Suddenly I came to see

what a treasure really is.

It twinkles brightly

shows its brillance

as a gift for others to indulge.

All my life

this time with you,

I never really knew that hidden works of art are wasted

only on a few.

You’ve kept me hidden

Locked away

away from the sight of others.

You treasured me in secrecy

because you never thought I’d ever discover:

This me of mine is someone

special

A treasured vessel-a masterpiece.

I’m valuable to me, you see

Since now I see the artistry

Of who I am-who I’ve come to

be.

I was lost, hidden away

In a land unoccupied.

And now I’m free because I see

The value that’s inside of me.

Explain yourself.

Tell me your story.

What’s the excuse for all your abuse?

Explain why.

Tell me the reasons you feel you must deny me your honesty.

What’s the excuse for all of your lies?

Explanations in vain; for,

I’ll not listen to your irrational fabrications any longer.

I want to simply forget every vestige of you-

To cease to think of you.

I want every thought of you to disintegrate into nothingness-

Into a pile of manure

And for you to forever go away from me,

So that I can be free.

I've always wanted to say

That you were the best mother

That I always felt your love for me

And I needed to repay it.

I've always wanted you to know

That I will never forget the love you’ve shown

And though it's kinda tough to say

I'll always remember you-

That’s what I wished I could say.

But really you were never there

You never truly cared for me

And did you ever really love me-

the way a mother does?

So although I'd like to say those things

I really never will; for,

I only ever remember from you Mother, the pain and hurt you've caused.

I pass onto you

A history.

It's  origin  is not familial;

For, my mother only passed down myths, you see and goblins that only terrified me.

A heritage built on grotesque  creatures mystified me and incinerated my soul

This heritage of mine was what I  had to pass along-

I pass onto you a heritage.

Of picturesque carvings of eternity

Of copacetic surroundings that mark every turn, twist and curve.

Flowing pathways  that perpetuate felicity in the truest sense.

I pass  onto  you  a heritage

That permeates every step taken

With whimsy and fanciful thoughts

Of what tomorrow  will bring,

Of endeavors sure to be pursued,

Of dreams to be followed and treks to be explored...

This I  pass unto you

A legacy that began with our traditions

The interwoven threads connecting  us together for all eternity,

This is our heritage!

Flashbacks can be a great story element. My Hallmark starts when the protagonist is reflecting on her childhood. She was so happy. Her favorite moment was of her and her Dad watching cheesy movies twice a week together, popcorn in hand.

Although her mom died, the focus is not on loss; but, the strength of the father-daughter relationship.

She grows up with a love of writing, which turns into a career of screen-writing that takes her to the city.

Life, business seemed to be a barrier of love and relationships. So, she decides to move home, in December during the town’s worse snowstorm, to make her dream come true-write a screenplay of her life. To do this, she combs through old movies of her mom, dad and small town and puts it on the big screen!…There is a love triangle-Hallmark style.

Oftentimes, I sit and reflect,

letting thoughts and even images run through my mind.

But recently I’ve had to

run away, hide away,

From those things taken over my thoughts.

Ghastly sounds when I seem to be alone

makes me twitch and turn my

head-left and right.

And then there goes the maniacal

laughter.

But no one’s here…

Is there?

Still, I hear those terrible sounds.

They make me mad.

I lose my sleep.

I try to run, hide away from my

mind.

But these dreadful sounds and

horrific sights

cause me to fear for my very life.

And then my greatest fear,

my worst nightmare-

I see you there

hidden away

lurking in the bleak of darkness.

The phantom whisper’s belong to

you.

Cloaked in shadows you try to hide.

Yet, I now recognize the hidden

form

It was you all along!

You’ve taken me down

down to the abyss;

for, your sounds and mind-

sapping imagery did drive me

mad.

I tried to hide, to run away.

But your gaslighting has dismantled

me….

And I fear I’ll never return

to my normalcy.

I’m going to tell you what others won’t:

It’s tough to discover that you’ll never recover from the loss of a lover.

You’ll try to bend so that you can mend

the many pieces of your broken

heart.

Yet, as you do

You’ll come to see

those pieces simply don’t fit back

together so effortlessly.

So, then you begin a new pursuit to reboot yourself,

so that you can love another.

You put forth the effort,

but despite all attempts

the kisses you gave

the love that was made

never meant the same.

All you will do is simply compare

the love that you lost

to what you once had-your

greatest love of all.

And finally you will come to terms

that such a true love comes

around only once.

And then you will realize:

you’ll never, no never

ever recover from a love that was

lost.

A fantasy does fade away

Into the world of neverland

A dream's a hope of something  true

An endeavor that one seeks to attain to

Yet it's never really manifested among the normal ones-like you and I

We dream the dreams of fantasy

And see the clouds of destiny

Then as we reach, grab to touch

It vanishes even from memory

A dream to me is bleakness

A mirage that pushes me into the mire

The depths of which  I can't  climb from

Because the simple reality is the hopelessness to dream

It's  like a facade of intrigue and bounty

A path belighted with charms and fancy

Then as I  step onto the path

I try to determine which way to go

Then I realize that whichever way I choose

Is only an illusion

To fantasize is a non reality

A mythological life

But what I want is none of these

What I want, what I dream

The things for which I’ve hoped

-a knight in shining armor

-a real life Prince Charming

-the love of my life:

Real

True

You

A dream come true

As fondest memories go, they exist few and far in between for me. But there have always been objects and sounds that prompt me to reflect back on another time. There was not an overly happy family life, but all it’s members were in tact. There were parents and children and the extended aunts and cousins that accompany that.

I was always beyond timid. There were moments when strangers might not have even known that I had the ability to speak. But I never felt that was my gift, nor did it feel like there was ever any real interest in me. And so my words were few and my interactions with others-even less.

Then, as I walked a long, arduous trek to the grandmother’s, I flashbacked to another trek, another house the grandmother resided at. There was a dark living room with classic furniture that seemed to exude some type of luxury. It was not the rich luxury one would imagine. Rather, it was a luxury of hidden money, unearthed riches. The dining room was fit for a king who would enjoy cigars. The dark leather made me think that somewhere was a bell that one would ring for a servant. But the upstairs took on a different note. There were rooms with furniture that told no real story. It’s history seemed to disappear as one climbed the steps.

But one light colored, wooden trunk brought to birth the smell of something I cannot recall. From inside I would sit, expecting to hide away from the habitants of grandmother’s house. The trunk clothed me with secret safety although there were holes made out of wicker that I could see through. Whenever one particular person roamed the upstairs hallway, I would make sure and hold my breath and pretend to be invisible.

Grandmother’s house and that trunk has resurfaced over the years in my mind. And while I tend not to spend very long reflecting on its contents and events, I hold onto what I learned. You can never be fully protected if there are holes surrounding a surface. So, I started to value the importance of honesty. I remember that grandmother’s house was full of lies and to keep a lie, you have to continue tearing away from your soul. Lies are like little holes that encircled that wooden trunk and created a secret world that eventually tore a part every vestige of sturdiness that otherwise would have been held together through its strength. And so as the years have passed by for me, I've vowed this one thing only-that I will be me, regardl of the price and honesty will be the trait that I pass onto my children.

As I glare into your eyes

I see the beauteous depth of my distaste for you, my love.

I stare at your smile

And I fall back in love.

Then, I attempt to kiss your loathsome lips

But I find they disgust me so.

They’re simply the method you use to tell me more lies.

I see your mannerisms, those things you do

And I remark at the many ways you cause me to fall deeper in love.

At the same time, I foam

At the mouth,

Become enraged

From all the things you seem to do.

I’ve just decided

Made the conclusion

That this romance we’ve had

Has always been just an illusion.