Why Love is
When love awakes
It shakes you
To your very soul
There is no escape
You cannot run
You cannot hide
It hunts you
Definitely Ain’t Try’na See This Pairing
Godzilla and Medusa, sitting in a tree,
Yeah, they hate, yeah, they destroy,
but when they're together, it's so much joy.
Dear Followers of Mine,
Hi there! It’s me, justaperson, a teenage writer that you decided to follow whenever.
Thank you for being so supportive!
I started to write more frequently once I found this website. Between the challenges and random thoughts that came to me, I slowly started to spread my wings on here.
Once again, thank you all for being so supportive! Without all of you, I don't think I would still be on Prose today.
Thank you for letting me vent when needed, and helping me see the views of others.
Thank you for being so chill about others' opinions (though I do see some lovely arguments between the best of us).
Thank you all for letting me be me, and accepting me for me, something I don't always do.
Thank you for welcoming me when I started and helping me grow.
Thank you for being such kind and caring folks, and supporting not just me, but others on this amazing website.
Thank you for learning and growing right alongside me.
Thank you for reaching out, introducing yourself to me.
Thank you for being you.
I love you all and wish you the best of luck in anything you try to accomplish!
and most importantly,
People pass through,
A human barrier keeps us apart,
It feels like we’re reading each other’s minds,
Your smile tells me
Don’t go anywhere,
It’s time for our bodies
To do the talking
Like shining gems, they captivate my gaze
One dark blue like a midnight sky on a cloudless night
The other green as the vast enchanting sea
He considers me, stripping down my defenses
Caresses me in his arms
Music plays like the opening bars of a movie
I am at his mercy, helpless in his grasp
his features shift,
No longer gentle, lustful or sweet
But cruel, cold, and sharp
Fangs protruding from crimson lips
I refuse to shy from him; yet,
Pain sears through my being,
He continues our dance,
I moan when a hand appears,
I am reeling,
Like a gentle lover he explores my newest pain
My scars an interruption in his monotony
Our dance never ends, I fail to waver
Sometimes-- I fight back--
Once- I won,
I refuse to be seduced from his arms
I’d rather face the pain of Life gone on--
Than face the kiss of death once more.
He knows my choice and he tests my limits,
Sometimes the other cuts in - his beauty an utter
Eyes pale as the moon barely a color,
He ravishes me with his deep lashed gaze, I melt in his gentle arms
Our bodies intertwine in our dance
Shines in the white light, I don’t want to refuse
Utter disregard of the danger I smile
His pale lips upturn, the flirt, he knows our game
Carefully I run my fingers over his alabaster cheek
Pale yet gloriously beautiful.
Then like a tiger, lunging towards it’s unsuspecting prey
He leans forward
Like the wild dog I evade, lashes brushing his elbow
Dip, spin, back to his arms,
Ever fire filled,
I refuse, I always escape his temptation
Yet I cannot refuse the occasional fling
With sugary Death,
I may never understand life’s pain
Yet, he helps remind me that
I must live my deadly life.
Everything New Over the Moon
I used to be very fearful... Everything had the potential to terrify me, and throw me out of kilter. I am straining my memory now but can’t quite filter out the dates or points at which my perspective shifted, because I did not start out afraid... I have been told by family and clan that I was “the most extroverted” baby they had ever seen. This lasted into toddlerhood; a bit after. Apparently the impression was cemented by an apparent lack of inhibitions in my actions. I had at the time no compunction about breaking out into song and dance in the middle of PathMark in Michael Jackson style to explain some moves to any deprived folks who claimed they “didn’t know how...”
Was it the moonwalk? really, I don’t remember at the moment, but the idea makes me laugh; though others remain sad in recollecting this, apparently missing some unharnessed happiness they thought they witnessed. Where did it go? someone inevitably asks... and I suppose I can psycho analyze... and see how incrementally I became terrified... of living.
In a strange twist, my fear manifested within a few years in the diametrically opposite direction of my early showboating. It was about the age of 6-7 (significant, but let’s not jump to conclusions). I’m convinced school had only slight influence. Without getting into details, the problems were much closer to home. Whatever the cause, the fear that developed was one of “being alone,” a particular variety which at the time I could not adequately articulate. By middle school I had enough self-awareness to begin to characterize the problem, and from this distance I can clearly summarize that I was not afraid of being “by myself” ...as anyone having experienced similar anxiety can attest. I was afraid of being alone—like in a crowded theater. I mean this of course metaphorically. The fear itself was, as it always is, of the Unknown; in this instance it just happened to take the form of the impersonal “Stranger.” Single or plural.... It could be easily diverted to anything... the dark, heights, spiders...
I have come to understand, in observing worse struggles in others, that the object doesn’t much matter in questions of trust... and fear and distrust do go hand in hand. What is it that makes the heart and mind race, and go on to chase memories in redundant carnival loops; or to take preemptive leaps toward tomorrow with a readied dagger? At some point it became painfully clear: I did not trust Myself!!!! And so I feared every situation... because.... How would I respond? ...Would it be alright? ...Would I say or do something wrong? ...Would I offend someone?
This very real phantom has a way of completely immobilizing the spirit and twisting the outlook into something presumed to be shy. When I became aware of this serious self-incriminating charge, sometime late in college, I was finally (after a while longer) released from my own prison of Mistrust. I gradually stopped allowing outside circumstances to rule over my attention; I stopped scripting a multiplication table of what if’s? I will confide that when I lost my anxiety I actually cried... yes there was a precise moment of recognition of loss... in a way in letting go of the pain and discomfort, I was regretting a lessening of “sensitivity,” which wasn’t exactly accurate... letting go of the fretting over the unknown past and future actually allowed me to finally be in tune with individuals and surroundings in the present at any given second. At this point, I suppose I knew my reactions better, but also I had determined above all to be able to Trust myself... finally, fundamentally, by necessity... because at every moment, we really are (after all) alone with just our fragmented self on a very crowded Earth... and it is a truism, that you cannot trust others if you do not trust yourself.
Life After Death
than sun’s betrayal,
I still feel
his whispers inside.
I am a woman
with no face,
where I once bloomed
in the garden
where he now lies.
Waking up desolate
where I once roamed,
stumbling across fields
of spellbinding bleakness,
seeing darkened eyes
of indefinite color.
I finally realize
that he flies free
sheltered and cushioned
from life’s travails.
At last, I can blossom
ready to soar
I know he is
waiting for me,
pooled in jewels
of liquid chemistry,
wandering in tranquility
through uncharted paths
in unknown world,
the sleepless moon -
down the road,
life before death
as I sip his aura
of life after death.
Umbrella of Darkness
Moon shields face
in ragged shrouds
by darkest clouds
diamonds lose luster
sheltering my soul
umbrella of darkness
famine of the unknown
clamp of life’s torments
cacophony of moonbeams
dissonance of unseen love
spinning of onyx night
moon skin-deep in sorrow
entwined with filtered fog
midnight blue thoughts
moody night churns
moon gnashes teeth.
Do you ever just
Not feel good enough