!!!!

NARRATOR: At this moment the rehearsal is brought to a grinding halt, as Hansel is thrown onto the floor in the center of the room. Captured by the group of male backup dancers, lead by Devon who is characterized by bronze not brains.

MEG: What.Thee.Fuck Devin!? I told you not to interrupt us for nothing-

DEVON: But you said if we catch something to let you know, and look at what the cat drug in-

NARRATOR: Devon sentence stopped short by the impact of Meg’s left high heel.

MEG: If you ever interrupt me as I am literally telling you not to interrupt me again, it’ll be ya life Deveeeen!

DEVON: Mam, it’s dev-on like as in turn the lights on-

NARRATOR: Devon’s sentence cut short again, but this time simply because Meg pretended she was going to hit him causing him to flinch greatly. Meg walking towards Hansel, pets the dogs as to acknowledge and apologize to them for Devon’s cliche reference telling the pit bulls they are big strong dogs not dainty little cats.

MEG: Next time he says look at what the cats dragged in, I want y’all to drag him right out the door and show em’ what we do to cats.

NARRATOR: The band of dogs nodding their heads in unison then take off after Devon, now calling them big strong dogs and apologizing for interrupting Meg.

MEG: Anywho, who tf are you!?

NARRATOR: Hansel suffering from extensive abuse at this point, is unable to utter a word. This upsets Gretel, watching helplessly from the roof.

MEG: Oh, so you wanna play it that way huh? Grab em’ girls!

NARRATOR: Hansel, being the youthful male adolescent he is, now being handled by two busty beautiful women. Shrieks in excitement! Catching everybody off guard, the sound is shrilly like that of a little girls scream and the final straw for Gretel. Who spectacularly breaks through the ceiling, incapacitating the two women holding Hansel in an effort to save him. It has the opposite effect though, Hansel now heartbroken becomes distraught and begins pouting.

MEG: Woah now, and whom might you be!?

GRETEL: I am Gretel, part one of the two part; Hänsel Und Gretel Spec Ops Team! Und I am here to carry out operation “Eat Zee Sweets”, but your house isn’t made of bread und I see no pastry’s or cakes to dine on.?

MEG: My house is made of bread look, that face all on the wallpaper is my best friend Benji aka Benjamin Franklin aka HunDon aka Mozzarella aka Dough aka Bread. You get the artistic reference?

NARRATOR: Gretel, now more confused but still trying says.

GRETEL: Okay Okay, ummmm where is the cake then!!?

MEG: Babygirl, it’s all around ya. Real Hot Girl Ishhh!!!!!

NARRATOR: Upon hearing Meg say those words, all the female dancers start shaking they boobies and butts with their tongue out.

GRETEL: Ahhhh, what is that incessant clapping sound make it stop!

MEG: Girl what you mean!? That clapping sound is the sound of that cake you looking for.

GRETEL: No you seem to be confused, operation “Eat Zee Sweets”! Not operation Eat Zee Big Round Booties of your many friends.

NARRATOR: Hansel’s facial expression couldn’t disagree with Gretel’s statement anymore if it tried

GIRLFRIEND#1: Meg look at their foreign a** get up, maybe “Eat Zee Sweet” is German Ebonics for “hit a lick”.

MEG: First off, ain’t nobody finna’ eat this sweet sweetie. I live by this unspoken rule, I don’t fw anybody in Levi’s (like the jean’s) or lederhosen. So, that was never an option. Second off, she gonna catch this smoke regardless cause she knocked out NiqueNique’ and Destiny! Third off, this German b**** busted through my mf’n roof and I know for a fact Allstate don’t cover Fat German Women so big they a hazard to the structural integrity of every home they walk into hah- *SLAP*

NARRATOR: Not again, omg Gretel with them unsuspecting cheetah like reflexes has snuck Meg with a slap to the face already!

Will Hansel get his handful!?

Will Gretel regret what slapping Meg entails!??

Will Meg ever pronounce Devon’s name correctly!?????

Like, Comment, Repost to find out!

So many things I could say..

Instead, I choose to wash it away.

You’re acts were horrendous, so my options are endless!

…but my head is no longer a place that you stay.

….and your games are no longer things that I play.

Watch as I breathe and just let it all leave, so simply I wash it away!

Ms. Eberly, enough could I ever be?

Such plentiful pleasantry presented as heavenly existential necessity.

No longer next to me, no longer vexed by excess of my pestering.

For the wall boast the lettering, of all my falls, faults, and feelings left festering.

Forsaken, for life filled with better things.

Forces, establishing courses with coordinates that plot you a future with lots of importance.

Foreseen, for a queen not the likes of a fiend found down on his luck nearly drowned in ravines.

Just a clown in a scene, with a frown and a theme.

Proudly redeemed by the sweat of his brow not the boos or the bows he’s yet to have seen.

Fortune forgets all the steps he has crept, better yet tears he has wept with the years...I would bet now amount to a river or his riverbed.

Forever in debt to the love he once lost, the day he lost his head.

Watched with regret, it was clear that her fear would replace any place he once had in her stead.

Apologies, she probably sees as being misled.

Are all that he’s said, but she’s tired of liars her tires haven’t the tread.

So, despite how he fights she now cuts out the lights and goes straight to bed…

Thoughts being better off dead are better off shed, now he write letters attempting to tether the ties that he severed…but he should have done better, cause his next chance to advance looks to be never….

There she sat, waiting for a response…

Dreadful, was the cold shoulder she received.

Still, warmly will his timely response surely be met.

Or?

Does he even really exist to her..?she isn’t sure of that, but to be honest she isn’t sure of much these days. So who is he to feel any type of way regarding the nothing they are, wait; I mean..

the momentary joy she feels as she reads the pieces of himself he leaves inside shiny handheld box’s of light built to draw in her attention, hemmed together by the zeros and ones that telecommunicat’e so plainly feelings that he cast extraordinarily!!!

..but then again what are these words to begin with?

Endings?

Beginnings?

Cliff hangers?

Cliff dives!?

….I believe,

The ramblings of an extremely lonely soul, condemned here by love; which is ruthless in its many aspects of torture that conveniently conceal themselves behind the most mundane of words.

Be it, a long awaited ‘response’ or simply a lack thereof ….

@LEBass

It is highly unlikely, because nobody likes me.

Comfort can’t find me, as I search for her love ever so blindly.

Oh Aphrodite, break free from such chains which were used to bind thee.

Mortal myths of our love, all I have to remind me.

Of unbreakable vows and sweet silver linings.

A sort of consort which had others whining.

My graceful wind chime that danced with mankind and did it so kindly.

Up you would wind me, till in rage I was crying.

High we were flying, now the grounds where I’m lying.

I’ll endlessly search, I’ll never stop trying!

For my heart without you, is much worse than dying.

Here is my crazy idea; I propose this “thing” haunting my nightmares is really just an extension of my fears, as I have stated in my other post, this “thing” has given itself a name “Diocletious” and randomly takes control of my dreams to either kill me or teach me some sick twisted lesson through evil manipulation. The story which you are about to read details a nightmare I had the other night, and in this nightmare I was going on a run when suddenly the ambience of the dream changes. Turning into frightening fight for my life!

Unknown Hunter

In this dream Topher is running laps around the field behind his childhood home (not the home he is asleep at). When all of the sudden, while he is rounding the curve furthest from everything a curve that always use to scare him as a kid, he hears a loan shot. Instinctively Topher drops to his stomach immediately, hearing the bullet wizz by coming from his six which is SouthEast. Topher jumps up running towards the woods in front of him which would be in the Southwest direction, *bang* Topher stops on a dime switching direction running now towards the woods north of him. Unfortunately, Topher was not as quick as he had hoped. The .308 round, skimming him, still takes a significant chunk out of Topher’s left arm but adrenaline has already set in so Topher doesn’t even notice. Diving into the thicket of brush that he had began running towards when he heard the second shot, he rolls a good 30 yards down the drainage ditch. Slapping an old fallen tree so hard with his left shoulder the pain from the shot instantly exceeds the adrenaline high, but the thud from the impact also dazes him slightly. Until, *bang* a shot hits the base of the branch topher was resting on (insinuating the shooter is sadistic and simply having fun).

Topher jumps to the side of the fallen tree, using the momentum to roll a little bit further down the embankment just enough to where the shooter no longer has a line of sight on Topher. Also, using the momentum he rolls himself back onto his feet and hits the jets. Using the incline of the hill to help he descends down said hill even faster. Within 45 seconds Topher has made it at least 75 yards from where the shooter nearly struck him last, so he begins to gain his baring. This takes around two minutes, once Topher understands which direction he needs to go in order to get back to his home. He realizes the music in his headphones is still playing thinking to himself, “you stupid dumbass”, so he drops to the ground again. Tries to dial 911, but when the lady on the other end of the line answers she can not hear or understand what Topher is saying. Topher realizes he must make a mad dash in a slightly north majority East direction, which is extremely unsettling because that gives the shooter easy pickings considering (with the shooters intelligence) that the shooter most likely has found a perch southwest of Topher’s position. Meaning the shooters line of sight blocks Topher from the field without a doubt, so the only thing Topher has to rely on is speed and hope for the best.

Topher jumps up as quick as he possibly can, *bang* a shoot just barely misses Topher. Topher takes off as fast he can, making it about 30 yards before intuitively stopping right before a tree he was planning on using for cover. Note that he stops about a foot befor the actual tree, *bang* a shot tears through the tree that use to be a foot away from Topher. He now takes back off giving it everything he has, because now there is only 70 yards between him and the field. Topher then begins feeling uneasy, here he is 10-15 yards out from the field and still hasn’t heard a shot yet. Especially because the shooter’s average yardage between shots has yet to exceed 50 yards, nevertheless Topher begins dialing 911. Figuring that he was close enough to the field to get reception, he does, the lady joyously says she can understand everything he is saying. At this point Topher is 7 yards past the Forrest line he had been trying to escape this entire time, *bang* Topher somewhat drops to his knees but regained footing with what is now a slight jog instead of the full out sprint he was just previously doing. Gargling on the blood from his lungs, Topher desperately tries to give the dispatcher his location *bang*.

Topher then drops giving way to the second shot landing center mass, as Topher begins fading all that can be heard is the dispatcher who at this point is yelling for Christopher to please answer her voice.

End.

Upon initial reflection, I am left with this first thought. I never got to see this "shooter", meaning I am not entirely sure if the "shooter" was this "thing(Diocletious)" that has previously haunted my dreams. My second thought, the creepy vibe I felt whenever I entered that specific corner of the field was definitely similar to the creepy vibe I feel whenever the "thing(Diocletious)" appears in my other dreams. Third thought, the sadistic methods used by the "shooter" just seem like actions "thing(Diocletious)" would use. Fourth thought, considering I did not get to see the "shooter's" face. This "shooter" might just be a random un-orchestrated nightmare, and I am just crazy to think an extension of my fears would have the ability to name itself or even being able to manipulate a good dream into a nightmare.

Just another one of my crazy thoughts and ideas !!?

@Prose

#craziest idea

#AreGodsMoody

#WeeklyChalleng CLXXX

A girl invites a boy over, she’s isn’t sure of her intentions though; she enjoys his company but still has feelings from a relationship that has remained since high school whenever she gave everything to her first love. Our boy is conflicted, he sees her intentions but does not understand why she wants him there. Does she see a future? Is she momentarily lonely? Despite, he makes the trek. Arriving to a situation he has become familiar with, and one that gave life to the boy’s initial conflict. He shows up, they hang out but now the conversation lacks topic so nothing is said. Just the sound of music and pillars of smoke fill the car, each of them staying glued to their phones. The boy writes as the girl messages her best friend. Whenever he leaves, she will instantly text or message via social media which confuses him. He was just in front of her five minutes ago, but seemingly did not exist. He wonders what could be on her mind, because she was texting her first love (aka Best Friend) the entire time he was just in front of her five minutes ago, so why isn’t she texting her first love like she was just doing the entire time he was right next to her. Does her first love not provide the same type of attention our boy gives the girl? Well, if that was the case why was the boy’s existence just non existent !? He was in her presence, physically with her, but she didn’t act so desperate for his attention; in fact one could go as far as to say she ignored him. Adding to the fact, she was texting here first love the entire time the boy was there. Perplexing, yet he responds with virility. While she has become caught between two worlds, he has become caught between two simple words: Kayla Hope. Miss Hope, what is he to do but act like rain again falling for you?

#Famewriter

#Rain

#Prose

The first time I saw you my whole body seized!

Your gaze drew me closer like tides in the sea

Like a sweet summer breeze that brings life to the leaves

My heart beats like some thunder succumb to her pleas

Sweeped off my feet and now down on my knees

Begging you please!!

But a waste of my time...

Still I turn to my lines, and cut them up fine..

Cause comfort in blunder will be all that I find.

Where were the signs?

I must have been blind or stuck right behind, all of the barriers you would force me to climb

Still....For you, all I have is my love like the song by sublime

It's what I got!!!!

I Still get sick from the thought

You know what I've been through you know your my rock

Let's not get into the reasons we fought

I mean you called the cops

Thrown to the wolves and fed to the crocs.

But black says the pot to the kettle

Was too young to settle, I always would tell you

Or act like I had the busiest schedule

Still, you rocked my boat in the hopes of sinking my vessel

Wrote in my notes like my quotes lived through you, as if your their vessel

Thoughts of our fights back in forth in my mind they would wrestle

Thoughts of the times we would kiss how I️ miss every freckle

Thought of you just as my rose..till you ripped of the petals

If love is but a battlefield, where are my medals ?

Because I have fought for you just like a case in a court that was federal

Ignorance is but a bliss how I wish, I️ wasn’t your best fool...

That’s why im sorry to bug you, or just bust your bubble, your beauty it buckles and I was in trouble the moment you glanced at me ever so subtle

Knew I would fight for you till I bloodied my knuckles

You strongarmed my heart without any muscle

That’s why..

I am an insomniac

I keep losing track of what life is, lifeless..

That is always how I feel

Look for something real, but usually it is fake so I wait till they yank the reel

Stay concealed, from this point on emotions are what I can't reveal

Standing still, alone in this white abyss

Mindlessness, do not know the day or what time it is

Why is this?

Because of Vicodins, and now the cycle spins

"Addict" is what they title him

Self Entitlement!?...

More like, lack there of....

Or simply her lack of love.....

#miki5

#love

#Prose

Honestly though, what is success when achieved through fear of being labeled as a failure by society? Not what you would want it to be, right? It would be what the person who made you scared of failure would want. That’s probably why people try so hard to push their children in this or that direction without even stopping to see what the kid wants. It is a shame! Seeking your parents approval, when in all reality they didn’t even receive their parents approval. They were such a failure that they have to implement, their parents hopes for them, on you. Forgetting to care about what you actually want out of life, and resulting in your midlife crisis that develops into a depression. Followed shortly by the loss of everything you’ve achieved for a reason your not even sure was worth it. Now your parents are calling you a failure just like their parents did them. Funny how such a messed up cycle can stem from one lousy little word, failure. There should be a class in school devoted to the understanding of failure. Accepting it allows for you to self reflect, which gives you the opportunity to understand where you went wrong in the first place. Without failure nothing we have today would exist. Yet, we still label the little kid who didn’t fully understand geometry because he was dyslexic as a failure. He is then put in a box for the rest of his life, all because something that wasn’t his fault. Tommy, “Haaaa remember when jimmy failed geometry class” Billy, “Oh yeah, didn’t they hold him back?”, endlessly picked on for one reason. If only we could replace the negative stigma used to label someone as a failure. Change the entire meaning of failure that is upheld by our societal standards. Teach kids that failure isn’t some big bad monster you never want to encounter, but really the foundation on which you build the sturdiest form of understanding. Not to be ashamed of failure, but to accept it as an opportunity to simply reevaluate what you thought you knew. A spotlight used to show areas that you need to pay twice as much attention to next time. Self reflection is a key part in figuring out who you are as a person, but rendered unnecessary at a young age due to the fear of failure. We push for excellence from the very beginning, thus removing failure as an option. I would like to take a class and teach it the importance of failure, and how to use failure to better understand everything they had trouble with. Then compare grades and course completion percentage to a class where the teacher resents the idea of failure. After all that, I’d ask both classes how confident they were in the material they learned. This would make for an interesting social experiment. I theorize that the grades and completion percentages would be slightly higher for my class, but confidence in subject mastery would be notably higher. Just imagine: Tommy said, “You remember jimmy, the one that failed second grade?” Billy says, “Oh yeah, just the other day I heard that he went on to become a failure!” Tommy, “A failure, no way. Wow, that’s really good for him. I spent my whole life achieving goals solely through success. So when I finally failed….man I lost everything because I didn’t know how to reflect based upon wrong decisions. I was such a success that when I failed I was clueless to where I had gone wrong. I was blindsided by ignorance, so oblivious to the tiniest lack of understanding. Which I didn’t need to be aware of as long as I understood 89% of the material. The other 11% didn’t matter when I understood 89%, so why ever waste the time to learn it”. This is how I would like to reinvent the word failure. Have society praise the failure, for he will be the one with a better overall understanding of the material.

#DidYouEatYet